Kiss & Tell by Alison Kent

Author:Alison Kent [Kent, Alison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781460819012
Google: w0NsnrhFzk8C
Amazon: 0373794339
Barnesnoble: 0373794339
Goodreads: 3369988
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2007-12-31T11:00:00+00:00

12

BARRY CHANCE, the Inn at Snow Falls’ shuttle driver, seemed to think Caleb was a tourist wanting a rundown on the resort and the town, when the only thing he wanted was to get to 1205 Second Avenue at eight o’clock on the nose.

From behind the wheel of the minivan warmed to near suffocation, Barry prattled on. “Twelve-oh-five Second Avenue. Isn’t that Miranda Kelly’s house?”

Miranda Kelly. Caleb stared out the side window into the darkness made even darker by the shadows cast by the thick evergreen forest on either side of the road.

Miranda Kelly. Nice, but not a name he could place in the context of freckles, green eyes and short auburn hair. Either he was thinking of someone else and he didn’t know her at all, or she’d changed both her name and her looks.

He settled back, bracing his arm across the seat. “You know her then?”

“Everyone in Mistletoe knows Miranda. But then everyone in Mistletoe knows everyone in Mistletoe.” That tickled the driver, and he cackled like a witch throwing newts’ eyes into a cauldron. “She owns Under the Mistletoe, the flower shop. But then you probably know that, being friends with her and all.”

“Sure,” Caleb said as if affirming Barry’s assumption, wondering what else the other man knew and might share without Caleb having to dig.

“Corinne Sparks works there with her.” Barry caught Caleb’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Her daughter Brenna’s that singer Ravyn Black, though you probably know that, too. She’s up at the inn. So’s Congressman Eagleton.”

Caleb figured he knew more about Teddy and the rock star than Barry did. But the rest was interesting. The sister at the high school. The mother at the flower shop. Maybe he could get to the secret of Brenna’s family estrangement through Miranda.

Miranda Kelly. Nope. He didn’t know the name.

“Here we are,” the driver announced moments later, pointing out a tiny bungalow that sat back from the road, its long front walk and driveway shoveled, its yard a blanket of snow. “Do you need me to come back for you later?”

Caleb glanced through the windshield toward the light diffused by the front window’s curtains. No way was he going to share his plans to stay the night with this gossip. “If Miranda doesn’t want to drive me back, I’ll call the inn.”

Barry flung his arm along the seat, turning to look at Caleb sitting behind him. “I get off at midnight, so don’t wait till the last minute or you’ll be stuck here all night.”

That was the idea.

“Thanks for the ride,” Caleb said, climbing out into the street and waving as the minivan pulled away. He made his way to the end of the walk that led to her house, studying the small Craftsman structure, the smoke rising from the chimney, the welcoming glow of the porch lamp.

Heading up the front walk, he imagined her inside, all warm and cozy as she fussed with dishes and food, setting the table, lighting candles, arranging flowers she’d brought home from her shop.

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