Lorraine Beatty - Her Christmas Hero

He’d had enough. This woman was getting under his skin. She shoved him off balance every time she spoke, and with every glance from those incredible green eyes. Seeing a pen and notepad on the counter, he scribbled down his cell number. “If you need anything, call. Day or night. I mean that.”

“Of course you do. Your mother would tan your hide if you didn’t. Right?”

Either she didn’t think much of him or she knew his mother better than he’d expected. Whatever—he wasn’t going to expend any more effort on making her feel at home. His mom could do that when she got back. “Good night.” He walked past the table and noticed the photos from last year’s Christmas events. Beside them were sketches of the same scenes, only far more elaborate. He touched one sketch with his fingertips. “What are these?”

Gemma came to his side. “My designs for decorating the downtown.”

“But this looks nothing like it did last year.”

“That’s the point. The Chamber wants to expand everything. More lights, more activities, more decorations.”

“Why?”

“To bring in more business. Over the next few years they’d like to see Dover become a Christmas destination spot.”

“Does my mother know about this?”

“Yes. Of course.”

Blindsided again. Linc nodded and made his way to the door. Everything in his life was upside down and backward. Gemma followed him.

“Thank you for the pie.”

He stopped and looked back at her, caught again by how lovely she was. “You’re welcome.”

Linc made his way down the steps, nearly tripping on his laces. He propped his foot up on a planter and tied them before marching back to the house.

This Gemma was going to completely change Dover’s Christmas. He liked it the way it was. Time to have another talk with his mother. Surely she didn’t intend for this woman to toss out the cherished holiday celebrations.

Suddenly his mom’s suggestion that he attend the Chamber meetings and help Gemma sounded like a great idea. His mom was right about one thing. He did know the Christmas events down to the last plastic poinsettia. He’d make sure she didn’t destroy the holiday traditions the people in this town treasured—and that she kept things the way his mother always had.

* * *

Gemma closed the door behind Linc, then returned to the kitchen and stared at the pie. That had to have been Francie’s idea. She seriously doubted Linc would think of that on his own.

She smiled as she imagined Linc’s reaction to Francie’s request to bring a pie to the new tenants. No doubt he’d whined and rolled his eyes the way Evan did when faced with an unpleasant task. Why else would Linc traipse over here with his shoes untied?

When she’d seen him coming up on the porch, she’d braced for another confrontation and assumed her most pleasant expression. The one she used for clients who were inclined to be difficult. But when she’d opened the door, he’d looked stunned—and confused. He’d recovered quickly, unleashing his charm, but it was obvious he was unhappy with playing gentleman host.

It was all a wasted effort where she was concerned. She felt certain he was accustomed to women melting under his disarming smile, and to be fair, it had caused a small hitch in her breath. She doubted he was used to women challenging his motives.

What he didn’t know was how fragile her bravado actually was. Resting a hand on her throat, she took a few deep breaths to slow her heart rate and calm the flutters in her stomach.

She’d have to keep her head around Linc. He put the electric in Montgomery Electrical. Energetic and aggressive, with his piercing blue eyes, the perpetual scowl on his chiseled features, he was the kind of man who could overpower you with his personality alone. Which meant he wasn’t the kind of man she ever intended to get close to. The thought of being overpowered again chilled her blood. She forced the memory back into the dark corner of her mind, praying for peace. The past was over. She had Evan. That was all she wanted to remember.

“Mom? Did that man leave?”

She motioned her son to her side. “Yes. Why?”

He exhaled a loud sigh. “I wanted to ask him about football and stuff.”

Gemma’s shoulders sagged at the thought. Another challenge to guard against. She didn’t need her son developing a case of hero worship for a man like Linc. Though he had been kind to Evan earlier, she knew better than to make any snap judgments about men. Besides, Linc hadn’t come of his own accord in a gesture of welcome or apology. He’d come because he’d been ordered by his mother.

“We’ll talk about that tomorrow. It’s time for bed.”

After settling Evan for the night, Gemma returned to the dining room to go over her presentation one more time. She’d spent a good portion of the past two days sketching out ideas for decorating the town square. Looking at her drawings released a bubble of excitement from deep inside—helping to chase away the unease Linc had left in his wake. Tomorrow she would meet with the Chamber officials to present her preliminary plans, and she needed to be prepared. If she succeeded in Dover, it would open the doors for her future. She could return to Charlotte, or anywhere for that matter, and start another business. New name, new focus, new goals. Ones that didn’t include trusting someone else.

Chapter Three

Gemma waited patiently the next afternoon as the officers of the Dover Chamber of Commerce passed around her drawings for the downtown Christmas decorations. She’d received a warm welcome from everyone. She’d already met Pete McCorkle, the president, but this afternoon she’d been introduced to Celia Jones, the membership director; Jeff Wilson, director of sales; and the treasurer, Leon Skelton. They had expressed their excitement over the expansion of the Christmas celebrations. She’d also met Leatha Delmar, who would be her assistant, and who had greeted her with a warm hug and assurance that she would help with everything. As a longtime resident of Dover, Leatha’s knowledge and experience would be invaluable.

Pete studied her drawings, a pleased smile on his face. “These are wonderful. This should draw people from up in Jackson to come down and see our decorations.” He glanced at her. “Can you do this within the budget?”

“I believe so. Provided we can get the business owners on board to help. I’m hoping for a few volunteers to help me coordinate details and work with store owners. And I’ll solicit donations where I can. I’d like to incorporate the other events you have—the community dinner, the toy drive. Bring all the events together, which will ultimately help all the merchants, not just the ones around the square.”

Celia nodded in agreement. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble. For years, we’ve wanted to do more with Christmas beyond tossing up a few lights.”

“May I ask why you haven’t?”

“Money, mainly. We have two other large events and fund-raisers during the year. A Founders Day celebration in the fall, and a sidewalk sale and cook-off in the spring. It’s only been with the closure of the Southways plant that we were forced to look for another means of revenue. We decided to make more of our charming downtown and put more effort into the holiday.”

“I think that was a wise decision. Your town square is ideal for showcasing Christmas celebrations.”

Pete clasped his hands on the table. “I like your ideas and your enthusiasm. How soon can we get started on this? I’m afraid we haven’t given you much time. It’s already late October.”

Gemma kept her demeanor professional, but inside she wanted to leap for joy. “I’d like to start with a meeting of the local business owners as soon as possible. I’d also like to see what you have on hand as far as lights, signs, banners, holiday decor, things like that.”