A Christmas Kiss Read online

  Being successful had a way of drawing people in from every direction. Being extremely successful, selling a multimillion-dollar, number-one-rated African American tech company to a huge corporation, and getting an insane cash payout with mind-boggling stock options, had a way of making them want to ride your coattails to the next moneymaking venture no matter what or where.

  His cell rang. He checked the car’s caller ID connection. Seeing it was one of his assistants, he answered. “Yeah?”

  “Dean, it’s Kellie. I emailed you a copy of the processing forms you wanted and included the notes from the good-faith employee allocation contracts you reviewed last week. Do you still have the blueprints and architect renderings with you?”

  He glanced at the black plastic architect’s tube on the seat beside him. “Actually I have the Texas ones, but they’ll do for now.”

  “Do you want me to send you the recent ones?”

  “No, I’ll use these for now. The structure won’t change.”

  “Okay. I’ll forward the changes they made and the site plan notes from the Realtor. Is there anything else you needed this evening?”

  “No, I’ll go over everything this evening and check in with you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, have a good night,” Kellie said.

  “Thanks, you too.”

  He smiled to himself as he ended the phone call and then exited the highway. His next big adventure had nothing to do with the computer world. It was personal, and getting yet another request from his hometown to participate in the annual holiday parade fit into his plans perfectly.

  Fifteen minutes later, he passed the sign welcoming him to the small town of Hayden, Georgia. Not surprisingly, it was the same sign he remembered seeing when he first came here fifteen years ago. Just thirty-five miles south of Savannah, Hayden was perched right on the water with stunning views from every direction. It was an idyllic location with small-town appeal, perfect weather, and down-home Southern charm unequal to most small towns in the area.

  It had a rich and varied history that had been established just after the Revolutionary War. Then it had slipped into poverty during the next war. From then on, it experienced decades of prosperity, hardship, affluence, poverty—continuously finding itself in constant vacillating flux.

  Years ago, it had been surrounded by working farms, small factories, and a large manufacturing plant that employed most of the residents, but not anymore. With the plant moved overseas and the factories closed, the town might have fallen into destitution. But it hadn’t. Instead, Hayden had survived and looked to be in the process of going through a recovery phase. Though it was ripe with growth possibility, its success was still debatable.

  Dean drove down Main Street, checking out the sights. The varied structures looked more like colorful monopoly pieces than storefronts. A number of new shops, boutiques, cafés, and restaurants had replaced the ones he’d once known. There were changes everywhere. Nothing seemed familiar anymore. But, no matter how many changes were made, Hayden would always be the same for him—a small town steeped in historic beauty, forever on the verge of something new.

  To his surprise, several people smiled and waved as he drove by. He nodded and returned the gesture, even though he didn’t recognize them. But he knew it was the small-town way, welcoming and friendly. Unless of course you were a thirteen-year-old kid from Detroit with a few anger issues.

  He stopped at a traffic light and looked around, noticing several other storefronts empty or for rent. Then he remembered his time there. No matter how much time had passed, he’d never forget this place. This had been his home after his parents divorced. He’d come to visit his grandparents for four weeks one summer, and then had been made to stay for the next five years because neither parent wanted him.

  For a long time after that, he’d equated his time in Hayden to a prison sentence complete with wardens and guards. The day he left was like being paroled. He was finally free. It was the best day of his life and the worst. His one regret was leaving Carmen behind. But he’d had no choice. She had left him first.

  Thinking about her always made him pensive. What he’d lost with her was special. Although he had tried to find it with other women, no one had ever really come close. He’d loved her then and he loved her now. Coming back, he wasn’t sure what to expect. They hadn’t exactly ended well, but then their beginning hadn’t exactly been conventional either.

  He chuckled to himself, remembering how they’d met. Climbing out onto that attic roof that day had been pure insanity, but it had begun a friendship that was the best thing that had ever happened to him. As the light changed and he drove off, his cell phone rang and the electronic voice announced the caller, Jared Carr. He pressed the button on the steering wheel and answered. “Yo, what’s up?”

  “Hey, welcome back. I just heard you’re in Hayden.”

  Dean smiled. Hearing his old friend’s voice after hours on the road was a welcome surprise. They hadn’t seen each other in several months because of their demanding work schedules. Yet they still kept in touch as much as possible. They had been best friends, frat brothers, and roommates in college, and they had kept their friendship strong over the years since. Jared had become a major public relations and crisis management professional whose clients were mainly in the political realm.

  “Now how did you hear that? I just got here a few minutes ago. I’m driving through town right now.”

  “You know how small towns are—everybody knows everything instantly. If you sneeze in Savannah, someone in Hayden says gesundheit.”

  Dean chuckled. Jared had always made him laugh. “Ah yes, of course, the small-town added bonus, gotta love that.”

  “And you know, in my business, I hear everything. Especially when a celebrated computer mogul visits the area while in the process of merging his company, making a wad of cash, and possibly searching for a new site.”

  “That’s not what’s going on and you know it. No one can know that I’m actually selling the company. The stocks would go crazy and my employees’ livelihood would be in jeopardy. The only one here who knows is Marion Stiles.”

  “Speaking of which, how’s the sale going?” Jared asked.

  “So far, so good. My attorneys are doing their part. Everything should be done by Christmas Eve, so I get to take a short break for the first time in years.”

  “When’s the official announcement?”

  “Monday morning.”

  “Well, enjoy it while you can. I have a feeling it’s not going to last too long.”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m trying to keep a low profile. And it helps that I have a great team already in place.”

  “Smart. Plus, hanging out in a no-name town in the middle of nowhere was a good idea. You know word is you’re about to usher in another Silicon Valley East and everyone wants to know where.”

  “I don’t know where they get these news bites from.” Dean chuckled again. “So, tell me, what’s going on with you?”

  “I’m on my way to D.C. There’s a situation that needs my attention. I’ll be back the end of the week. You know we have to celebrate this thing big time. It’s a major accomplishment. It’s not every day you sell a multimillion-dollar company for some insane amount of money. We have to get the crew together.”

  “Definitely. A celebration sounds good, but we’re gonna have to wait on that until after the final announcement. I’m keeping everything under wraps for now.”

  “Understood. So where are you staying in Hayden?”

  “The Stiles, it’s a small bed-and-breakfast just outside of town. Three floors, eight full bedrooms, incredible views, and small lake in back. It’s perfect for a little solitude. I used to work there when I was a teenager.”

  “Oh yeah, I remember you telling me about that place when we were in college. Maybe I’ll stop by there one day. But, are you sure you don’t want to crash at my place in Savannah? It’s only a few miles away, five bedrooms, six bathrooms, heated po
ol, Jacuzzi, game room, full kitchen, basketball court, and five minutes from a serious golf course.”

  Dean laughed. “Come on, man, don’t tempt me. You know I have unfinished business to take care of.”

  “Grand marshal, yeah, I heard,” Jared said, chuckling.

  “Of course you did.”

  “I’m surprised you agreed to do it. If I remember correctly, you had some interesting stories about that sweet little town when we were in school.”

  “True, but I have my reasons.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you do. So, I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “All right, sounds good. Take care.” Dean ended the call just as he passed through the familiar iron and stone archway. It was adorned on either side with the now massive azalea, hydrangea, and peony bushes he had helped plant long ago. He followed the canopy of snarled, tangled branches dripping with Spanish moss from century-old oak trees until he eased around the last bend that led to the majestic Stiles Bed and Breakfast.

  Sitting atop a small mound of perfectly manicured grass and adorned with beautiful white Christmas lights, the massive four-story Victorian-style structure was breathtaking. It was white with hunter-green shutters, stained-glass windows, gingerbread trim, and classic accents. It had a wraparound porch with ornate railings that extended around three sides of the building. The front porch was lined with handmade rocking chairs and large potted plants filled with colorful flowers. Not surprisingly, the entire front was completely covered with festive holiday decorations.

  Dean parked his car in the small lot on the side of the building, then looked around briefly. Although he knew it was the same structure, a lot had changed with renovations and remolding. He headed up the front steps and looked around at the magnificent view. It was good to be back. As soon as he opened the screen door and stepped inside, he stopped. The sights, sounds, and smells of the holiday season were all around him. He was home.

  He walked farther into the foyer and saw two women laughing and talking at a table in the center of the space. One was Mrs. Stiles, the owner of the bed-and-breakfast. The other woman stopped him instantly. Seeing them, seeing her, filled him with elation. Even though her back was turned, he knew it was Carmen. He smiled. Her laughter was infectious and he instantly realized how much he missed the sound of her voice.

  He watched her lean across the table and grab a flower. There was no doubt, she had definitely filled out in all the right places. Her dark hair was a lot longer. It was swept up in a ponytail that hung straight down the center of her back. She wore a red knit sweater that hugged her slender body perfectly and the sweet sway of her hips in the trim skirt was damn near hypnotic. She had always had a certain style that was sweet and innocent, but now it was much more seductive.

  A moment later, Mrs. Stiles noticed him standing there. She smiled and welcomed him. Dean watched as she walked over to greet him. She was still a striking woman with ageless beauty and perfect features. As they hugged, he turned his full attention to Carmen. Her back was still to him, but then she turned around. She took his breath away.

  Years ago, she had been his best friend. He smiled. No, that wasn’t quite right. She had been his only friend. They’d met shortly after he arrived in Hayden. He had been thirteen years old and he’d had no idea what was really going to happen to him when he came to town. Then, when his parents left and he didn’t, he’d known he was stuck there.

  He’d felt betrayed by too busy, too selfish, too distracted-to-raise-him workaholics, constantly bickering about their divorce. They’d dropped him off and never looked back. After that, he hadn’t trusted anybody, not even his grandparents, because they’d known all along he was staying.

  A short while later, he’d started getting into trouble. Then he’d met Carmen and everything changed. He wasn’t as angry anymore. He told her everything, his hopes, his fears and his dreams. He trusted her. Yes, he still got into trouble, but she was always there to believe in him. She had saved him so many times without even knowing it. He loved her then and, as they got older, his feelings of love had deepened.

  For the last ten years they had been apart—he on the West Coast and she on the East. Over the years, he had tried numerous times to contact her, but he’d never heard back. She refused to speak to him. Now she had no choice. She had to communicate with him; he intended to make sure of that.

  Chapter 3

  Carmen felt her heart jolt. She looked down and watched her hands tremble nervously. “No, this can’t be happening,” she whispered to herself as she placed the flower she’d been holding back on the table. But his voice, rich and soulful, was unmistakable. It was as deep and smooth as she remembered. Melted chocolate on a hot summer day, and now it was more mature, sexy, and sultry. Her stomach quivered and her insides sparked. The burning ember she’d been holding on to all these years had ignited once again.

  “Oh, you are such a flatterer,” Marion joked.

  Carmen turned slowly, seeing Dean Everett standing in the foyer smiling. He had already swallowed her mother up in a huge warmhearted hug, but his eyes were unwaveringly focused on her.

  They stared at each other. She felt paralyzed as the sight of him stole what was left of the breath she’d been holding. He looked good, but then again, he always looked good—tall, dark, perfectly muscular, and too damn handsome. He had the same beguiling, half-crooked, captivating smile, and the same mischievous glint in his soft brown eyes. He was a bad boy all grown up and by the reaction of her body, he was still every bit as dangerous to her heart as before.

  He had always been the one. They had chosen each other when they were young. The first time she’d seen him, she had been sitting out on the roof of the attic watching the sunset. He had been with his grandparents at the annual barbecue get-together her father had always thrown at the beginning of every summer.

  “Hey, you up there, you gonna jump off?” he’d yelled up.

  She’d looked down, surprised anyone even noticed she was sitting four stories up on the attic roof. She’d shaken her head.

  He’d smiled. “I’m just asking ’cause I don’t want you falling down on my head when you decide to jump.”

  “Your head is safe. I’m not jumping,” she’d shouted down, surprised by her boldness. She was always shy around people, but for some reason, maybe because she was sitting on top of the roof, she felt bold and empowered.

  “So what are you doing up there?” he’d asked.

  “Looking at the view,” she’d said.

  He’d turned, seeing a mass of trees behind him. “What view?”

  “You can’t see it from there.”

  He’d nodded and walked away. A few minutes later, to her surprise, he’d crawled through the attic window and that had been the beginning of their friendship. She’d known right then there was something special about him. None of her other friends would ever dare climb out on the roof of the bed-and-breakfast attic. After that, through junior high and high school, they had been inseparable.

  Their last Christmas together was ten years ago. They’d sat out on the roof late that night and promised to stay together and then they’d sealed their friendship with a kiss. Of course she had been in love with him long before then.

  Her heart had claimed him, and no amount of online dating, computer dating, speed dating, or her mother’s incessant matchmaking was going to change that. No man ever compared to Dean, and she knew none ever would.

  “Hello, Carmen,” he said.

  She didn’t speak. She just nodded, silently fearful that if she tried to open her mouth she’d either scream her head off or run and kiss him senseless. Thankfully her mother had continued talking to him as she turned back to the flowers.

  She could have blamed her sudden muteness on being tongue-tied by seeing him again, but that wasn’t it. Suddenly it was ten years earlier and they were right here in this foyer again. He was professing his love for her and she was turning and walking away. She’d never forgotten how she’d felt�
�empty and alone. But she’d had to let him go because she’d known he would never be happy there. She hadn’t spoken to him since.

  Now he was big news, and all of the sudden the small town of Hayden was proud and honored to be his hometown. They proudly boasted that they were his roots and he’d gotten his computer savvy from living in the tech-forward town. And now that he was about to be extremely wealthy and possibly invest in a new community, the small town of Hayden wanted to make sure they stood first in line for his attention.

  Of course, every city, town, borough, and hole in the ground wanted a piece of him. Hooking him meant hooking his company, and that meant jobs, money, publicity, and prestige. What town wouldn’t want that? So why did Hayden’s council all of a sudden want him here? The answer was obvious. Who wouldn’t want him?

  “We’re all so thrilled you could come home this year. And you know you’re just in time for the festival of lights,” Marion said. “Unfortunately you missed the holiday craft fair, the gingerbread house contest, the children’s choir sing-along, the vintage car festival, and of course the Christmas-tree-lighting ceremony in the town square. It was glorious, but that’s okay. You’re just in time for the ice-sculpting event featuring scenes from Dickens’s A Christmas Carol. Plus the sensational Night of Lights celebrations and of course the spectacular holiday parade on Christmas Day.”

  “Mom, Mom, he knows all that already,” Carmen said.

  Marion smiled. “Yes, of course you do. After all, this is home,” she said as she reached up and gently touched the side of his cheek. “It’s so good to have you back home with us where you belong.”

  Dean looked around the open foyer and smiled. “You’re right, this was always home for me. I hung around here more than at my grandparents’ house. And, there’s no way I’d miss the rest of the Hayden Christmas festivities,” he said, then glanced at Carmen, who was now back to working on the floral arrangement. “So, Mrs. Stiles, I have a . . .”