hits. It’s real.” He topped off her wine, then his own. “Right now, here with you, I can look back to beginnings, to plans, to how can we do this, and real’s good. Tell me you’ll stay tonight?”
She smiled at him. “I thought you’d never ask.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
HE WOULD HAVE LINGERED OVER PIE, BUT SHE INSISTED on clearing up the dishes. Since he figured she was running the show, he didn’t try to persuade her into stacking them up for later. In any case, he enjoyed having her fuss around his kitchen with him with the music going, the conversation easy.
“This was a hell of a surprise, Clare.”
“It may not reach the level of two puppies, but it’s not bad. And for me, it’s nice to have an evening where the focus of every minute isn’t on costumes and candy. Plus, I know that as soon as that’s done, it’ll be all Santa all the time until Christmas.”
“They’re still believers?”
“I think Harry’s copped to it, but he pretends otherwise. They’ve already started lists, which includes every toy they see advertised on TV.”
“I remember doing the same thing. Those were the days.”
“Liam wants a Barbie.”
She sent him a sparkling smile as she said it. After a beat of surprise, Beckett beamed right back at her. “To use as a hostage, victim, or innocent bystander.”
Clare fisted the hand holding a dishcloth on her hip. “That’s exactly right, except he hasn’t come up with innocent bystander yet. Men really are just boys in bigger packages.”
“You ought to get that car she’s got, too. Then she can be driving along, and get carjacked. That’d be cool.”
“It used to be Winnie the Pooh and jack-in-the-boxes.”
“Times change.”
“Boy, they do. And just think, next year you’ll be decorating the inn.”
“I guess we’ll have to go all-out.”
“Absolutely. You’ll have to seriously deck the halls. You should do a holiday tour.”
“Hmm. Maybe.”
“Really, Beckett. People are invested, and they really want to see what you’ve done in there. You should do a tour after it’s all done. Hope would know just how it should be done. Avery and I could help. Think community relations, publicity, and pride.”
“I’ll talk it over with the family.” And could already see his mother jumping all over the idea.
“Meanwhile, I’m thinking of opening the bookstore on Sundays once you’re up and running. Maybe the inn will send some business my way.”
She paused, glanced around. “Why don’t you pour the rest of the wine? I’m going to go freshen up.”
Good thing he picked up his dirty clothes and wet towels, he thought.
He poured the wine, took his to the front windows. She was probably right about the tour, the decorations, even her Sunday hours. More work for everybody, but they’d make it worthwhile. He looked at the way the building shone now, imagined it decked out for the holidays.
Definitely worthwhile.
Hardly more than a year before the building had stood sagging in the dark, and now it gleamed. Hardly more than a year from now, he thought, they’d have it sparkling with lights and wreaths and garland.
Amazing, really, what could happen in a year.
Clare was here, with him. And he could clearly see her with him next year. In fact, he realized, he couldn’t see it otherwise.
“Beckett? Could you come in here a minute?”
Hell, had he left stuff tossed around in there? If so, he’d just have to distract her, so he grabbed her wine on the way.
“I haven’t had a lot of time to—” He stopped speaking the minute he stepped to the bedroom door, mostly because he’d swallowed his tongue.
Clare in candlelight.
She’d scattered them around the room to create a soft and indulgent romantic glow—and added more flowers to perfume the air. She’d turned down his bed, mounded the pillows in invitation.
And she, he thought, the centerpiece. Her hair fell long and loose around bare shoulders, glinting in the soft edges of the candle glow. Her body—smooth skin, subtle curves—seemed draped in midnight that frothed at the curve of her breasts and high on her thighs.
He wasn’t sure what women called what she wore—corset seemed much too ordinary and dated. He’d have dubbed it instant seduction.
“I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“You leave me breathless.”
“I hoped I would. I hope you’ll come here. Come over here, Beckett, and leave me breathless.”
He set the glasses aside, crossed to her. He trailed his fingertips over her shoulders, down her arms, up again. “You know I’m going to have to get the boys a whole kennel of puppies now.”