Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by Stacey Kennedy

  A good twenty years before Darryl had become a cop, the River Rock police station had taken ownership of the old courthouse on Main Street with its big white columns outside. Inside the station, the space was modernized with the reception desk at the front near the waiting room. A thin hallway down the left side led to a larger room with beehive desks, some with computers on top, others with typewriters.

  When he took a seat at the desk, his captain said from somewhere behind Darryl, “Update on Penelope Carter.”

  The captain sidled up next to the desk. He was a broody guy, big in the shoulders, and in the center, and his dark eyes matched his typically hard expression.

  “Community service during the holiday events,” Darryl responded.

  “That’ll do.” The captain went to turn away when he suddenly froze. “Wilson,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Let’s not make it a habit of drooling over the women we take into custody. Remember everyone is looking at you for your promotion.”

  Darryl sat back in his seat and arched an eyebrow.

  “Ms. Carter wasn’t the only one seen on that video,” the captain pointed out.

  It was a rare thing to see amusement in the captain’s eyes. Even rarer to see his shoulder’s shaking with his laughter as he strode away. Great. The shock at seeing Penelope again, the heat he’d felt for her all those years ago that had taken his damn breath away, returned with a vengeance, and having her close again had brought unexpected intensity.

  He didn’t need to see the video to know that happened. He’d been there. Experienced it himself.

  He put his mind back onto his work and continued typing up the report on Penelope Carter. A 911 call had been made, and Darryl had to write up the report, detailing her community service work, no matter that he didn’t want her name anywhere near a police report. And there was no fooling nothing, she remained as much of a problem today as she had the second he saw her. Once, he blew his long-awaited promotion by getting drunk and ending up in a bar fight that placed himself at the center of the town’s gossip for weeks. That couldn’t happen again. Penelope was the type of girl who skated drunk on fountains. Fun, but not exactly good for his reputation. The higher ups were watching him. He wouldn’t regret his night with Penelope. He simply needed it to be only a one-time thing. Soon, she’d leave. Life would go back to normal. He could deal with the loneliness if he had his job. When everything went south with his wife, he always had his work and the respect of the people of the town. He didn’t want to sacrifice either.

  This year, he’d taken over one of the retiree’s positions in the Christmas events to prove he was the right guy for the job. He wanted strictly a day shift to have something that resembled a life, and to get that, he needed the promotion to police sergeant.

  When he hit enter to type on the next line, a deep voice said, “Who’s the sexy skater?” Jack Fitzpatrick, Natalie’s brother and Darryl’s long-time buddy, grabbed the chair from the desk next to him and twirled it around, sitting on it backward.

  “She’s the cousin of the Carter sisters,” Darryl replied, using his two index fingers to terribly type out the report.

  “Ah, so it is Penelope Carter.”

  Darryl didn’t know what Jack meant by that. He didn’t care either. What he did care about was the fact that perhaps the whole station had heard about the video. Ignoring the amusement in his friend’s light brown eyes, he asked, “How’d you hear about the video?”

  “Natalie, actually.”

  Darryl stopped typing and glanced sideways at his ex-brother-in-law. “She called you?”

  “I think you made her day.” Jack smiled, thrusting his fingers through his wild brown hair. “Her friend shared the video on Facebook, and she told me that you looked cozy.” Jack leaned forward, his eyes all but twinkling. “A little recon later, she discovered the woman was Penelope Carter, the girl you had a crush on during camp one summer.”

  At that, Darryl froze. “I don’t remember ever telling Nat about Penelope.”

  “In passing, she said.” Jack shrugged. “She seemed to know who she was and got all excited. You know how she talks fast and shit.”

  Darryl shook his head, focusing back on the typewriter, and his job. “She needs to stop worrying about me.” He began typing again slowly, ensuring he didn’t make any mistakes. “Tell her that I’m fine, and that it’s weird for an ex-wife to worry about their ex-husband’s love life.”

  Jack cupped Darryl’s shoulder. “Don’t think she’ll stop that until you marry again.”

  Most times, ex-spouses had a level of resentment, but that didn’t exist between him and Natalie. He loved her in the most platonic way. They stopped having sex way before they broke up, and because of that, a friendship had been borne that made Darryl want her to be happy. Truly happy. Not just half-assing it through life. He’d seen his mother go through hell, never demanding her own happiness. He wouldn’t do that to any woman. Especially not a woman that cared about him. “Tell Nat that I’m not with Penelope. She’s leaving after Christmas.”

  “But you’re sleeping with her.”

  Darryl glanced sideways and arched an eyebrow. “Why again is this any of your business?”

  Jack paused as a couple of cops strode by and then he grinned. “Because I’m part of the gossip train now and need the goods or my sister will slaughter me.”

  “Pussy.” Darryl laughed, shaking his head and starting to type again. “Are you heading out to Wisconsin tonight for the holidays?”

  “Yeah, Heather’s packing up the kids now, and we leave in a few hours.” Jack and Heather had two cute little ones, a girl and a boy, twenty-one months apart.

  “Nice. Say hello to everyone for me.” Darryl read what he’d already typed: PENELOPE CARTER has agreed to ten hours of community service for the inconvenience of the public intoxication.

  “So, give me something.” Jack slapped a hand down on the desk. “Nat’s going to ask all about this reunion with Penelope.”

  Even to Darryl, the situation with Natalie could, at times, seem strange. But the truth was, Darryl knew Natalie felt guilty that she had moved on. She was two months pregnant with her new boyfriend’s baby, and Darryl was alone.

  He was good with alone.

  Well, maybe he had been good with the alone before last night. The type of alone that didn’t include the greatest sex of his life. The thought of going back to life that didn’t include sex wasn’t particularly appealing.

  He knew Jack wouldn’t quit unless he gave him something, so he turned to his best childhood friend. “Unless you want to tell Nat that last night and this morning, I had more sex than we had in the last four years of our marriage, and that the sex was hot as shit, you should tell her there’s nothing going on with me and Penelope.”

  Jack barked a laugh. “Poor Penelope. Surprised she didn’t get sick of you after the first time.” He paused, the amusement fading. “There’s really nothing there anymore?”

  Jack had been the only one Darryl had told Penelope. After Nat had left and it became clear that his ex-brother-in-law wasn’t going to leave him alone about finding a better match, he’d told Jack about ‘the one that got away’. He knew that Darryl risked kissing Penelope, and maybe losing his job, all because he couldn’t help himself. He knew that when Penelope left, Darryl blamed himself, thinking he scared her away. And Jack had been the guy that Darryl had talked to when he wondered what she was doing in her life. “All that is happening is all that can. She leaves the day after Christmas.”

  “You can’t convince her to stay?”

  “Doubt it would be a good idea.” Darryl pulled the report out of the typewriter, giving it a look over, then added, “She’s a handful.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” Jack laughed.

  “When you’re up for a promotion and everyone is looking at you, yeah, that’s a bad thing.” Darryl spun his chair to face Jack fully. “It is what it is, then it will end. If you gotta tell Nat anything, tell her I
am fine.” He wasn’t sure how many more times he had to say that for everyone to start believing him. Maybe it was because he wasn’t saying I am happy, but he was never a liar.

  “It’s a pity Penelope’s not staying longer,” Jack said and then rose, tucking the chair back under the table. “Probably for the best, though. Don’t think she could handle how much you stink in the summer.”

  Darryl snorted. But getting razzed by Jack meant that Jack was happy for him in his weird way. “Merry Christmas, dipshit.”

  Jack squeezed his shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Casanova.”

  Chapter Five

  “Oh, hell no,” Penelope sputtered, glaring down at the spread for the Christmas breakfast at the River Rock’s high school gymnasium the next morning. Scrambled eggs that looked over-scrambled were in big slow cookers on the long table. Sausages that may or may not be made of real meat, toast that had burnt spots, and even the hot chocolate packages that Darryl had given her at his place, lay resting for the person who quite possibly hadn’t had a real cooked breakfast in years.

  “Problem?” Darryl asked.

  She peeled her gaze away from the sorry excuse of a community breakfast to Darryl’s warm—albeit confused—eyes. When he’d picked her up this morning, she discovered that Darryl looked real good in a Santa Claus hat. “Yes, there is a major problem,” she said, pointing to the table. “You call this a Christmas breakfast?”

  He surveyed the food set out, wearing a plaid button-down overtop a gray shirt, a frown pulling on the sides of his mouth. “It’s all that we’ve got in the budget.” He lifted his gaze to hers again with an arched brow. “And sadly, I wouldn’t say anyone on the force is much of a chef.”

  Okay, that was a problem. She was a terrible cook too.

  She examined the crowd around her entering the gym, taking a spot at the long tables with plastic chairs set up. When Darryl picked her up this morning, he explained that most of the people they’d be feeding today were having hard times, and yet, all she saw was beaming smiles.

  Within those smiles, an idea began to form. She’d promised Clara she wouldn’t do anything stupid. And yet…the fountain. Maybe she could fix her wrongs by doing something right. “Come with me.” She took Darryl’s hand then grabbed her Santa Claus hat that she’d been originally reluctant to put on and headed for the gymnasium’s door.

  Darryl matched her speed, keeping hold of her hand. “Plan on telling me where we’re going?”

  “Nope.”

  They quickly made it outside, and the brisk wind hit her face, taking her breath away. She released Darryl’s hand to wrap her arms around her sweater, regretting she hadn’t grabbed her jacket on the way out the door. She hurried across the street, passing beneath the big snowflake lights hung up on the lamppost. River Rock did one thing well. They knew how to Christmas. The storefronts had a competition every year to win the esteemed Downtown Christmas River Rock award, or so Maisie had told Penelope when she noticed the decorated town on her first day there. The effort River Rock’s store owners made for a gorgeous Christmas village with garland and lights added so much cheer to the town that the Grinch would’ve smiled.

  One block down, Penelope entered Snowy Mountain Bakery and was hit with the overwhelming aroma of sugar and warmed bread. She rubbed her arms, trying to warm up, moving toward the all-glass counter with the treats inside.

  Darryl shut the door behind him, sending the chime above the door to ring, looking like he wasn’t cold at all. Of course, he had enough muscles to keep him going all winter long. When he stopped in next to her, he frowned. “We don’t have the money for this.”

  “Maybe the police department doesn’t, but I do.” Or her father did. He deposited money into her account he set up for her every Christmas, but she never spent the money. It always felt like a terrible apology she never wanted. But if she could help people while also making her cousins look good, that was a total win-win in her books. She hurried to the counter, where a cute-as-a-button elderly lady was working behind the counter with a Christmas apron on and Susan written in calligraphy on the front. “Mornin’,” Penelope said, without missing a beat. “I’ll take it all.”

  The women blinked. “Pardon me, dear?”

  “All this yumminess.” Penelope waved out at the glass displays. “I’ll take it all.” She reached into her back pocket and grabbed the bank card from her wallet. “Oh, and everything in the back if you’ve got more.”

  “Um…” The lady blinked rapidly, her purplish curls bouncing atop her head while she twisted and turned. “My dear, I’m not even sure what this would all cost. Annie?” she called toward the back room.

  Annie, appearing to be in her early forties, with the same soft brown eyes as Susan, came out of the backroom with a bright smile and a matching Christmas apron. “Good morning.”

  “Hi.” Penelope smiled.

  “This kind lady—” The woman looked back at Penelope. “Sorry, dear, what was your name?”

  “Penelope Carter.”

  Susan smiled then said to Annie, “Penelope would like to buy everything we’ve got. Can you work that out?”

  “Really?” Annie asked with wide eyes.

  “Really.” Penelope nodded, feeling good about being good, which was a rarity.

  “Christmas surprises are all around, then.” Annie laughed, grabbing a notepad and a pen and following Susan to the far side of the glass display where the most delicious muffins waited.

  “This isn’t going to be cheap,” Darryl said.

  “I know.” Penelope turned around, finding Darryl watching her with a perplexed expression and his hands shoved in the pockets of his Levi’s. “But it’s money that I never touch, so it doesn’t matter.”

  One brow winged up. “Let me understand this: You’ve got money sitting around and you choose to spend that money on baked goods?”

  Most times she questioned her own sanity. “It’s money that my dad puts into a bank account he created for me,” she explained, fully aware of the tightness filling her throat at that admission. “I like to call it his ‘guilt money’.”

  Darryl’s head cocked, emotion filling his gaze.

  She looked away, trying not to get too lost in the warmth in their depths. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t even know how much is in there.” To tell the truth, or not tell the truth? The old version of herself would’ve lied through her teeth, not wanting anyone to see the real her. She liked the way Darryl spoke openly about his life. He hid nothing. That had to feel good. Back in control of her emotions, she faced him. “I promised Clara that I wouldn’t do anything stupid while I was here. You know, with them trying to make the brewery a success, and well…”

  “The fountain,” he offered with a grin.

  “The fountain.” She smiled. “So, this is a good thing, right? Better food for the people of River Rock. I’m a Carter so that will look good on the family.” She paused as Annie finished emptying the first glass cabinet and had moved onto the next, before addressing Darryl again. “I figure the more good I do before Clara finds out I’m on YouTube—because she’s legit going to murder me—the better.”

  Darryl cocked his head, studying her intently like she was a curious puzzle.

  “What?”

  He started at her intently. “I don’t think you realize what this gesture will do.”

  Doing good things meant happy people, didn’t it? “What do you mean?”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled up against his warmth. He dropped his chin and his mouth came close to hers, his minty breath brushing across her lips. “The people of River Rock are going to fall madly and hopelessly in love with you.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” she asked, pressing her arms against his strong chest, lost in those warm eyes.

  His mouth twitched. “Depends on how much you like to be loved.”

  She pondered. Then the truth fell from her mouth. “You know what, being loved too much has got to be a whole lot better than di
sappointing people all the time.”

  “You’re right, it does.” He lifted his hand to her face, then, his fingers gently sliding across her cheek. “You’re a good woman, Penelope. Don’t let anyone make you believe otherwise.”

  Her heart squeezed, threatening to turn into mush. Okay, sure, she hadn’t been doing all this for someone to tell her that she didn’t suck. But she liked hearing his praise. “Now, don’t you go make me cry, Darryl Wilson. That’s not very Christmas-y at all.”

  He slowly shook his head. “Wouldn’t dare think of it.”

  “Besides, I’m doing this to right an already made wrong,” she pointed out. “Not the noblest of causes.”

  He hesitated then nodded, like he couldn’t be swayed to believe otherwise. “A good cause, nonetheless.”

  “Says the cop who dragged my drunk ass off a fountain,” she said, snort laughing.

  His heated gaze scanned her lips before returning to her eyes again. That intense regard was something she remembered over the years. When Darryl looked at anything, he really looked, especially when that thing was a person. She’d never met anyone after him that seemed to give her so much attention. Maybe that’s what made Darryl a good cop. He cared deeply. He paid attention. He saw the little things others missed.

  Whatever it was, she liked that about him. In a sea of feeling like no one understood her, and even sometimes her not understanding herself, there was Darryl. A very good man who thought she was good too, no matter what she’d done.

  “You know,” he said, eventually breaking the silence. “I have seen people at their worst. I’ve seen people do unthinkable things. You might be trouble—that goes without saying—but you don’t have a bad bone in you.” His strength, his heat, it all engulfed her when he wrapped his arms around her tight. “Regardless that you’re doing this for a reason, you thought of it. Give yourself some credit, Penelope.”