Christmas Wishes Part 3 - Diana Palmer Mills & Boon e-Book Collections

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waves a hand at me. “No, Lil, I mean look at you.” His face softens. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so…radiant. Damon is a great guy. He’s smitten with you. It’s as obvious as the big nose on my face.” He laughs. “What I’m trying to say is, your mamma and I are so proud of you, from the way you run the café, to the way you cherish your friends, and because you’re marrying a man who is truly worthy of you. And I can’t wait to walk you down that aisle, knowing that the man standing at the other end is a good one.”

      I rub the top of his hand. Dad doesn’t often speak like this; usually he’s more of a prankster, a joker. And I guess like most people he had his doubts about my ex-husband Joel. He never said anything directly, but he’d asked me the night before my first wedding if I was really sure I was making the right decision. And I was sure; it wasn’t until much later that the marriage fell apart, and Joel changed into a different man from the one I married. But that part of my life taught me some valuable lessons about myself, and I wouldn’t change it.

      “That means a lot, Dad.” I give his hand a squeeze.

      “It’s all true,” he says. “Being away for so long, you know, we worried about you. When we heard that Joel had slunk back into town, we almost flew back. But CeeCee called and said she’d sorted it. It’s a funny thing, parenthood — you’ll always be my little girl no matter how old you are.”

      I stand and walk around to give him a hug. “I’m glad you didn’t cancel your trip for that. I’m lucky to have a friend like CeeCee.”

      “That you are, darlin’. So…” he winks “…what’s the chance of a slice of one of CeeCee’s pies?”

      “You’re going to get me in trouble…” I amble over to CeeCee, who’s packing a box of baked goods for the newcomer. I nod hello and he gives me a tentative smile. CeeCee pipes up, “This is Clay. He’s gone and moved to the Maple Syrup Farm. Gonna do it up real nice, like it used to be.”

      “Nice to meet you, Clay. You’ll be busy by the sounds of it.” I picture the derelict farm. It needs a complete overhaul, that place.

      Clay nods, and gives me a ghost of a smile.

      “Dad wants a piece of pie, Cee. So just holler if you need a hand.”

      She shoos me away. “Your daddy dumber ’n a bucket of coal if he thinks your mamma won’t find out. Ain’t no way I’m serving him pie, neither!”

      I massage her shoulders and laugh. “How will she find out?”

      “She’s a woman from a small town, cherry blossom. O’ course she’ll find out.”

      We’re tidying the café after another long day. CeeCee’s whizzing around as if she’s on a sugar high; even though she’s got twenty plus years on my almost-thirty she’s as spritely as a teenager. I’m mopping the floors as she restacks the books on the shelves and tidies the tables near the fireplace. She’s humming, and bopping along as she works.

      We’ve been so busy in the lead-up to Christmas I’m as worn out as a rag doll but CeeCee’s like a never-ending ball of energy. I clean slowly, and decide I’ll reward myself with a nice long soak in the tub when I get home. And if Damon happens to wander in while I’m in there, all the better.

      Blowing my hair from my face, I rest awhile using the mop as a prop to hold me. The street is almost deserted as shops close for the evening. It’s almost seven, and snowing hard outside, when I see a couple of finely dressed people walk into Damon’s small goods shop. There’s something about them that catches my eye. They’re not from around here by the looks of it: the woman is wearing a fancy fur coat, with a matching beret, and the gentleman is wearing a suit and scarf.

      CeeCee goes out front to bring in our chalkboard. She races back inside, and dumps the A-frame against the wall. “It’s cold enough out there to freeze the balls off a pool table!” She rubs her hands together to warm them. “Who’s that over yonder?”

      “I don’t know.” I dunk the mop, and swish it around the bucket when CeeCee says, “Well, we about to find out. Here they come now.”

      Damon holds onto the woman’s elbow and escorts them over the icy street.

      They stand just outside the café and shake the snow from their shoulders. Damon pushes against the door and motions for the couple to step in before him. Up close, I see the resemblance, and my chest tightens. Oh, golly, I wish I’d had some warning. They weren’t supposed to arrive for another week! I run a hand through my hair, which is an unkempt mess, no doubt, after such a busy day. My apron is stained and I’m wearing the oldest pair of boots I own, which squeak as I walk. The woman is draped in pearls, and the silver bobbed hair under her beret is immaculate. The man is ruggedly good-looking, like an older Damon, with the same kind eyes.

      “Lil, Cee,” Damon says, shivering from the short walk across the road. “This is my mother, Olivia, and my father, George.”

      I’m too stunned to speak, ruing the fact their first impression of me is the way I look right now. I’m not a fancy dresser, nor do I care about hair and make-up, but these people are Guthries and no matter how much I pretend I don’t care, I do. The Guthrie family has enough money to buy out a small country, and I just wish the first time I met them I were wearing something other than my bright scarlet Christmas sweater that reads: Jingle all the way! Not to mention my candy-cane earrings that flash intermittently. They must think Damon’s gone mad to marry a girl who is so utterly disheveled.

      CeeCee shoots me a look that says pull it together. With a surreptitious nod in return, I smile brightly and walk towards them to give them a welcome hug. Olivia immediately puts out a hand to shake. Fumbling, and unsure, I drop my outstretched arms, and hope my faux pas isn’t noticeable.

      Though CeeCee hasn’t missed a trick and barrels past me, screeching, “That ain’t how we say hello ’round here. Come on and give us a great big cuddle!” She launch hugs Olivia and nearly knocks her off her knee-high boots. I hide a smile, thanking the Lord again for CeeCee’s ability to break the ice. God, I love this woman.

      Olivia teeters for a moment and then says, “Thank you, CeeCee.” She regains her composure, and stands tall. “Well, it’s certainly nice to meet you, Lil. We’ve heard so much about you.”

      “You too, Olivia.” I find my voice. “This is a wonderful surprise!”

      Damon rubs his mother’s shoulders. “Come on, Mother, let’s sit down. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” He pushes his parents softly in the back and motions to the sofas before taking my hand and kissing me softly on the cheek. He whispers, “They were so excited they couldn’t wait another day. They cut their holiday short.”

      They’d been holidaying somewhere sunny, so I’m chuffed they cut it short — their son’s wedding should take precedence in my book, and they obviously agree.

      George and Olivia hover near the fire and CeeCee says, “Go on and sit down, you makin’ the place look crowded,” and laughs her southern haw. “I’ll fix us some drinks, while y’all get to talkin’.”

      Buoyed by CeeCee’s confidence, and Olivia’s radiant smile, I sink into the sofa. I pat the cushion, and Damon sits next to me, leaning close enough I can smell his aftershave, sweet and spicy, making me woozy with thoughts of him.

      CeeCee bustles around the kitchen, humming Jingle Bells. Damon shoots me a smile. “I’ll give CeeCee a hand with the drinks.” He jumps up, leaving a Damon-sized dent in the sofa, which I quickly roll into. George and Olivia gaze around the café, taking in the bookshelves by the fire, and the display fridge filled with chocolate truffles neatly ordered in rows.

      “Beautiful place you have here, Lil,” George says, his voice so similar to Damon’s. “Damon told us how hard you’ve worked to build the café up over the

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