Her Wish Before Christmas (Holiday Hearts) by Kimberly Quinton Page A

rooms full of tables covered in crisp white tablecloths and a bud vase with a fresh flower in each. The plain cream walls had been covered with a collection of paintings the owners added to every year. All with the same theme—Italian countryside or still lifes of flowers and food. The quality of the paintings ranged from kids’ art projects to gallery-worthy local artists desperate for a venue. Some were even for sale. The atmosphere was warm and comforting, and the food had been a local favorite for over fifty years.
    The young hostess standing at the podium held a menu in her hand and smiled. Genny couldn’t move. The smell of garlic and herbs, mingled with the aged scent of the wood paneling, enticed memories to surface. She let them pass as if catching up with an old friend where each story leads to another forgotten one.
    Lola’s had been her family’s go-to place for everything from celebrations to game nights to prom dates. And she and Connor had more dates there than anywhere. Why hadn’t she been back since she’d been in town? This was why. Waves of unfiltered memories washed through her as every pent-up emotion she’d been struggling to rein in threatened to break free. Several deep breaths later, she sent an embarrassed nod to the hostess, who was looking at her like she was worried Genny was about to puke or pass out.
    “I’m fine. I’m meeting someone.” Her voice struggled to work around the lump in her throat.
    “Dr. O’Rourke?”
    Dr. O’Rourke? “Yes. Is he here?”
    “This way please.”
    She followed the girl through the restaurant to one of the back rooms where Connor sat at the only occupied table. He stood as they got closer. His mouth split into a wide smile that held a hint of nervousness, devastating to her already on edge nerves. Clasping shaking fingers around the strap of her purse, she approached the table. Should I hug him? Give him a peck on the cheek? Awkward worry had her questioning her every move. The hostess stepped aside and all thought flew out of her head when Connor embraced her in a quick hug. His spice and woods scent encircled her, calming her.
    “Thank you for coming.” His simple words against her ear stoked a deep hunger. He released her to pull a chair out for her. Connor sat next to her instead of across from her, close enough his knee brushed hers under the table.
    She seemed to have no defense against him inching his way into her heart one sweet gesture at a time.
    Thankfully the hostess had left them alone. She was sure her face was flaming red from the heat of her skin and her thoughts. Her heart pounded against her lungs, requiring several more deep breaths to bring her nervousness under control. Connor was either oblivious or was taking great pains to give her a minute, keeping his interest glued to the menu while she fidgeted in her seat.
    Genny took a sip of water, the cold liquid sliding down and pooling in her stomach when his gaze caught hers. Not even ice water could cool the desire building a bonfire in her belly.
    “I mean it. Thank you for coming. I half expected you wouldn’t,” he said, eyes dancing with a light she couldn’t quite name.
    “We can’t avoid each other. Besides. I wanted to come.” Damn, didn’t mean to blurt that out . His eyes widened a second before narrowing, roaming over every inch of her visible above the table.
    Ordering their food offered her a respite from the intensity of her tangled-up emotions. Just go with it and see what happens . Genny willed herself to loosen up and enjoy reconnecting with an old friend. Conversation flowed easy and smooth. The pizza was as good as remembered, and she was able to relax enough to laugh at some of his stories of being a single dad. His attention on her was mesmerizing. She didn’t even pause when he suggested dessert.
    “Their tiramisu is even better than it used to be.” She licked the last of the espresso-laced cream from her fork and leaned back in her chair.