Sugar Plum Serenade (Seawolf Beach #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

The gray-haired woman who’d been browsing for an hour held a bright green blouse up to her neck and studied her reflection in the full-length mirror outside the dressing room. “What do you think?”

Olive couldn’t say what she thought. That shade of green was hideous. It turned the woman’s skin a disturbing shade of yellow. “It’s very Christmasy,” she said in an easy, noncommittal tone of voice. “All that matters is what you think.”

The customer turned this way and that, humming “Jingle Bells” as she tried to make up her mind. She stopped humming and asked, not for the first time, “Where’s Dawn?”

Not here wasn’t enough of an answer for this woman. “My sister is pregnant.”

“I’m aware.”

“She’s due Christmas Eve, but the doctor has put her on bed rest.”

The plan had been to close the boutique a couple of days before Christmas and reopen mid-January, but Dawn had been frantic about losing almost an entire month of holiday sales. Little sister to the rescue. Dawn’s Radiance had been closed for a few days while Olive made plans to travel to Seawolf Beach earlier than originally planned. For the next two weeks she’d take care of Dawn’s business from ten until five Monday through Friday and ten till two on Saturday.

Retail was definitely not her calling. Sure, she dealt with her share of difficult clients in her event planning business, but they came at her one at a time, and rarely more than one a day. How did Dawn do it? Day after day, season after season. Her big sister never seemed to lose her temper, not even with the most difficult customer. Well, she didn’t admit to it, and on the occasions Olive had been in the boutique and seen her sister at work, Dawn had been amazingly calm. Olive had bitten her tongue more than once to hold back her instinctive responses, and it was just her first day.

The difficult customer for the moment handed the green blouse to Olive. “I can’t decide. Will you put this back for me?”

“I’ll be happy to hold it until the end of the day.”

A dropped shoulder; a sigh; a tsk. Then, “Dawn always holds pieces for me for several days, if I ask. Call her. Tell her Susan Merriweather…”

“I’ll hold the blouse until closing time Wednesday,” Olive interrupted. If she bothered her sister with every detail that came up, Dawn wouldn’t get any rest at all.

If her pregnant sister hadn’t been put on bed rest, Olive would’ve arrived in Seawolf Beach a couple of days before Christmas to see Dawn and her husband, Mike, and their two adorable but much too energetic daughters. By then their parents would be here, exhausted but happy from their cruise. If the baby came on time, Olive would be here to see the little boy delivered and home. Three kids! How on earth was Dawn going to handle three kids and a business? She already had her hands full. Four-year-old Ava was a redheaded ball of fire. Willow was seven, also redheaded but more subdued than her little sister. Sometimes it was the quiet ones you had to watch out for.

Taking care of the boutique for a couple of weeks was preferable to babysitting. Dawn had in-laws for that, thank goodness. Olive loved her nieces, she did, but they never stopped. They were always running, chattering, and jumping. Sometimes all at once.

The downtown Seawolf Beach boutique, Dawn’s Radiance, carried a variety of goods. Some were intended for tourists, but most were suitable for residents as well as visitors. Scented creams; fancy soaps; racks of pretty blouses; casual dresses as well as a few nicer ones; overpriced but very nice jeans; inexpensive jewelry and a colorful display of hats. South Mississippi in the summertime was sunny, and hats were required.

Not so much in December, when the majority of sales were Christmas presents. Jewelry, scarves, and knickknacks had made up the majority of sales today. Olive had only been tempted to kill three people. She hadn’t harmed anyone, at least not yet, but she had imagined braining one woman with a porcelain figurine, and she’d been tempted to trip another difficult customer as she walked by. One younger woman had been so annoying, it was a good thing Dawn didn’t keep a shotgun behind the counter. No, no, she didn’t really think that, she wouldn’t hurt a fly, but honestly, her sanity was hanging by a thread. People! Instead of buying what they wanted and leaving, they’d loitered. They’d complained. They’d argued about the prices over which, Olive informed them, she had no control.

In a perfect world she might strangle Susan Merriweather with the green blouse. If she were a violent person, which she was not. But she could imagine. There was no harm in that.

It might help matters if Olive loved Christmas the way other people seemed to. The season always put her on edge. It had been eight years since the accident that had ended her career as a dancer. She’d been performing in The Nutcracker. Not with a major company, just a local group in Birmingham, but at twenty-two she’d been ambitious, driven, and unfailingly optimistic. And good . Dammit, she’d been good. One devastating fall, and it was all gone.

Fall wasn’t exactly the right word. Stefan had dropped her. They’d performed that lift in the Sugar Plum pas de deux hundreds of times without so much as a wobble, but not that night. He’d dropped her; she’d landed in the worst possible way. Months of physical therapy had helped immensely, but hadn’t entirely restored the damage to her hip. She could walk, there was no need for a cane or painkillers, but she’d never dance professionally again.

It hadn’t helped matters at all that she and Stefan had been engaged at the time. After he’d dropped her, she couldn’t make herself trust him. Deep inside, she simply couldn’t allow trust. She’d tried, she really had. Even if she’d managed to forgive him, he’d looked at her differently after that night. If she couldn’t dance she was no longer the woman he’d fallen in love with. Whatever love they’d once shared had faded away.

Every time she heard music from The Nutcracker, which was everywhere this time of year, it was all she could do to keep from bolting.

These days she planned events in Birmingham and the surrounding areas. Weddings, reunions, company events, and lavish birthday parties. No Christmas parties. Not for her. Her business partner, Jessica, loved Christmas and was always happy to take on any holiday events. Olive worked very hard eleven months out of the year, but she took December off. Did she wallow? On occasion. She also visited her sister, their parents, or just rented a place at the beach or in the mountains. This year, she was on sister duty.

She could’ve stayed with Dawn and her family for the duration, but that house was already much too crowded. Dawn, Mike, the kids, in-laws who were there more often than not, two dogs… No. Just no . Olive had opted to rent a little house within walking distance of the boutique. She could even walk down to the beach on a pretty day, if she had the time. So far she had not, but then she’d spent the weekend settling into the new place.

She’d rented the two-bedroom, one-bath, blue house from Coltrane Hart, who owned a record shop and several rental houses in Seawolf Beach. He was an odd guy, but seemed nice enough. He talked to himself. Dawn had mentioned it, and Olive had seen for herself, for a short period of time. Everyone did that to some degree. She muttered to herself now and then, but with Colt it was different. Her time with Hart had been limited, she couldn’t say she knew him well at all, but he’d definitely been engaged in these conversations with himself.

His girlfriend was very sweet and perfectly normal. Anna didn’t seem at all concerned about Colt’s odd habit of talking to air. Anna had handled all the rental details, which suited Olive just fine.

Two weeks and she’d be done here. Just two weeks. Dawn would have a new baby or else she’d be about to pop. Both sets of grandparents would be around to help, and after a couple of days to pack up her belongings and celebrate Christmas, Olive could get back to Birmingham. Everything was in motion for a New Year’s Eve party in Chelsea, just south of Birmingham and not far from her condo. She’d made sure everything was in place before she left. There were a few more events on her calendar for early next year, but Jessica could handle any issues that came up.

Issues almost always came up.

With the boutique closed and locked up for the night, Olive walked. It was just a few blocks to her rental house on Jasmine Street, and she was bundled up in a new jacket she’d purchased at Dawn’s Radiance. Dawn had told her to take what she wanted, since she’d refused a salary for her time in Seawolf Beach, but she’d paid. Full price. Soon she was on the tree-lined street walking to the blue house, which stood out against the larger white and yellow homes. Her rental was the smallest on the block, but it wasn’t an eyesore by any means. It was quaint. Charming. And temporary.

Two weeks.

Olive stood on the small porch, keys in hand, ready for a night in. Maybe a movie on TV and one of the frozen dinners she’d purchased when she’d stocked up for her stay. She wanted peace and quiet, her feet up, maybe some cookies after that frozen dinner…

She jumped when a man’s voice interrupted her introspection.

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Olive Carson.”

Those were not alarming words, the tone of voice was easy and friendly, and he knew her name. Was that good or bad? She turned to face the man who stood in the yard.

Him .

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m just here for a few weeks.”

“Mike told me. Nice of you to help while Dawn is out of commission.”

She’d met Nate Tucker three times in the past few years, during quick trips to Seawolf Beach to see her sister. Christmas; a summer barbecue; during a fall music festival. He was one of those laid-back, easygoing guys with a charming smile and no apparent ambition. Nice body, a bit of stubble on a strong jaw, dark blond hair, blue eyes. She’d noticed those eyes before, in their brief interactions at Dawn’s house. They were lively, striking, mischievous. Women stared as he walked by, and with good reason. You might even say some swooned. She did not swoon. Ever. This guy looked like trouble walking .

“They’re family,” she said. “I’m happy to help.” Which was only kind of a lie. She loved her sister, but why was she having a baby at Christmas? Olive was usually able to ignore most of the holiday season, and enduring a couple days of forced holiday cheer with family was bearable. It didn’t last long. This year, however…

Tuck — everyone called him by a shortened version of his last name — jerked a thumb at the big white house next door. She’d walked past it on her way in and had admired the structure, and the fact that unlike the other houses on the street he had zero Christmas decorations on the exterior of his house. She hadn’t bothered with lights or wreaths, either. After all, she wouldn’t be here long. Anyone driving or walking past would peg them as two Scrooges, side by side.

“If you need anything while you’re here, give a shout and I’ll do what I can.”

She wouldn’t need anything from this too good-looking, overly-friendly man. He was just being polite. Men like this one were always taken by some woman or another. Or more than one. Unless something had changed since she’d seen him last, Tuck spent his nights in the bar he owned. The Magnolia, located on the other side of the highway, looked like a dive on the outside, but there must be some appeal. Whenever she drove past it was always packed. There was live music most nights, Mike had told her the one time he’d tried to convince her to go there.

No thanks.

“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” With that she turned away and inserted the key in the lock, twisted it, and opened the door. She immediately backed out onto the porch again, stumbling a little as she escaped the horror. “Oh my God, someone broke in!”

“What?” Tuck ran up the steps, passed her, and stuck his head inside. “What’s wrong? Everything looks fine to me. ”

Olive pointed past him to the offending object. “ That wasn’t here when I left this morning.”

Tuck looked down at her. She didn’t remember him being this tall, but then he’d never been quite this close before. “The Christmas tree?”

She nodded.

The offending tree was maybe four feet tall, and it sat on a side table in front of a small window in the living room. If she’d walked around the house instead of straight to the front door, she would’ve seen the tiny white lights reflecting off small gold balls through that window.

Tuck walked inside and straight to the tree. He picked up a piece of paper, which had been placed beneath the tree like an unwanted gift. He read the note silently, soon breaking into that easy smile of his. “Mike. He said the girls wanted to surprise you. They insisted Aunt Olive needs a Christmas tree.”

Aunt Olive did not need a Christmas tree.

If not for Willow and Ava, she’d take the tree down immediately, but it was likely they’d be in the house at some point while she was here. It would hurt their feelings if she removed this reminder of the holidays they’d gone to such pains to give her.

“Well, I am definitely surprised,” Olive said as she walked inside the house. She turned and looked up at her temporary neighbor. “Thanks. I guess I’m on edge today. Retail is new to me. I mean… people .”

He laughed. Dammit, it was a nice laugh. “I hear you. I deal with a different crowd, but the public is the public no matter where they are.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Would it be rude to shoo him out the door? With an audible “shoo” and a wave of her hands? Probably.

“You should come by The Magnolia tonight,” he said, and then he turned and walked toward the open front door. “We don’t serve anything fancy, but the chef makes a mean burger, and the fries are crispy and salty. After a day of retail, a glass of wine might be just the thing. A good local band will be there tonight playing seventies and eighties covers, mostly. They start at eight, if you’re interested.”

She was not. She planned to be in her pajamas well before eight.

“Maybe if you stop by, I can convince you to dance with me.”

There were a hundred ways she could say no, a hundred better ways, but she blurted out, “I don’t dance.”

Tuck turned in the doorway. “Never?”

“Never,” she whispered.

There was that easy smile again. “That’s a real shame. Maybe one of these days I can change your mind.” Before she could say no again, he added, “Come by any time, neighbor.”

The door closed, and Olive was left alone with a four-foot artificial tree with tiny white lights and gold ornaments. She studied it for a moment. The tree was pretty, with the lights and the sparkling gold. She hadn’t had a tree of her own for years. Not since the accident.

“Think of it as an artificial houseplant,” she said aloud, talking to herself as Colt Hart did. It didn’t matter. No one was here to see or hear. “With a little extra light, since it gets dark so early this time of year.”

Olive turned her back on the tree and slipped off her jacket as she walked toward the kitchen. She only had one other thing to say to herself.

“Bah, humbug.”

On a Monday night The Magnolia wasn’t packed to the rafters, but a nice mix of locals and tourists made for a decent crowd. Tuck left his full-time bartender, Ginny, in charge and his old faithful cook, Terrence, in the kitchen, doing his thing and doing it well. No one could say The Magnolia had an extensive menu, and anyone looking for a healthy meal would be sorely disappointed, but the burgers, fries, and a couple of specialty sandwiches sold well.

When the band started playing, Tuck closed himself in his office and listened. The sounds were muted, but he could hear well enough as he took care of some boring but necessary paperwork. The local band was good, they entertained the customers, but they needed a new lead singer.

Not that he’d tell them so.

While he took care of work that had become almost mindless, he thought about Olive Carson. Damn, she was pretty. Sleek dark hair; chocolate brown eyes; killer body. Gorgeous or not, something was off. Who was frightened of a little Christmas tree? He supposed it was the idea that someone had been in her house that spooked her, not the actual tree, but she had skirted around the thing like it was a coiled snake.

Maybe she disliked the holidays as much as he did.

He had good memories of Christmases as a child, but after his mother’s death there hadn’t been another good one. His dad’s younger brother, Houston, had taken care of him, that was true enough. He hadn’t thrown his thirteen-year-old nephew out to fend for himself. During those years Christmas Eve had been spent here, in The Magnolia, with lonely drunks and sad music on the jukebox for company. Merry Christmas, indeed.

Dwelling on the past was a waste of time. He’d rather think about his new neighbor than maudlin memories. He’d met her a time or two before, it wasn’t like she was entirely new , but on previous occasions they’d been in a crowd, at some kind of gathering at Mike Woodward’s house. Of course he’d noticed that Mike’s sister-in-law was pretty, but something about seeing her earlier today, going to her rescue even though she hadn’t needed rescue from a Christmas tree, struck him in a different way. Otherwise she wouldn’t be on his mind even now. He wouldn’t be sitting here thinking about her, bothered that she didn’t dance. Why not?

He shook off the questions. It sure as hell wasn’t any of his business.

Ginny knocked on the door and then opened it without waiting for a response. “I gotta run. My kid threw up all over the sitter, and she’s having a come apart. You good to cover the bar for a bit?”

“Sure.” They’d be closing in a couple hours, and there were times he actually liked the bartending part of the job. Working behind the bar was rarely boring, though it did get old after a while. As Olive had said… people.

As he approached the bar the band started a new song, one that had been requested by a drunk who sat at a table near the foot of the stage. “Merry Christmas, Baby.”

Tuck smiled, but under his breath he muttered, “Bah, humbug.”