Charming the Prince, page 3
Krissy rolled her eyes this time. “It’s fine, Sylvia. She’s seen people kiss before. I just prefer she not witness the tongue-down-the-throat kind.”
“Oh goodness. We didn’t do that!”
“Nearly.”
Sylvia studied Krissy, her eyes round with question. “Just curious, Krissy. Has she ever seen a man kiss you?”
Krissy gave her the evil-eye. “Now that’s a zinger from left field, and one I don’t want to respond to. Besides, that’s none of your business.” Krissy broke eye contact with Sylvia and for whatever reason, her gaze landed on the mystery man next to Merry’s booth, who—also for some crazy reason—had simultaneously glanced up to meet her gaze. Head on. He was at the far end of the diner, but his dark-eyed stare sort of pierced her heart. A little.
Okay, kind of deep. What the…?
She huffed out a breath and turned away. Who was this man, anyway? And why had her daughter befriended him so quickly?
The truth was that Merry hadn’t seen her mother kissed by a man. Krissy didn’t date. Hadn’t dated for Merry’s entire life. So, a man in their lives would be a terribly foreign thing for them both.
Getting pregnant early in a relationship she thought had potential turned out to be the epitome of her many prior relationship mistakes.
Except she got Merry out of the deal. It was the one thing she could thank Merry’s dad for. Her potential relationship partner wanted nothing to do with “the kid” and she’d not seen or heard from him in nearly nine years. Which is why Merry probably gravitated toward making friendships with men who could be around her father’s age—like the man with the dog. They’d become quite friendly this week.
Did Merry need a father figure?
Not going there now. Her thoughts were spinning out of control, and she needed to focus back on the tasks at hand.
“Krissy, we need to get started for the airport. We have to take both rental cars back so are allowing extra time. Just remember what I said earlier. Okay?”
“What?”
“You’re going to hire help, right?”
Krissy nodded. “I’m going to try. Like I said, the job pool is limited. Plus, all the local summer help already have jobs.”
“What about that guy? He looks like he might need a job.” Sylvia’s gaze shot to the mystery man.
Krissy ogled him, thankful his attention had returned to his lunch. “Really? I don’t know.”
Sylvia shrugged. “He seems nice enough. I spoke with him briefly yesterday.”
“Hm. Yes, he’s been in here almost every day this week. Not sure where he came from. I think he’s just passing through. Probably came for the festival.”
“Merry seems to enjoy his company.”
Krissy frowned, watching her daughter, who was yakking up a storm with the guy.
Yes, she did. He’d stop in for coffee and a bagel during his morning walks with his dog. This was the third or fourth time he’d sat next to Merry at her booth. While it didn’t make Krissy uncomfortable, because she kept close tabs on her daughter while she worked, she figured she should go over and introduce herself.
To him and his big dog.
A dog that Merry had apparently fallen in love with, and he with her. The big lug had edged his way into Merry’s booth, sitting beside her. Merry giggled while she petted the animal.
Krissy wasn’t sure what kind of dog he was—all she knew was that he was black and brown with a bit of white on his face and… Well, he was huge! She also assumed he was a he. She hadn’t really inspected, but he looked like a he to her.
Kringle’s was a casual place and she’d hesitated the first time the guy entered with the dog—but the mammoth canine had turned out to be mannerly, if not charming, so she’d not made a deal of it. Many of the customers seemed to like him, too.
“Earth to Krissy. You still with us?”
Krissy blinked herself out of her momentary trance. “What? Oh, yes. Sorry, Sylvia.”
“Distracted?”
“A little, I suppose.” She still eyed the scenario in the booth.
“Doesn’t he usually come in for breakfast, not lunch?”
Krissy turned to her friend. “Yes. But I suppose people change their habits.”
“Do you think he’s homeless?”
“Why would you say that?” Krissy whipped around to look at Sylvia.
“Well, he always walks here from out of town every day. He carries that big backpack everywhere he goes. His hair is a little long and shaggy. And I think he could use a shower.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s homeless. Maybe he’s camping.”
“Hm. Possibly.”
Chase interrupted. “Sylvia, honey, we need to get going.” He tapped his wristwatch.
“Sure. Of course.” But she ignored Chase for a moment and squared herself in front of Krissy, looking her straight in the eyes. “Maybe he could use a job? Hire him.”
“What?”
“Hire him.”
“But maybe he doesn’t want a job!”
“Go ask.”
“But—”
Chase interrupted. “Sylvia, let Krissy decide. We should get on the road.”
Sylvia exhaled and tossed him a look, then back to Krissy. “Just check it out.
“Go, Sylvia. I’ll see you soon.” Krissy ignored her friend and embraced her quickly.
“Talk to him,” Sylvia whispered.
Krissy put her friend at arm’s length. “Have a safe flight, you two.” Her gaze bounced from Chase to Sylvia. “Text me when you are home. Okay?”
Chase nodded and took the bait. Sylvia could be persistent, and Krissy was ready to drop the subject.
But Sylvia wasn’t. As Chase led her out of the diner, her friend looked back and mouthed the words, “Hire him,” to Krissy, and then ticked her head toward the mystery man. Glancing to Merry, she added, “Bye, Merry Munchkin. See you at Christmas!”
The bell over the door tinkled as the lovebirds left. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the diner felt a little less charged. Sylvia could be a force to be reckoned with, at times. And when she got on a roll, it was difficult to change her course.
But she was off for L.A. now, and Krissy could heed her advice, consider it, and then do whatever was right for her and Merry.
Drifting to the salt and pepper shakers, she picked up a salt box and continued the job that Sylvia had started. After a moment, her gaze lifted slightly to glimpse toward her daughter, the dog, and the guy at the opposite end of the diner.
She supposed he could be an okay worker.
She really had no apprehensions about the man spending time chatting with her daughter. Did she? Dickens was a safe place, after all. Of course, this was festival week and all kinds of people visited—but why would someone shady choose a holiday town and a Christmas in July festival to cause mischief and mayhem?
OMG, he could be a child snatcher.
Or worse!
Why was he paying so much attention to Merry?
Why haven’t I questioned this before now?
Get ahold of yourself, Krissy. You’re borrowing trouble. He’s harmless.
That’s what they all say. Right?
Krissy set down the salt containers and wiped her hands on her apron. It was time to introduce herself to the mystery man and find out exactly what was going on. Determined, she headed toward Merry’s booth.
The guy’s head lifted as she started his way. Their gazes connected as she resolutely strode across the restaurant. A few more paces and she halted directly between his table and her daughter’s booth.
“Hi Mommy,” Merry singsonged. “Look who is sitting in my booth!” The girl giggled and stroked the dog’s head. The big dog looked at Merry with round, adoring eyes, his tongue falling out of his mouth and drool stringing.
Ew.
“I see that.” Krissy didn’t exactly look at Merry for long, skipping her gaze over daughter and the dog, while attempting to hold the man’s gaze, too. “He should probably not be there, though. Sorry about that. Dog germs.”
“Ah, Mommy.”
The man cocked his head to the side and studied her, one corner of his mouth turned up. His dark brown hair was shaggy, just as Sylvia had pointed out, and he sported a rather interesting—and should dare she even think it—sexy five o’clock yesterday scruff that elevated her interest level. Slightly. His dark eyes, which she had noticed earlier, still pierced just as deep.
Stop it, Krissy. Quit noticing the sexy little details. He could be a child stalker, right?
But for some crazy reason, she didn’t think he was any danger at all to her child. She couldn’t imagine him doing harm to anyone. He just didn’t look the type. Besides, he was a dog dad, so….
So, she squared her shoulders, blinked, and pushed out her hand. “Excuse me. Where are my manners? I’m sorry not to have introduced myself before now. The place has been super busy all week and since this is Gladys’s section… Anyway, I’m Merry’s mother, and the owner of this little establishment. I hope you enjoyed your lunch today, and your breakfasts in previous days, and well…Well, and I also hope my daughter has not been an annoying chatty Cathy while you’ve been here. Some people like to have their morning coffee in peace.” She paused, briefly, and took a breath. “I think it’s best, though, if you don’t bring your dog back into the diner. I’m sure you understand. Health codes and all.”
The man didn’t say anything for a moment, just gazed back into her eyes, looking at her rather oddly. One corner of his mouth turned up into a smirky-but-sensual half-smile. Krissy’s hand stayed dangling in the air between them.
Then, at once, he rose. Slowly. Not breaking eye contact, he grasped her hand—no, she didn’t feel any of the electric currents sparking from his fingers to hers, did she?—bent slightly at the waist, turning her hand over, and then….
Then….
He brushed the back of her hand with a soft butterfly kiss. Just one kiss. Featherlight. His breath fanned warmth over her knuckles, which actually made her knees buckle. A little.
Krissy’s heart melted like a chocolate Santa left on the car dashboard. She couldn’t breathe. Her pulse raced.
Mystery Man stood there, their gazes mingled and danced, while an uneasy sense of familiarity passed over Krissy. Who is this man? Do I know him? She glanced away.
“Yes, you have been very busy this week.”
She looked back then, and their gazes reconnected. “Yes,” was the only word she could squeak out.
“It is genuinely nice to meet you, Merry’s mother. I have enjoyed getting to know your daughter this week. And of course, I’ll honor your wishes concerning my faithful companion.” The words that came from his mouth resonated deep within her for some crazy reason, and were sprinkled with some sort of European accent. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Scandinavian? German? She couldn’t be sure.
Simply put, the sound of his voice turned her insides to quivering jelly, and while strangely familiar, reminded her of someone…. But who?
He dropped her hand. “Come on, Prince. Let’s get on our way.” He motioned to the dog, who jumped from the booth and joined his master at his side. With a bow toward Merry and a nod to Krissy, he picked up his over-large backpack and ambled toward the door.
She watched every step he took.
“Mommy…” Merry said softly. “I like him. He’s my friend.”
Krissy watched as he approached the exit. “The dog or the man, sweetheart?”
“Both.”
Turning, Krissy caught the pouty look on Merry’s face, and something clutched in her chest. The child had so little fun in her life right now, having to come to work with her every day, and never complaining. Krissy’s heart ached at the unhappy expression on her face. Merry was a particularly good judge of character—dogs and humans. Am I overplaying this entire situation? She seemed to enjoy both the big dog and chatting with the dog’s owner. How could she take that one simple pleasure away?
Besides, perhaps her child snatcher theory was a little over the top.
“But we don’t really know him, honey. Do we?”
“I know him,” Merry countered, her stare intense. “I know a lot about them both. And I like them. Now I’m sad.”
Well, crap.
Without thought, Krissy jerked back to look at the man—whose hand had just landed on the doorknob, dog at his side—and took a quick step forward.
“Wait.” Suddenly, she needed to gulp in a couple breaths and then force them out of her lungs. “Wait! Stop, please. I may have made a mistake.”
He turned and met her gaze. “Excuse me?”
“We, uh… Merry would like you to stay.”
“Merry, huh?”
Krissy nodded. “Yes. And, by the way, I need you.” Crap!
“What?”
“Need the help! To work for me,” she said hurriedly. Good gracious what an idiot I am! “I’d like to hire you.”
“But I’m not looking for work.” To say his face was a puzzle was an understatement and she couldn’t blame him.
“The dog can stay, too, of course, if you’re going to work here.”
He shook his head a little, eyes narrowed. “I’m confused.”
“Yeah, I get it. Me too. But anyway, we thought you might be looking for work.”
“I, uh… Well, to be honest….”
“I have work, and you might as well work here. Two birds, one stone. You need a job and I, obviously, need help. You’ve seen how busy we are around here.”
“Indeed.” He nodded, then winked at Merry. “I see.”
“So, you’re hired. Minimum wage. You can start in the morning.”
At that, Mystery Man’s right eyebrow cocked, both his eyes twinkled, and he bellowed out a laugh loud enough to rival the bell in the tower of the Dickens United Methodist Church.
CHAPTER 3
Alex hadn’t expected to find her in Dickens. It seemed a long shot. But after he’d done a little sleuthing up north in the lake house area of Butternut Falls—asking around about the family who used to stay summers in the house with the wide sweeping porch, three houses down from the one his grandparents owned twenty years earlier—he thought he might have a lead.
“Well, let’s see,” an old timer had shared, rubbing his palm over the scruff of his short white beard. He sat fishing off a short boat dock not far from the old house. “I’ve lived here since I was a boy, and I should remember. But—”
But his memory was failing him, Alex learned, like some of the others.
“There have been so many,” the old man’s thoughts wandered on. “It could have been the Carpenters from Green Bay. They had a girl. She could have been older than the one you’re looking for. They stayed summers for years. I remember him because he had a slick, candy-apple red GTO he’d bring up for the summer car shows. Not sure if they stayed at Foggy Mornings, though, the house you speak of, or maybe they stayed at Catfish Bend, down the shore a bit. I can’t be certain.”
He paused for a moment while Alex processed what he’d said.
“Sure was a slick car, though.” He reeled in his line, signaling the end of their conversation.
Betty, who ran the bait shop—another longtime resident—was certain a family from Appleton stayed in that vacation home years back. They had a girl, too, she told him, who would have been ten or twelve around then. They came every year for about five years until they didn’t. “Their name was Scandinavian, I think. Started with a K… Klausen? Kristensen? I sure wish Ellen were still alive. She owned the Foggy Mornings house all her adult life. I bet she had records.”
That piqued Alex’s interest. “Does Ellen still have family in the area?”
“Oh no.” The woman waved her hand. “They’ve all moved off. But you might check with the new owners. They’ve lived there ever since Ellen died. Maybe there is something there.”
Alex thanked her for her time, but the current owners had no idea about past tenants of the house. It was the first place he’d tried to find out about the girl who lived there that last summer he’d had with Pops and Nana. Alex left his cell phone number, anyway, just in case something came up.
And it did, two weeks later. The owners of Foggy Mornings found a guest registry in the attic. He made another trip up north, narrowed down the years to a short list of guests, and went about playing detective again.
His research led him on a trail from Appleton to Eau Claire to Green Bay and then to Dickens, of all places. He was curious what would make her move from Wisconsin to New England. If he were looking for a hike—well, there he had it. And even though the evidence seemed solid, he hadn’t been completely convinced he would find her.
All the research in the world could not compare with his gut, however—and that internal instinct sent strong signals the moment he’d stepped inside Kringle’s Diner a few days ago.
He might not have recognized her if it hadn’t been for Merry. The moment he set eyes on the little girl, his brain tumbled back twenty years.
* * *
“Race you out to the dock, Alex,” she had chided.
“You can’t swim faster than me.”
“Wanna bet?”
The girl took off running toward the shoreline, her long jet-black ponytail swishing behind her back. She jogged out a few feet into the shallow water, then dove in headfirst. Stunned for a moment, Alex just watched her. When she came up churning water, swimming fast for the dock anchored out in the middle of the lake, he shook his head.
“Better not let a girl beat you,” Anja teased.
Alex quickly glanced at his sister, then took off toward the water. He swam as hard and as fast as his out-of-shape body would let him. When he reached the dock, out of breath, he grasped the wooden ladder and clung to it, only to see her staring down at him, smiling.
He’d never seen eyes so blue, twinkling in the sunlight.
“Beat you,” she taunted.
* * *
Smiling at the memory, reliving how he’d felt spending that entire summer with the blue-eyed, black-haired girl known only as K.C., Alex was hopeful he was on the right track.
