One Christmas Wish by Brenda Jackson
CHAPTER ONE
Three months later
SIERRA CRANECRINGEDevery time her ex-husband called. Their marriage had ended almost two years ago, so why couldn’t he get on with his life the way she had gotten on with hers? She hadn’t heard from him since the divorce and now this was the second phone call in a month.
And why did he always manage to call her at the worst time? The dinner crowd was arriving at her soup café, the Green Fig, and she was short a waitress tonight. The last thing she needed to be doing was talking on the phone to her ex.
“What is it now, Nathan?” she asked, trying to keep her voice low to avoid being overheard by the customers coming in.
“You know what I want, Sierra. We rushed into our divorce and I want a reconciliation. We didn’t even seek counseling.”
She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t as if counseling would have helped their marriage. She had put up with things for as long as she could, and had to remove herself from that toxic environment. His infidelity had been the last straw, and then there had been his total lack of sensitivity when her best friend Rhonda Andrews was dying.
“Why are we even discussing this, Nathan? You know as well as I do that no amount of counseling would have helped our marriage. You betrayed me. I caught you in the act. Look, I’m busy,” she said when she saw customers waiting to be seated. “And do me a favor and don’t call back. Our divorce is final, and I intend for it to stay that way. Goodbye.” She clicked off the phone and, for good measure, she blocked his number.
Moving from behind the counter, she assisted her staff in seating customers and taking orders. It was an hour later when the dinner rush had ended that she found the time to go into her office and work on tomorrow’s menu. The monitor screen on her desk was connected to a video camera showing the perimeters of the dining area. If she was needed to assist her staff again, she would know it.
She sat in the chair behind her desk thinking about Nathan’s call. The nerve of him thinking they could get back together. Not only had he cheated on her but he had resented all the trips she’d taken from Chicago to Houston to spend time with Rhonda in her final days. It hadn’t mattered to him that Rhonda was terminally ill and there had been so much to do and so little time left.
The main focus had been the well-being of Rhonda’s four-year-old daughter, Teryn, who’d lost her father two years earlier in Afghanistan. Without family on both sides, Sierra was Teryn’s godmother and Rhonda had made Sierra promise to take care of Teryn when the time came. Nathan, who’d never wanted children, had been resentful of that, too.
It had been one of those weekends she’d visited Rhonda in Houston and she’d returned home early to find another couple, namely her neighbors, in bed with her husband. That’s when she’d found out about his swinging lifestyle. He’d confessed it was something he had tried during his college days but thought he had put behind him...until he had discovered their new neighbors had enjoyed doing that sort of thing.
When Sierra had filed for divorce, Nathan assumed if he kept sending her flowers, calling her all the time, and showing up unexpectedly at her new residence with chocolates, designer purses and jewelry, he could wear down her resistance and she would call off the divorce. He finally saw that wasn’t happening.
An hour later Sierra left her office to return to the dining area. It was time for her only waitress on the floor tonight to take her break. Sierra had just stepped behind the counter when the sound of the bell above the door alerted her that she had a customer.
The Green Fig, which served lunch and dinner Mondays through Fridays, had been open for business for only a year. The restaurant closed every night at eight. Most of her customers were locals who’d known her grandmother and were happy that Ella Crane had passed her delicious soup recipes on to her granddaughter.
Sierra had a good staff. She’d hired Emma, who’d been a friend of her mother’s for years, as head cook and Maxine, who’d graduated from the New Orleans cooking school last year, as Emma’s assistant. Normally there were two waitresses, Iris and Opal, who handled the dining room, and Sherri took care of the take-out orders. On any given day there were more take-out orders than sit-down orders, especially during lunch.
She’d hired Levi Canady as the assistant manager. An ex-cop who’d retired early from the force due to an injury, he was also a good friend of Sierra’s father from their elementary school days. Levi was a godsend and would take over for Sierra whenever Teryn came home from school. He managed the restaurant every night except on Wednesdays. He also opened and closed for her on Saturdays, when the restaurant was open only for lunch. Whenever Teryn had gymnastics practice Sierra would help out in the café until she got home. Today was one of those days.
Sierra glanced at the door and saw Vaughn Miller walk in, dressed in a business suit. On any other man the outfit would probably look like just regular professional attire, but on him it appeared tailor-made. He was a very handsome man and looking good in anything he wore was just part of who he was.
Sierra didn’t know Vaughn personally, although they had both been born in Catalina Cove and had attended the same schools. She hadn’t had the right pedigree to be in his social circles since his family had been one of the wealthiest in town. They had come from old money, probably as old as it could get in the cove when you were a descendant of the town’s founder.
When Vaughn Miller took a seat at one of the booths, she grabbed a menu out of the rack and headed to his table. He’d come in once or twice before, but it had always been for takeout. It appeared that today he intended to dine in.
“Welcome to the Green Fig.”
He looked up when she handed him the menu. “Thanks.”
This was the closest she had ever been to Vaughn Miller and she couldn’t help noticing things she hadn’t seen from a distance. Like the beautiful hazel coloring of his eyes. He had sharp cheekbones and she liked the way his nose was the perfect size for his face and the full lips beneath it. And speaking of lips...did his have to be of such sensual perfection? And then she couldn’t miss the light beard that covered his lower jaw and how it enhanced those lips but didn’t hide the dimple in his chin.
Vaughn’s skin was a maple brown and he wore his thick black hair long. It wasn’t down past his shoulders like Kaegan Chambray’s, but it was long enough to touch his collar. To her the long and tousled hairstyle did much to highlight his French Creole ancestry.
The Creoles derived from free people of color from Africa, France and Spain, as well as other mixed-heritage descendants. Those blended races and cultures were a large population of Louisiana, and more specifically, New Orleans, Catalina Cove and other surrounding cities.
Sierra had to concur with the feminine whispers around town that Vaughn Miller was a very handsome man and a sharp dresser, yet she noted he had a definite rugged masculine appeal. Even dressed nicely in a suit, all you had to do was add a tricorne hat on his head and a loop earring in his ear and he would instantly become a dashing pirate. A look that no doubt would make his great-great-great-great-grandfather, the cove’s founder, Jean Lafitte, proud.
She knew six years ago he’d been sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Three months ago, articles appeared in numerous newspapers reporting on his exoneration and how those who were guilty had been brought to justice. He had been cleared of all charges.
“What’s the special for today?”
She blinked upon realizing she’d been standing there staring at him the entire time. Clearing her throat, she said, “Today’s special is the broccoli and cheese soup and it’s served with a half sandwich. Turkey or chicken.”
He smiled up at her and that smile made his features even more beguiling and clearly showed that dimple in his chin. “That sounds good. I’d like a bowl with a chicken sandwich.”
She wrote his order down on the pad and noticed his French accent. She recalled overhearing her parents say that his mother had been French and his father mixed French and African American, and that French had been the primary language spoken in the Miller household. She also remembered hearing while growing up he would spend his summers in France as well with his grandparents. That was probably the reason the accent was still strong after all this time.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Brown ale.”
Sierra nodded. “Okay, I’ll put in your order and get your ale.”
“Thanks.”
She turned and walked toward the kitchen. When she knew she was out of his sight and that of customers and staff, she fanned herself with the menu. Vaughn Miller had definitely made every hormone in her body sizzle.
VAUGHNWATCHEDTHEwoman leave, taken aback by how attracted he was to her. He didn’t particularly like the thought of that. He’d been attracted to women before but never with this much intensity and magnetism. The moment he had looked into her face, he’d been a goner and he sat there feeling stunned.
He was convinced it had to have been the beauty of her eyes that captivated him. They weren’t just brown, they were a shade that reminded him of chestnuts. And damn it, he felt like one roasting on an open fire.
He’d noticed her before from a distance when he’d come in to pick up his order, but this was the first time he’d seen her up close. The male in him definitely liked what he saw. The moment she’d appeared with the menu and he’d looked into her eyes, he’d instantly felt something, something he hadn’t felt in a long time—an intense physical attraction. There were some things that couldn’t be helped. He was a man after all, but still he found it strange that he’d been back in the cove over four years now and he hadn’t been this attracted to any woman before.
He forced his gaze away from her to look around. The place was busy. This was the first time he’d actually stayed and not done takeout. The only reason he was eating in now was that there was a zoning board meeting at city hall and there was no reason to go home only to leave an hour later.
His friend Kaegan Chambray had talked him into taking his place on the zoning board during the time Kaegan’s wife, Bryce, was due to deliver the couple’s first child. Although the little boy had been born six months ago, Kaegan had yet to reclaim his position on the board. Vaughn had a sneaking feeling Kaegan wouldn’t be doing so anytime soon since being a new father was keeping him busy.
In a way Vaughn didn’t mind since it gave him something to do other than going home to watch television before going to bed. He wasn’t all that hungry, so instead of dropping by the Witherspoon Café for a full meal, he’d decided a bowl of soup and a sandwich would hit the spot.
“Here’s your drink.”
He met the woman’s gaze as she placed the beer in front of him and thought she smelled good, and she had nice hands. He studied her face and saw how her hair framed her features like a pool of thick, glossy silk and how the dark brown coloring brought out the beauty of her eyes.
He cleared his throat and managed to say, “Thanks.”
“Your soup and sandwich will be ready in a minute.”
She walked off again and just like before, his gaze followed her every movement, appreciating the shape of her ass. There was something about the way she was dressed in a pretty blue silk blouse and tailored slacks that made him wonder when the last time was that he’d taken interest in what a woman was wearing.
He didn’t recall her from when he was growing up in the cove. But then, he figured there had to be a good six-year difference in their ages, which meant she was just probably starting junior high school when he’d been leaving for college.
“Here you are.”
A bowl of soup and a plate with a sandwich was put in front of him and he thanked her.
Just as she was about to walk away, he asked, “You’re the owner, right?”
She turned and smiled. Why did that smile send a spike of heat low in his gut? “Yes,” she said, extending her hand out to him. “I’m Sierra Crane.”
He took it, and immediately full awareness of the warmth of her skin almost made him groan in male appreciation. His voice was raspy when he answered, “And I’m Vaughn Miller.”
She nodded. “Yes, I know who you are.”
Did she? He didn’t really have to wonder how. Although no one had ever spoken to him directly about his past, he’d figured there had been discussion nonetheless. He hoped those same people now knew he’d been cleared. “And how do you know?” he asked.
“You probably don’t remember me, but I’m Preston Crane’s daughter.”
He might not remember her but he did remember Preston Crane. Years ago, Vaughn’s parents had owned the only gas station in town, as well as numerous others throughout Louisiana, Texas and Oklahoma. He recalled Preston Crane managed the one in the cove for years.
“I recall Preston, but I never knew his family,” Vaughn said.
“You wouldn’t have.”
He agreed with her. He wouldn’t have. His parents had frowned on mingling with the “hired help,” as his father referred to his employees. The reason Vaughn recalled Preston was because Vaughn would often accompany his father when he would check on the gas supply at that station.
“I remember that you graduated from high school the same year Vashti and Bryce did,” she said.
He nodded. “Yes, I did. When did you graduate?”
“Four years after you did.”
That meant she wasn’t as young as he’d thought. “I believe my sister might have graduated with you.”
“Yes, she did. Zara Miller was Miss Catalina Cove High our senior year. She was also captain of the cheerleading squad. She was popular and friendly.”
“Did you attend the school’s Holiday Homecoming a couple of years back?” he asked. Vaughn didn’t recall seeing her but then a number of people had returned for the event.
“Yes. That’s one of the reasons I moved back to the cove. Reid Lacroix’s offer of a low-interest loan was too good to pass up.”
He knew what she was referring to. As an incentive to get people to consider moving back to the cove, in memory of his son Julius, Reid had announced at the high school’s Holiday Homecoming banquet that he would be offering low-interest loans to anyone who would return to the cove to open a business. Of course, to maintain the integrity of the town, it had to be a Reid Lacroix–approved business.
When the bell on the door sounded, indicating another customer, she said, “Well, I hope you enjoy your meal, Vaughn.”
“Thanks, Sierra,” he said, liking her name. He watched her hurry off to greet the couple who had entered.
He continued watching her, wondering why he’d let her get under his skin. She was definitely beautiful, but he’d encountered a number of beautiful women since returning to the cove. As part of Reid’s executive team, he often traveled to attend social functions on Reid’s behalf. At those events, there were always women who came on to him. Therefore, he’d had no problem finding a woman willing to share his bed for a night or two.
There was something about Sierra Crane that presented a temptation he wasn’t ready for or even wanted. Since returning to the cove, he’d been a loner and had gotten used to it. However, there was no way he could deny his attraction to her, and wasn’t even sure he’d be able to ignore it. Even now he was thinking of a number of things he wouldn’t mind doing to her.
He noted she wasn’t wearing a ring and he was glad of that. He would hate to be having these kinds of thoughts about someone’s wife. But then her not wearing a ring didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t spoken for. He honestly couldn’t imagine a woman like her not belonging to some man. If she had graduated with Zara, that meant she was around thirty. Where had she lived and what had she been doing before moving back to the cove?
He began eating his soup and knew just the person who would know the answers to any questions he had about Ms. Crane. Sawyer Grisham. As a former FBI agent turned sheriff, Sawyer made it his business to know about everyone living in the cove, especially anyone who had moved back. It just so happened Vaughn would be seeing Sawyer tonight at the zoning board meeting. He’d never made inquiries about a woman before, but he had no problem accepting that there was a first time for everything.