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The Complete Christmas Collection
The Complete Christmas Collection

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The Complete Christmas Collection

Язык: Английский
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“Uh-oh. Your sister told her about this morning?” She took another bite of chicken. Heaven, she decided. The man was a genius in the kitchen.

“Marie couldn’t wait to share the good news, believe me.” He picked up his fork and stabbed at the pasta.

“I’m good news?” For some reason that struck her as funny. “Doesn’t she know you’re just helping me out for a couple of days?”

“My mother is hoping I’ll fall in love with you and she won’t have to worry about my being alone when I’m an old man.”

Didn’t his mother realize this man could have any woman he wanted? He’d charmed everyone on the staff and most customers. All he had to do was smile and women melted. Grace pushed her thoughts aside. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to fall in love with him, and she couldn’t risk that. She’d learned her lesson: stay away from men with charisma and commitment issues.

“That’s what she worries about? You being alone?”

“That’s one of many things.” He made a face. “I love them all—my mother, my sisters—but they worry too much.”

They sounded nice, Grace thought. “They care about you and they want you to be happy.”

“This is true.” He grinned. “You could make them—and me—ecstatic, you know, if you would do me a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” She looked down at her empty plate. How had she eaten all of that?

His eyebrows rose. “You do owe me, sweetheart. For room and board.”

Grace choked back a laugh. “Nice try, Chef Hollywood.”

Nico groaned. “Cheap shot.”

“That’s what they called you in the tabloids. Hot Hollywood Chef, Chef Hollywood, Naughty Nico.”

“I’m not the man the media made me out to be. I never was,” he insisted, taking a sip of wine. He waved his arm toward his vintage kitchen. “Does this look like Hot Hollywood Chef style to you? The stove is green, for heaven’s sake.”

She wasn’t sure what the color of the stove had to do with Naughty Nico, but she remembered his mention of remodeling. “You’re going to modernize the kitchen, aren’t you?”

“Not exactly. I like its charm,” Nico declared. “I’ve found a designer who understands what I want.”

“A kitchen that looks like it belongs with the house but with high-end appliances and all the amenities.”

“Exactly. How did you know?”

“I watch a lot of those house-remodeling shows on HGTV,” she informed him. “I have the lingo down.”

He looked at her empty plate. “You like my food.”

“Of course.”

Nico beamed at her, stood and quickly cleared the table. “You look happy. And relaxed. And you are not in pain.”

“I took another ibuprofen.” She’d removed the boot and Nico had draped her foot with one of those refreezable ice packs from the drugstore. “It doesn’t hurt as much as it did a couple of hours ago.”

“Then let’s talk about this favor you owe me.” He returned to the table and refilled her wineglass. Grace didn’t protest. She was warm and content and even though Chef Hollywood was flirting with her again, she knew that was just part of his personality. For a Tuesday night, this was pretty darn good, as long as she kept reminding herself not to take him seriously.

“It’s Tuesday night,” she said. “I usually watch Hell’s Kitchen. Or the show with the little kids cooking. Master Chef Junior.”

“Don’t think I don’t know that you’re changing the subject,” Nico warned. “But I like the show with the children, too. We could do something like that at the lodge, you know. Just for a day. Or maybe a weekend. With some local kids.”

“Really?”

“For charity,” Nico added. “This summer?”

“I like it.” She took a sip of wine. The idea had all sorts of possibilities, so many her head swirled. Or maybe that was the wine.

“It’s almost Christmas Eve,” Nico said.

“So I’ve heard. We have a lovely wedding to work.”

“We do,” he agreed. “But before that...” He paused. “Well, actually before, during and after that, is the Vitelli family Christmas Eve party.”

“All afternoon and night?”

“Just about. We’re Italian. The cooking and eating goes on for hours.”

“And you’re going to miss it?”

“Noelle’s wedding’s at seven, cocktails after and dinner at eight-fifteen, which leaves plenty of time for photographs. Michael is itching to prove himself and we’ll have the prep done. I’ll be at my parents’ from one o’clock until five or so. I hate to miss dinner, but they understand. Everyone has commitments, the little kids have to go home and go to bed early, but somehow we’ll manage to spend a few overlapping hours together in total chaos and with enormous amounts of food.”

“All right,” Grace said. “I can oversee the setup in Wildwood. I’ll be decorating in the morning—the florist is coming early—and will have everything ready for the appetizers. Michael and I can manage without you. It’s a simple wedding and the whole staff is pitching in.”

“Sweetheart, that’s not the favor.”

She couldn’t think what else he would need. And whenever he called her “sweetheart” her brain turned to bread crumbs.

“Quit frowning at me like that,” Nico said. “I’d like you—I need you—to come to the family party.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve. It’s family.”

“Precisely. If I don’t bring you they’ll do nothing but ask me questions about you.”

“Because I’m staying here.” Or because you’ve kissed me. Because sometimes you look at me as if you are totally enthralled with the person you see? Because I blush when you tease me and secretly adore it when you take care of me? She eyed her ankle. Had a sprained ankle brought her a hint of romance? “You told them why, though?”

“Well, sure. And they’d like to meet you anyway.” He smiled. “Come on, do me a favor. If they think I’m keeping you a secret, which they do, they’ll never leave me alone.”

“Nico...” She didn’t know what to say. His family would think they were a couple. She was living in his house, for heaven’s sake. And she needed to remind herself she was only there because he felt responsible for her. Assuming there was anything else going on could only lead to major disappointment. She needed to stop thinking about kissing him and start getting a grip on reality.

“Stuffed manicotti,” he murmured, taking her hand in his. “Lasagna. Meatballs that will melt in your mouth. We don’t always do the traditional fish courses, having been corrupted by three sons-in-law whose requests for meat have to be honored. Antipasto. Cheeses. Shrimp risotto. And wine.” He stroked her palm with his thumb. “Lots of wine. Only the best Chianti. And Pinots, too.”

She groaned, but she didn’t remove her hand from his. He’d held her hand before and she’d discovered she liked that gesture. She liked that gesture very, very much. “You’re trying to bribe me with food?”

“Tiramisu like you’ve never had it before, babe,” he growled in a mock-sexy voice.

“They’ll think I’m your girlfriend,” she cautioned. “Instead of a clumsy coworker who can’t climb stairs.”

“They’ll think you’re lovely,” Nico said. He released her hand. “You’ll be doing me a favor, remember?”

“Tiramisu?”

“Tiramisu.” They clinked glasses to seal the deal. “Now,” Nico said, “let’s talk about this shower. I’m thinking hot and cold appetizers, with red and white wines, some local beer and a chocolate-dessert bar. A friend of Noelle’s called me and said she’d bring chocolates from the Candy Man. How many people are coming?”

“Thirty, maybe a few more. I think it’s mostly staff and Noelle’s and Ted’s friends. More of a party than a typical shower.”

“No games? No bouquets made of ribbons?”

“I doubt it.” Grace chuckled, and then stifled a yawn. “But Patsy’s involved, so you never know. She has a wild side.”

“Can I help you get to bed?”

“I think I’ll use the crutch so I don’t have to put the boot back on.” Grace put her foot on the floor and wiggled her sock-covered toes. “I think it’s getting better. I should be able to manage my stairs tomorrow.”

“Give it another day or two,” Nico said, handing her the crutch. “Don’t risk hurting yourself before then. I’ll help you move back home after the wedding.”

She thought about that while he helped her to her bedroom and turned down the quilted comforter. She’d made her bed this morning by hopping carefully on one foot.

“Do you need help with anything?” He held her gently by the waist, ignoring the dog who had woken from his nap under the kitchen table and now pattered into the room.

“No. I’m fine.” She’d hung the flannel nightgown on a hook on the back of the bathroom door, tucked her makeup and toiletries into two empty drawers by the sink. She didn’t intend to be a messy or demanding houseguest.

“Okay, then.” He hesitated, then leaned down and slanted his mouth over hers. Her arms went around his neck in the most natural way, her lips responded to the warmth of his. On a scale of one to ten, the kiss was a fifteen, with extra points for self-control, Grace decided, pulling back slowly.

“Good night,” he whispered, touching his lips to her cheek, her earlobe, her neck.

Shivers.

“Good night,” she managed to croak, though part of her wanted to grab him by the front of his shirt and haul that sexy mouth of his back to hers. She resisted, but just barely.

“See you in the morning,” Nico said, giving her a quick hug before practically running out of the room.

Grace thought about that kiss as she brushed her teeth, washed her face and slipped the nightgown over her head. She thought about it as she lay in Nico’s beautiful guest room bed, his dog snoring softly next to her. Her foot ached and her arms were sore from using the crutches, so she was content to be snuggled under the covers and nestled into mounds of down pillows.

He’d kissed her as if he meant it.

She was going to have to be very careful. He might intend to stay here in town and he might be perfectly content with running the lodge’s restaurant, but would that last? She’d thought Josh was going to stay forever, too, and look what happened there. She’d been left alone, after being certain they had a future together.

No matter what Nico said, Grace didn’t think Chef Vitelli was the domestic, small-town guy he thought he was.

CHAPTER EIGHT

NICO WAS PREPARED this time. Yesterday he’d been caught by surprise when his nephew and sister arrived for the dog, but this morning he expected visitors.

And visitors came, shortly after he’d checked in with his staff, taken care of a few minor staffing issues due to something called the Jingle Bell Run, arranged for one of the wedding guests to deliver breakfast to another wedding guest, discussed a frozen-blueberry shortage with Michael and okayed next week’s meat order.

“Is she still here?” His middle sister, Cathy, followed her nephew into the living room. She wore jeans, a thick vest and hiking boots. Her long brown hair was wrapped into a braid that hung over one shoulder and her cheeks were pink from the cold. She was his most domestic sister; she baked bread, sewed quilts, knit and made sure that her younger brother’s house was clean. Her two little ones, both girls, had their mother’s cheery disposition and their father’s red hair.

“She is. And she’s in the shower, so don’t go barging into the bedroom wanting to meet her.” He handed Al’s leash to Brian. “Here you go, kid. He’s all yours until tonight. I might be working late.”

“That’s okay, Uncle Nico.” Al wagged his happiness and grinned at the boy. “He can sleep over if you want.”

“I won’t be that late,” he said.

“Do you have a date?” Cathy arched her eyebrow at him.

“No, I have a bridal shower. A last-minute thing that was supposed to have been a rehearsal dinner,” he explained. “Grace and I are putting together a wedding for tomorrow night.”

“‘Grace and I,’” she repeated, looking amused. “Interesting.”

“Yes,” he said. “It is. So get out of here. Where are my beautiful nieces?” As if he had to ask. No doubt she’d dropped them off at Grandma’s house so she could accompany Brian to fetch Al. He half expected Beth to show up any minute, though his very pregnant sister might be too far along to feel like leaving her cozy home in town. He guessed she’d be waiting for an update from Cath via text, though.

“With Mom. You’re making breakfast,” Cathy said, pushing past him to peer at the kitchen counter. “Your famous French toast. And berries. You have fresh raspberries, for heaven’s sake!” She turned an accusing eye on him. “You only make that for us on our birthdays.”

“Out.” Nico pointed toward the door from which Brian and Al had just exited. “Now. Before Grace sees you and is embarrassed all over again. She’s not too pleased about staying here, but her condo in town is on the second floor. And she’s on crutches.”

“That’s what Marie said, not that we believe that for a second. She could have stayed at the lodge.”

“All booked up,” he said, pointing once again to the door. “It’s our busy season.”

Cathy didn’t budge. None of the women in his family were easily bossed.

“Mom said you might be bringing her tomorrow.”

“I certainly plan to.” He was going to do everything in his power to make sure that she came with him. She was alone, with no family, on Christmas. But she had him, and she had the Vitellis. If he wanted her to know him as someone other than Chef Hollywood, she would have to see where he came from.

“That’s serious.”

Nico didn’t reply. Instead, he took her elbow and guided her to the front door. “Think what you want, Cath. I have to get ready for work.”

“Good luck.” She gave him a quick hug before she left. “I hope she’s worthy of you.”

He couldn’t help laughing.


“I CAN’T BELIEVE tomorrow is Christmas Eve already.” Patsy handed Grace a cup of coffee and sat down in the chair across from the desk. “First things first, are we set for the Jingle Bell Run today?”

Grace looked at her list. “Yes. We donated three prizes—two spa packages and a Valentine’s Day weekend stay. Seven of the staff are participating and there will be some celebrating in the bar afterward, I suspect. The guests received invitations to join or watch.”

“I donated a couple of reindeer hats and one very ugly Mrs. Santa sweater. And I assume we’re ready for the wedding?”

Grace waved a hand toward the stacks of boxes. “We are ready. Nico loaned me one of his interns—”

“I heard she was thrilled to get out of deveining shrimp.”

“Yes. That’s what she told me. And she—Jilly—follows directions beautifully,” Grace said. “Noelle loved the little pinecone place-card holders, too.”

“You have the names of the guests? That was quick.”

“Our new bride gave me a list and the seating chart. That girl wasted no time getting this together, thank goodness. Ted’s been helping any way he can. They make a good couple.” She took a sip of coffee. “Thanks for this.”

“The chef’s special blend.” Patsy grinned. “He seems quite smitten.”

“That’s an old-fashioned word.”

“I’m an old-fashioned woman.” She leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. Today Patsy wore a black pantsuit, white blouse and a cluster of vintage Christmas pins on her left lapel. “He’s crushing on you. Is that better?”

Grace had to laugh. “Ridiculous.”

“Not so ridiculous,” her friend pointed out. “You two have a lot in common. You both work in the hospitality business, you both like working with people and you’re both good at what you do. You live in the same town, you’re old enough to know what you want. The people you work with respect you both. Plus, he’s very good looking and he comes from a nice family.”

Grace thought about what Nico had told her last night. “He’s very close to them.”

“Another plus.”

“You sound like a matchmaking service.”

Patsy shrugged. “I’m just pointing out the obvious. Just don’t tell me you’re still in love with what’s-his-name. And don’t tell me your heart is still broken over that guy, because you’re smarter than that.”

“I’m not heartbroken,” Grace declared. “But I am a little more wary that I used to be. You can’t blame me for that.”

“Blame you for what?” Nico, wearing his official chef’s jacket and unofficial blue jeans, stepped into the office. He held a legal pad in his hand and smiled at both of them. “Should I come back later? I just wanted to go over the menu for tomorrow night.”

“Stay,” Patsy said, giving Grace a quick wink as she rose from her chair. “I have accounts to deal with. You’re staying for the shower?”

“Absolutely. Jilly has gone into town to get a gift certificate from the Adirondack Store for me. That’ll be my gift.” She eyed her foot. Still trapped in the boot, it peeked out from the hem of her swirly gold-and-green skirt. She’d chosen a deep emerald V-neck sweater and gold snowflake earrings to continue her holiday-themed week. “I’m glad my Christmas shopping is all done because I’m not in any shape to hit the stores now.”

“Thank God for that,” Nico said, moving aside for Patsy. “I’m a terrible shopper and I’d have to go with you to make sure you didn’t trip on any of the Christmas decorations. How long do we have to stay?”

“We?”

“I go where you go, babe. Unless you want to try to drive with that boot on your foot.”

She didn’t.

“For an hour or so into the party,” Grace said. “I need to make sure everything is set up the way her friends want it. There will be enough staff members there to take over for us after that. Do you need to stay late in the kitchen?”

He shook his head and plopped down in the chair across from her. “Michael can handle the dinner service. We expect it to be fairly light, so we can head home whenever you like.” He looked down at his notes. “So, let’s talk about our wedding, shall we?”


EVERY TIME HE saw Grace she was in motion. She’d organized the table arrangements, created a gift table and used some of those little lighted jars to decorate the buffet, all while propped up on crutches. Nico had kept the food simple, turning the formal rehearsal-dinner food for the Barrett guests into hearty appetizers. Maria had baked chocolate cupcakes and the interns had practiced their cake-decorating skills by frosting them. He’d had to demonstrate proper pastry bag technique, which meant the opportunity to show off a bit.

Just like on television.

It had all been worth it. The bride and groom had been completely surprised, having been tricked into thinking they were meeting friends for dinner. The mood in Wildwood was festive, with the groom’s favorite blues track playing from the speakers and the bride’s friends laughing and talking nonstop.

The interns, basking in the glow of compliments from their boss, continued to put out appetizers. He waved to Patsy, who gave him a thumbs-up and then made her way through the crowd to greet him.

“Nice job, Chef.”

“Thank you.” They both looked at the happy couple. Grace was explaining something to them, waving one hand toward the gift table as she spoke. One of the EMTs who had taken her to the clinic approached, put his arm around Grace’s waist and then whispered in her ear.

“What the—”

“He’s no competition,” Patsy said. “At least, I don’t think so. He’s been asking her out for a year and she hasn’t said yes yet.”

“There’s always a first time,” he grumbled. “The guy looks like Paul Bunyan. He could carry her off to the top of the mountain and we’d never see her again.” Seriously, the guy had legs like tree trunks and a chest the size of Montana.

“But she’s been spending all of her time with you,” Patsy pointed out. “And in your house, no less. I hope your intentions are honorable.”

“I’m taking her to meet my parents tomorrow. Does that count?”

“She said yes to that? Good.”

“She did.” He couldn’t help sounding proud. “I told her she was doing me a favor.”

“If you hurt her I will take all of your fancy, expensive knives down to the beach and use them to cut firewood.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nico said. “Duly noted.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he locked them up at night.


HE MISSED HIS chance to help Grace to bed. He had to deal with seventeen text messages and nine voice mails. The texts, from his sisters and his nephew, involved food, dog care and requests for wine recommendations. The voice mails were from his father, his mother, three friends vacationing in Mexico and his agent in LA.

His cell phone rang again once he arrived back home with Grace in tow. She’d insisted on using the ramp and managed just fine by holding on to the railing. It was clear she was feeling better, which meant he’d soon have to let her go.

But maybe not for long. She’d kissed him last night as if she’d meant it.

He had hope.

A lot of hope.

She blew him a kiss before she limped down the hall, Al following devotedly behind her, just as Nico wished he could.

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