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One Hundred Christmas Kisses (An Aspen Cove Romance Book 6)
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One Hundred Christmas Kisses
An Aspen Cove Romance
Kelly Collins
Copyright © 2018 by Kelley Maestas
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Victoria Cooper Art
Contents
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Thank you for reading.
Sneak Peek of One Hundred Lifetimes
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Acknowledgments
Sneak Peek of One Hundred Lifetimes
About the Author
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Chapter One
Evan Barkman was an asshole and an awful kisser. He was also Charlie’s boss, which made kissing him under the mistletoe the biggest mistake she ever made. It’s why she didn’t mix Christmas parties with alcohol. That was three days ago and she hadn’t spoken to him since. Well, she’d spoken to him because he was her boss, but their words were purely professional. They discussed puppies, bowel obstructions, and fleas.
“If I asked you to stay would you? I invited you on my trip,” Evan said.
While he locked up the pharmaceuticals, she walked around the operating table to toss the soiled linens into the laundry bag. They’d just removed a balloon from a beagle’s lower intestine and this would be the last laundry pickup before the holidays.
“No, I told you I’m going to Aspen Cove to visit family.” She had been on the fence about going home, but Evan’s badgering made the unpleasant thought of seeing her father more palatable. It had been ten years since they were together in the same room. That room had been the funeral home in Copper Creek. They closed her mother’s casket and she closed that chapter on her life. After eight years of schooling and two years working for an idiot, Charlie was ready to take a step back and re-evaluate everything. Changes needed to be made.
Evan walked around the table toward her, and she moved to the other side to avoid him.
“Why are you running from me?”
“I’m not running.” She made sure to keep at least a three-foot barrier between them. The damn man had long arms. “I told you the kiss was a mistake. It was too many spiced eggnogs mixed with poor judgment.”
The fact that he’d maneuvered her under the mistletoe was another story altogether. He’d been getting friendly over the last few months. Each time he passed her in the clinic, he found a reason to touch her. What started out as a graze of the hands across her back turned into a pat on the bottom or a brush of his arm across her breast. He had a sea of space to walk around, but he always chose the exact place she stood to crowd her.
“I don’t think it was a mistake. The kiss was perfect.” He made it around the stainless steel table before she could outmaneuver him. His hands gripped her shoulders and his lips covered her mouth. Cover was exactly right. Evan Barkman had a mouth the size of the Grand Canyon. It dripped saliva like Niagara Falls.
She pushed at his chest, but he held his position. He pulled back and said, “We’re perfect for each other, Charlie. It’s a match made in heaven.”
She knew that her next move would end everything, including her job. “We’re not a match. You’re a veterinarian and should know you can’t mate a water buffalo with a feline and come out with something good.”
“This could be good.” He pressed himself against her.
She positioned her knee for impact. When it connected to his groin, everything changed. His hands left her shoulders and dropped to his crotch. He stumbled back. “Why would you do that?” His voice had the pitch of a six-year-old girl.
“Because you’re an asshole, and I quit.” Charlie took off her lab coat and tossed it onto the table, walking out of Barkman’s Veterinary Clinic. Her job there had lasted two years. At least it would be a solid reference. She’d make sure to remind Mr. Barkman what a stellar veterinarian she was when she called to pick up her final paycheck and threaten to sue him for sexual harassment.
She stomped straight to her SUV and climbed inside. Her head fell to the steering wheel and she cried. Her tears flowed freely. Wasn’t it time to let all the anguish go? When she finished drying her cheeks with the hem of her pink scrub shirt, she started her car and took off toward home.
As if the universe was pushing her forward, Agatha Guild’s number popped up on her cell. She transferred the call to bluetooth.
“Hey, Agatha, how are you?”
“I’m finer than frog hair split seven ways, sweetheart. Just checking to see if you’ve decided to come for a visit?”
Agatha was her father’s new girlfriend and Charlie wasn’t sure how to feel about the woman who had stepped in to replace her mother. On one hand, she was grateful that her father wasn’t alone. Then again, she didn’t know how her mother could have been replaced. She had to give credit to the woman for being persistent in her quest to get Charlie Parker back to Aspen Cove. She’d called twice a week for the last six months.
“I’m in the car. I have to stop by my apartment and pick up my bag, and then I’ll be on my way. Please don’t tell my dad. I’d like it to be a surprise.” What she really meant was she didn’t want him to be disappointed if she got halfway and turned around because she lost her nerve.
“My lips are sealed. I can’t wait to meet you in person, Charlie. I’ve heard so much about you from your father that I almost feel like I know you already.”
“You do know me, somewhat. You’ve been like a dog with a bone trying to get me there with your calls.”
“There is that.” Agatha laughed. It was a soft trill of a sound that floated through the line.
Charlie knew without a doubt that she’d like her. That made her guilt even worse.
“I’m staying at the bed and breakfast. I’ll call you in the morning when I get up.” She’d made the reservation last week. It broke her heart that Bea no longer owned the place, but people got old and change was inevitable. For those reasons alone, it was time to mend fences with her dad. He was no spring chicken and after he got injured in a fire, which was why Agatha called in the first place, she’d given their situation a great deal of thought.
“Drive safely, Charlie. There’s a storm moving in.”
Great. “No problem. I drive in the snow all the time.” Not exactly a lie, but the inches they got in Kansas City would never compare to the feet they got in Colorado.
She hung up the phone and zipped by her apartment to change, get her suitcase, and pick up her computer. She’d need it since she’d have to look for a new job. The weather channel put a fire under her bottom. If she hurried, she might be able to beat the storm coming in from Albuquerque. She remembered all too well how the storms from the south brought too much moisture with them.
She grabbed a box of Little Debbie Cosmic Brownies and headed out. If she was lucky, she’d make the near seven hundred mile trip by midnight. Maybe quitting her job wasn’t such a bad thing. It got her fin
ished before noon. Then again, they were closing for the holidays, regardless. Thankfully, Dr. Barkman took two weeks off each year at Christmas to visit his mother in Florida.
Charlie wondered if she’d still get her Christmas bonus. While she wasn’t going to be homeless tomorrow, she would need to find a tenable situation soon.
Five hours into the drive, the flakes began to fall. She stopped for gas and pressed onward.
Had it really been ten years since she’d seen him? When her mother died she couldn’t forgive her father for not saving her. He was like a god in that region. People drove for miles to see Doctor Paul Parker because he always had the answers.
Her anger was the immature thought process of an eighteen-year-old girl who’d lost her mom. At fifty-eight, Phyllis Parker had been healthy as a horse. Not that all horses were healthy, but her mother had never had a health problem until the stroke, which was caused by a brain aneurism. How many people had her father saved and yet he couldn’t save his wife?
The guilt of her decision to pack up and go to college and never look back was what had kept her away. How could she make up for ten years of abandonment? She couldn’t.
The windshield wipers picked up their pace as the snow fell heavy and thick on the glass. Like an old lady, Charlie sat forward with her chin nearing the top of the steering wheel. She slowed to a sloth’s pace. She’d just made it past Denver when a red Mustang whizzed past her.
“Idiot,” she said aloud. “Even I know a front wheel drive won’t make it through the pass.”
It seemed that whoever was in that car was trying to race the storm that was already on top of them. Or he was the idiot of her initial thoughts. She said a silent prayer for the person because she wished no harm on anyone.
After a quick stop for a bathroom break and a coffee, she entered the pass that would take her through the winding mountainside. She halfway considered turning back but didn’t because she was almost there. Almost being a loose term meaning she had less miles to go than she’d already traveled. While the treacherous terrain of snowy, icy roads and idiot drivers were in front of her, there was nothing left behind her. She wondered if somewhere deep inside she’d created a situation where the only path left was forward.
She considered the future and what it might bring. At this point there were three things Charlie needed more than anything in the world. She needed a new job. She needed her father. She needed to forgive herself because, even though she’d blamed her father all those years ago, she truly felt responsible for her mother’s death. They’d fought that morning over where she’d go to college. Charlie wanted to attend college out of state. She wanted to experience life outside of a small town. Her mother had begged her to stay. That was part of the problem with being the only child of a couple who’d struggled to get pregnant. All their hopes and dreams landed on Charlie’s shoulders and it was a weight too heavy to bear.
She could still see her mother’s red face in her memory. And her last words would haunt her for life. She’d told Charlie that she’d just die if she was so far away. While realistically, Charlie knew it was a figure of speech, not more than an hour after their argument, Phyllis Parker was dead.
That was the minute everything changed. She knew that she could never be anyone’s everything. To do so put her heart at risk and she’d never survive anything so heartbreaking as losing someone else she loved. It was why she was on the fence about making up with her father. What if just as she entered his life again, he exited hers? She’d never survive.
Lately, she’d been hearing the whispers of her mother’s voice in her memory. Phyllis Parker was like a white, female Gandhi with all her quips and quotes. Charlie once asked her mother about finding love and was told that you don’t find love, it finds you.
She’d been waiting for years for it to find her. One thing she knew for certain was it didn’t come dressed in a lab coat and give sloppy kisses. If that were her only chance at love then she’d start filling her apartment with cats.
Chapter Two
“You ready, buddy?” Trig Whatley put a pillow on the front bucket seat of his Mustang and hefted his dog into place. Clovis was simply too fat to make the leap from the parking lot into the car. The basset hound was downright obese. While he was supposed to be Trig’s emotional support dog, it would appear that Clovis needed support too. He had a mean Milk Bone habit. Add to that the Beggin’ Strips addiction and he was in need of a twelve-step program. The dog settled into the pillow, lowered his muzzle and closed his eyes.
Trig looked over his shoulder to the water. He would miss living at the beach. He’d done a lot of healing and a lot of hurting here. It was on the strand, the wide cement walkway where he trained for the Rock and Roll Marathon. He looked at the waves and recalled the first time he’d body boarded after the accident. Terrified the salt water would irritate his already unhappy stump, he put off going into the water for months, but there were too many string bikinis diving into the surf to ignore. In the water, he appeared to be just like everyone else. It was when he got on land that the differences were noted.
The men looked at him like he was less than them and the women stared at him with pity.
That was where the hurt began. He could overcome the physical pain of losing his left leg below the knee, but the emotional pain was brutal. He was no less of a man than the day his Humvee was destroyed by an IED.
He gave the beach one last look and backed out of the parking lot. He’d sublet his studio apartment to a guy from his gym. Trig had no idea where this visit would lead but he hoped it would give him some clarity. With a permanent disability check, he wasn’t hurting for cash but he was hurting. All Trig wanted was to find a place where he felt normal, and to find a woman who would look at him and know that missing a leg didn’t make him less in any way.
“And we’re off.”
Clovis lifted his head.
“You, my friend, need more exercise.” He took the last Beggin’ Strip from the bag he had shoved into the cup holder and gave it to the dog. “This is the last one. We are cutting back on shit that isn’t good for us. I’m giving up feeling sorry for myself, and you’re giving up empty calories and all-day naps.”
The dog chewed on the treat slowly, like he was savoring the snack because it was his last. They pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store to get supplies for the trip.
“You want to come with me or stay in the car?”
Clovis looked at him, gave him a shake of his tail and went back to sleep.
“Suit yourself, but you’re getting carrot sticks from here on out.”
Trig wondered if Clovis was depressed. He’d watched Trig pack up their belongings. He’d gone with him to storage on several occasions. Over the last few weeks, they’d been living out of boxes while Trig decided where to go on their first adventure. When a call came from his army buddy Bowie telling him he should visit, Trig didn’t hesitate to say yes.
He got out of the car and pulled his pant leg over his prosthetic. He had several now. The first one he got looked like a shoe on a stick. The second one was modeled after his good leg minus the scarring from shrapnel. The third was his favorite. The blade runner was the most comfortable because it was designed for running. It was like walking on a springy cloud. It also got him through the marathon. While he didn’t come in first, he did pass the finish line before many able-bodied racers. Today he wore the shoe on a stick because it had a loose fit and felt more comfortable on long trips.
He walked through the store, throwing protein bars, bags of nuts and fruit in his cart. He got the baby carrots for Clovis and a case of water for them both.
“Excuse me.” A sweet voice came from the end of the aisle. “Can you help me reach something?”
He turned to see a hot redhead stepping onto the bottom shelf in front of her. “Wait, I’ll get it.”
She giggled and blushed as he walked over. This was how it always started—nice flirtatious conversation.
“What flavor were you reaching for?” Why the stockers put things so high was beyond him. He’d found it frustrating to accomplish anything when he’d been wheelchair bound. Hard to believe that was only two years ago.
“I really like the peach tea.” She pointed to the top of a beverage display. “But that’s the only one left and I can’t reach it.”
“No problem.” He lifted on his right leg and caught the box by his fingertips. Trig yanked it forward, not realizing he’d loosened the row below it. Without warning, the entire display toppled over with him tumbling with it. Before he knew it, he was on his back surrounded by a sea of Snapple. In his hands, raised above his head, was the box he’d reached for.
“Success.” He handed the woman the box and struggled to his feet.
“Oh my God, you’re soaked.” She pulled the roll of paper towels from her cart and went straight to dabbing him dry. He tried to move out of her reach, but she followed his retreat.
“I’m fine. You don’t have to—”
She wrapped her hands around his prosthetic leg, trying to dry his pants, then stopped. Her eyes lifted to his face. “Oh shit, you’re handicapped.”
Once again, he was no longer just a man helping out a woman. He moved back and gave her a look he knew frightened her by the way she scurried away from him.
“No, I’m handy. I was the one who got your tea. Let’s leave it at that.”
She let her chin drop and her shoulders round. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Thank you for your help.”
Trip nodded and walked away in his tea-soaked pants. He wondered why it felt like he was the one who had to educate the world.