Marrying Miss Kringle: Frost Page 19

  “Oh, well. Thanks.”

  “Yep.” She kept her arm plastered over the envelope until she was sure he was gone, and then she quickly stuffed it into her purse right along with the other letter she hadn’t read. Well, it wasn’t like she could pull them out here. And she couldn’t disappear into the ladies’ room, because she needed to get going on that list of phone numbers. She blew out, making her lips buzz. So much to do—so little time.

  Her phone beeped a text from Lux. Another .5 %. Hurry.

  Like she wasn’t already feeling the pressure. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she copied and pasted information from the three largest paper mills in the US and two in Canada. She sent the email to Tannon and then typed up a quick party-planning document. Her to-do list grew and grew and she fought against the desire to wilt into her chair.

  Chapter 23

  Tannon stretched his neck and then rolled it around several times, trying to loosen the knots in his neck. He’d spent the entire afternoon on the phone with two different corporations. The first one, Sheet Work, was interested, but they had financial troubles and probably wouldn’t qualify for the loan. They wanted him to personally finance at least half the cost of the mill. He’d promised to think about it but wasn’t keen to gamble.

  The second company, Paper Leaf, was based in Canada. They had a solid financial base but didn’t love the logistics of running one company in two countries. They wanted to come down and check it out before they committed, which was understandable and frustrating. They were working on arranging travel plans.

  Two down and three to go and Tannon was wiped out. He wasn’t made to be a salesman and it drained him.

  Frost came in, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. He could smell the chocolate from across the room. “Hazelnut?” he asked as he sniffed the steam. She’d given him a Grinch mug—her way of teasing him. He liked that they shared an inside joke; it made him feel closer to her.

  “Of course. It’s your favorite.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t remember telling you that.”

  She blew across the top of her mug. Hers was white with glittery snowflakes in blue, lavender that matched her eyes, and pink. “You don’t have to—good personal assistants know these things.” Her eyes smoldered, and he thought about kissing her right there in his office.

  He tapped the side of his mug and gave her a smirk. She smirked back.

  “You should head home. I’ve got a few more calls to make.”

  She gave him a don’t-be-silly look. “I’ve got a party to plan. I wanted to measure the room and draw up a layout for the refreshment tables, the DJ, and Santa’s sleigh.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand. “My place is empty anyway. I’d rather be here with you—it makes me feel less lonely.”

  He liked that, liked that he could help her just by being around. She definitely lifted his spirits. “You miss your family?”

  “Exponentially.” She sipped her cocoa.

  “Are you going home for Christmas?”

  She swallowed her sip. “Hopefully.” She ran her delicate finger around the rim of the cup, her eyes glazing over with thoughts she didn’t voice. Her phone sang “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas,” the song clear now that the noise of the office had died down. She set down her cup and hurried out to answer it.

  Tannon listened, wondering who would be calling her. Despite all the time they’d spent together, he didn’t know that much about her. Come to think of it, Frost was a miracle to have come from Mr. Cratchit. He was short, thick, bald, and had a big nose. Perhaps Frost got her looks from her mother.

  “Hello? Oh, hello, Mayor. Yes, that was me.”

  Tannon’s cell vibrated against the top of his desk. His father’s number popped up on the screen, and he held back a groan. No doubt the old man had gotten wind of the press conference/company meeting today and had a few things to say. Better to get it out now, while they weren’t face-to-face, than have to see the disappointment and anger in his old man’s eyes. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

  “Is this some kind of joke?”

  Tannon got to his feet, needing to have solid ground beneath him for this conversation. “I told you I was going to sell the mill.”

  “Not that—the light parade.”

  “The what?”

  “The parade. There are banners all over downtown announcing a light parade on Christmas Eve.”

  Tannon relaxed his fist. “I had nothing to do with a parade. The mill isn’t sponsoring it.” Although, perhaps it should. That would be a good way to get on the community’s good side.

  “Well, your personal assistant’s contact information is listed on the posters.”

  Tannon’s chin came up. “Hang on.” He covered the microphone on the phone. “Frost?” She poked her head in, her phone still at her ear, and raised her eyebrows silently asking what he needed. “Are you organizing a light parade?”

  She slipped her hand over her phone. “I’m trying to. The mayor is giving me grief about it right now.”

  Tannon growled. “I’ll bet my dad called him.” He pulled his hand away. “I’m going to look into this and call you back.”

  “I’ll not have it, Tannon. That light parade cannot happen.”

  Sometimes, when his Dad got like this, Tannon understood exactly why he’d rebelled all those years ago. The same old feelings of wanting to push all his dad’s buttons at once and have them light up like a Christmas tree came flooding back. Lucky for him, and his dad, he’d matured. Well, at least a little. “I’ll let you know what I find out.” They said goodbye and he waved Frost into the office. She came in, a slight frown on her beautiful face.

  Tannon reached for the phone, asking permission with his eyes. Frost held it out to him and shrugged. The mayor was going on about fiscal year and property taxes. Tannon’s lips twitched with a smile he wasn’t quite ready to let out of the box. “Jeff, this is Tannon Cebu.”

  Jeff sputtered to a stop. While the mayor was a tentative friend and best golf buddy with Tannon’s father, he was more of a distant uncle to Tannon. Tannon respected Jeff, and Jeff knew it. “Tannon? What’s going on over there?”

  By over there, Jeff meant at the mill. Frost grabbed his arm and pulled him and her phone closer so she could hear the conversation too. Tannon tipped the phone out. She might as well know the trouble she’d stirred up, although he doubted very much that she meant to cause any harm. “There’s been a lot going on. Big changes.”

  “So I hear.”

  “But you called to talk about the Christmas parade, I assume.”

  “Yes. It seems one of your employees has taken it upon herself to reinstate the light parade. This puts me in quite the pickle. We don’t have the funds for the parade, and she says there aren’t any sponsors. If I tell the town the parade is cancelled, I’ll go down in history as the Grinchy Mayor of Elderberry. If we do the parade, I’ll go down in history as the mayor who bankrupted the town.”

  Frost covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes expressing her horror at what she’d done. She pulled the phone closer to her. “I’m so sorry, Jeff. You’ve worked so hard to become Mayor—do you remember campaigning for hall monitor when you were in the second grade? Even then, you were thinking up slogans and walking kindergarteners to class to get votes. This is your calling in life, and now I’ve ruined it.”

  Jeff’s laughter boomed through the phone. “Let’s hope I’m a better politician than I was back then.” The line grew quiet for a moment as they thought over their options.

  “I can provide all the lights for the parade,” Frost offered. “I have connections.”

  “Well, that would cut back costs,” conceded the mayor.

  Tannon chewed his lip. “I’ll bet the Smooth and Minty would set up a hot chocolate stand and Mrs. Grant would sell doughnuts.”

  The mayor tapped in with, “The high school marching band would be happy to participate. We might even get a couple of the teams to be in the pa
rade.”

  “I’ll get them all glow sticks.” Frost grinned.

  Tannon’s gaze dropped to her mouth. He knew what kissing her was like, and he wanted more. They were close enough that it wouldn’t take much to make a kiss happen.

  “There is the matter of cleanup.”

  Tannon had an idea. “Our janitorial staff can take care of that.”

  “They’ll volunteer?” asked Jeff.

  “I’ll pay them time-and-a-half as our contribution to the celebration.”

  Frost put her hand on his chest and mouthed the words thank you. Heat started under her palm and spread throughout his body, making him feel as if he’d been in a hot tub and had his muscles melted to a pleasant goo.

  “Well, then, it sounds like we’re going to have a light parade after all,” said Jeff.

  Frost’s whole face lit up. “You’ll go down in history is the merriest mayor.” She giggled.

  Jeff chuckled. “Call my secretary and set up a meeting. I have a feeling you’re a person I should know.”

  Frost agreed, and they said their goodbyes and hung up the phone. She squealed and threw her arms around Tannon’s neck. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. He pulled her body flush with his and held her close, not wanting to let her go. She fit perfectly against him, and he couldn’t help but think that she’d been made for him and he’d been made for her.

  “Come on.” She released him and hurried to her desk. “We need to get downtown and talk to Smooth and Minty and Mrs. Grant’s Bakery.”

  “Now?” Tannon glanced at his watch.

  “Well, after we pick up Brody, of course.” She tossed her coat over her arm. “He’ll want to see downtown all lit up.”

  “How do you do that?” he asked as she retrieved his coat from the coat rack behind the Christmas tree.

  “What?”

  “Know exactly what I’m thinking.”

  Frost giggled. “It’s not hard. You’ve been here all day; I just guessed that you missed him.”

  They made their way out of the building. “What about measuring for the party?” Tannon asked as he pushed open the front doors. An icy chill smacked him in the face, and he shuddered.

  “I’ll come in early tomorrow.” Frost took his hand and chased away the chill. She pulled on his arm. “If we hurry, we can talk to a few other businesses tonight too.”

  Tannon couldn’t help but smile. “All this planning and dashing around makes me feel like a kid at Christmas.”

  Frost smiled over her shoulder. Her eyes gleamed with a secret joy. “Awesome!” She did a fist pump. They reached his car and he opened the passenger door for her.

  She climbed in, all bouncing and giggling and grinning. Unable to stop himself—or more likely unwilling to stop himself—he pressed a kiss to her cheek. She stilled, her cheeks dusting pink, and ran her hand down the side of his face. “I like it when you smile.”

  “I smile a lot when I’m around you.” Well, a lot more than usual.

  “It’s not me; it’s Christmas.” She reached for the seat belt. Tannon stepped back and shut the door. He made his way around the car. She may think it was Christmas, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t had this merry of a Christmas in a long time.

  The ride to his house passed in a blur of stolen glances at Frost. It’s a good thing he’d driven this route countless times, because his body made all the right stops and turns without his brain’s help. Once he’d put the car in park in the driveway, they hurried inside.

  Brody must have heard the door, because he was running towards them at full speed. “Frost!” He ran right past Tannon and smacked into Frost, wrapping his arms around her middle. Frost rocked back but managed to keep her footing.

  She hugged Brody back. “Are you ready to spread some Christmas cheer?”

  “Sure. How we gonna do that?” He scratched his nose.

  Frost released her hold on him and bent down to his level. “We’re going to find helpers for the light parade.”

  “Excuse me?” Dad stormed out of the family room, his face redder than Santa’s suit.

  Frost looked up, her eyes wide with fear. “You’re angry?”

  Dad threw his hands in the air. “You bet your sunny disposition I’m angry.”

  “Why?”

  Tannon held up his hands as if he could hold back Dad’s tirade. The moment continued to hurdle forward like the Polar Express sliding off the tracks and onto a frozen lake; there were no brakes to stop or even slow them down.

  “I forbid it—that’s why,” Dad thundered.

  Frost moved Brody behind her body and gave Dad a you’re-misbehaving glare.

  If Dad noticed her disapproval of his raised voice, he didn’t let it stop him. “We started the light parade the year Tannon was born, and we ended it the year we thought we were going to lose him.”

  “But you didn’t lose him. Shouldn’t that be celebrated?” Frost’s voice was as calm as a meadow after a snowfall.

  Dad looked right at Tannon, his voice lowering to a mere rumble. “We lost what could have been.”

  Tannon felt the words like a javelin to the chest. He’d always believed he couldn’t be good enough, smart enough, or enough enough, and now he had proof. He placed his hand on Frost’s back. He also had her. And being near her, having her believe in him, was more than enough for a happy life.

  “You’re right,” Frost said. “You lost what could have been, but not what was meant to be. Tannon’s cancer was tragic, and the loss of his leg terrible for all of you, but God’s plans for us are lifelong and you’re looking at the short game for answers. Replaying the tape over and over again and missing this part of the game.” She patted Tannon’s arm. “That’s your choice, Donald, just as it’s your choice to support or do your best to ruin the Christmas Eve parade.” Frost reached into her ever-present purse and pulled out a flyer. She ran her fingers along the edge of it, considering Dad for a moment before handing it to him.

  He glanced down, seemingly shamed into silence by Frost’s words. Or perhaps she’d touched his heart by acknowledging his pain. Had Tannon ever done that? Brody sneaked around Frost and grabbed his hand, looking up at him for reassurance. Tannon couldn’t imagine watching his son go through what he’d gone through as a child; it would tear him in two. Had he ever apologized for putting his dad through all that? The food trays thrown at the wall in frustration, the endless nights of crying in pain and for his own loss, the teenaged rebellion … The thoughts were big and new and hard to hold on to, and it was even harder to decide what to do about them.

  “Grand Marshal?” asked Dad. He flipped the paper around. “Did you know about this?”

  Tannon shook his head. “That was all Frost.”

  “Of course, we’d like your whole family to ride in the convertible. It’s baby blue and my family is bringing it down from Alaska just for this parade.”

  “They are?” Tannon asked. He hadn’t heard of the Cratchits having holdings in Alaska.

  Frost’s answering smile wobbled. “They will as soon as I ask them.”

  He folded his eyebrows together.

  Dad folded the paper in half, lining up the edges and swiping his fingers down the crease with sharpness. He then folded it once again so all four corners matched up. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’ll have to discuss this with Mary. We’ll get back to you.”

  Frost’s popped her lips. She could feign innocence and ease with the best Hollywood starlets. Tannon knew she was faking her composure, because he could feel her underlying discomfort almost as if it were his own. “You’re welcome to come tonight.” She turned slightly towards the door.

  “No, you all go on ahead.” Dad turned slowly, tapping the folded flyer against his chin thoughtfully as he walked. His head hung down and his steps were slow. Frost had really done a number on him. Then again, she’d force-fed Tannon food for thought as well. He’d need some time to process everything, and a quiet place to do it
in.

  Brody tugged on his sleeve, reminding him that there would be no peace until this guy had visions of sugarplums dancing in his head.

  “Grab your coat.”

  Brody broke into a run.

  Tannon watched him go, shaking his head. “Where does he get the energy?”

  “They siphon it from their parents.” Frost chewed her bottom lip. “Do you think your dad hates me?”

  Tannon slid his arm around her shoulder. “No one could hate you. You’re much too perky for that.”

  She poked him in the side. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “No, I appreciate the effort on my behalf.” She leaned into him. “You’re kind of strong and solid, you know that?”

  He didn’t, but he liked that she thought so. “I haven’t worked out in ages.”

  “I can’t tell.” Her hand flattened against his back, sending his thoughts into a blur.

  Brody reappeared, his snow boots tromping loudly on the wood floors. His young jubilance broke through the lazy, hazy, romantic feeling that came on all too easy when he and Frost were alone. If he was going to take it slow with her, then he’d need to cool his thoughts.

  “I think you forgot something.” Frost pulled a knit hat out of her purse and matching mittens. She slid them on Brody’s outstretched hands.

  “They’re warm.” He clapped them together as she put the hat on his head.

  Tannon leaned forward and caught the letter K embroidered on the back of each of the gloves. “What’s that?”

  Frost stammered. “That’s, uh, my family crest.”

  “Huh. I thought your last names started with a C.”

  She lifted a shoulder and flipped around to open the door. Mom hadn’t shown her face the whole time they were there, so Tannon sent her a text letting her know they were taking Brody.

  It was nice to have Brody along. He asked dozens of questions on the ride, everything from what a light parade was to how they keep all the extension cords plugged in. Frost giggled and explained about using car batteries to power the strands of lights.