Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by Stacey Kennedy

  “Ten years later,” she said, placing her head back onto his shoulder.

  He slid his hand down her side, resting his touch on the warmth of her hip. “Ten years later is better than never.”

  A long pause followed, a heavy kind of silence between them. Until Penelope broke it. “If we’re admitting truths here, after my parents told me they were getting divorced, when things were bad, like, really, really bad, I wrote a letter to you.”

  He tucked a finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his, needing to see her eyes. “You did?”

  “I know, totally lame,” she said with a laugh. “But I was still seventeen years old, and we did stuff like that.”

  Now this interested him. “What did the letter say?”

  “Just that I wanted you to come and get me and bring me back to River Rock.” She gave him a cute smile. “Silly, right?”

  He released her to tip his head back a moment, the warmth of her naked flesh against his. So many what-ifs, what-could-have-beens. “You should have sent it.” He glanced at her again, finding her eyes right on him. “I would have come for you.”

  She snorted a laugh. “You would’ve probably thought I was stalking you.”

  He didn’t laugh, unsure why sudden tension filled him. Though as she snuggled her warmth against him, he got his answer. He dropped his lips to the top of her head, inhaling her sweet sugary scent, knowing full well, he wouldn’t have thought that. He would have gone after her.

  Chapter Seven

  “I’m not sure I can do this.”

  Darryl glanced down next to him at Penelope, finding her digging her heels in a little. Yeah, he got that. Coming to the pediatric wing of the hospital had been hard for him the first time too, and he had come out of choice. This was the second day of her community service, and he was desperately trying not to think about the fact that tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and soon she’d been gone again. But he wasn’t at the hospital to think about himself, or his problems that seemed minuscule in comparison to what the children faced there. “You can do this,” he told her gently, reaching for her hand. Her fingers tightened around his. He tried not to think about how good that felt. “Trust me, they are about a thousand times stronger than you or me.” He flicked his chin toward Tyson. “And he’ll totally make their day.”

  Penelope drew in a long, deep breath, glanced at the little girl in the hospital room, then gave a firm nod.

  He exhaled a little himself to gather the nervousness that always filled him at the hospital. It wasn’t the antiseptic scent stifling the air or the beeping machines; what tightened his gut was always hoping he didn’t do something to make a tough situation worse. They passed an empty bed in the hallway then entered the next door on the left. Tyson charged in, reindeer antlers attached to his head, and the little bells rang with every thunderous step forward.

  “A puppy,” the little girl with the blue beanie cap exclaimed.

  Tyson jumped on her bed, somehow always knowing to stay at the end, clear of any tubes.

  “Hi, Emily, I’m Darryl,” he said, letting go of Tyson’s leash so he could inch his way forward to the girl’s open arms. “This is Penelope.” Warmth filled his chest, erasing the earlier tightness. “And the guy kissing your nose is Tyson.”

  “He’s so cute,” the little girl said as Tyson licked her face, sending her giggling.

  “Thank you so much for bringing Tyson by,” the girl’s mother said from her seat next to the bed.

  Darryl noticed how little she looked in the bed, and how tired the mother appeared, but he refused to allow the sadness to fill his mind. That was a place he couldn’t go to anymore, not if he wanted to stay in his job. He could bring light to their day—and sometimes, that meant that day was a good day. “Tyson wouldn’t take no for answer. He’s here to pick up Emily’s letter for Santa.”

  The girl’s mother reached over on the table. “We’ve got that right here, all ready to go.”

  Emily petted Tyson’s head, and he dropped his chin down onto her legs, laying like a blanket over her. “Can we take a picture of him?” Emily asked with big bright blue eyes.

  Darryl smiled. “Tyson is yours for the next half hour. Take as many as you like.”

  “Really?” Emily beamed.

  Darryl nodded. “Santa’s treat to you for being such a good and brave girl this year.”

  Emily smiled then hugged Tyson around his neck.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Darryl noticed Penelope sidle up to him. “Actually,” she said, drawing everyone’s attention, “I think we can do one better. Can I borrow that paper there and pencil crayons?”

  “Oh, sure, of course,” Emily’s mother said, gathering the items and handing them to Penelope.

  Penelope scooted around to the other side of the bed, and sat on the very end, cross-legged, like she belonged there. And for whatever reason, that caused Emily to smile, making Darryl wonder if people were too careful around her. Penelope was anything but careful, probably exactly the type of person Emily would love to be around now.

  It suddenly occurred to him that because Penelope lived in the moment, maybe she understood Emily in ways Darryl simply couldn’t.

  “Tell me all about your favorite things,” Penelope said with a smile, the sketchbook up, hidden from Emily.

  Emily played with Tyson’s big floppy ears. “I love tacos and sunshine…oh, and the beach…how it’s squishy in your toes…”

  Darryl tried to keep listening to every word Emily said, but he became lost in how Penelope talked to the little girl. Yeah, Darryl was good with playing with kids. He’d always liked them, hoping to have a few ankle biters of his own one day. But talking and listening…that was something else entirely.

  And Penelope excelled in this area. She paid attention to the girl. Asking all the right questions. Garnering a bright sparkle in Emily’s eyes from the conversation.

  Ten minutes later, Penelope placed the pencil down next to her. “Okay, I think I’m done.” She spun the sketchbook around.

  Emily’s mom gasped, eyes filling up. “Oh, wow, Emmy, look how beautiful that is.”

  Penelope smiled at the mother, then asked Emily, “Did I do okay?”

  “Yeah, so cool.” Emily nodded with a wide smile.

  Darryl stood flabbergasted. Penelope had drawn a cartoon of Emily and Tyson at the beach eating tacos. He’d never met anyone who surprised him so much. Or who he’d gotten so wrong. He always thought life was very much black and white, but these days proved that theory wrong. Penelope lived in the gray, and he happened to like that spot very much. She wasn’t bringing him trouble like he thought, she was bringing him warm things that hit him straight in the chest; things he didn’t even know he was missing, and that he didn’t want to lose.

  Emily and her mom started talking about the drawing, so Darryl stepped forward, nudging Penelope’s shoulder, and gestured her out the door. He gave the mom a quick smile and mouthed, We’ll be right out here, leaving them with Tyson loving all over the girl. When Penelope finally joined him in the hallway, he asked, “You draw?”

  She shrugged. “I became a doodle expert in high school, since you know…I was terrible at school.”

  Darryl chuckled. “Luckily for Emily, that was the perfect skill to have today.”

  She snorted a laugh. “If I could only tell my dad now, then he wouldn’t think that my entire education was wasted.”

  She sounded flippant, but Darryl assumed there was some truth in there too. “Maybe you should tell him what you’ve been doing with your time here.”

  “Maybe.” She smiled.

  Bullshit. He could sniff that lie out easily. She wasn’t going to tell her dad shit, and Darryl knew enough about her family that he imagined they wouldn’t care anyway. They didn’t even seem to see Penelope at all from what she’d told him.

  “So,” she said, changing the subject, “why are we out here?”

  He allowed the shift and moved down the hallway to the chai
rs. “I always leave for a little while.” He took a seat.

  She dropped down next to him. “Why?”

  “Because we’re strangers to Emily and her mom.” He crossed his arms, settling back into the cold, hard chair. “They’ll be more guarded if we’re in there with Tyson. And he’s good for the kid. Good for the mom too.”

  Penelope watched him a moment then closed the distance and threw her arms around him so tight that it completely caught him off guard. It’d been so long since a woman offered affection. It didn’t take him long to catch up and return the embrace. The aroma of her vanilla-scented shampoo filled his nostrils as he dropped his head into her neck. And when she leaned away, he didn’t want her to let go. “What was that for?” he asked.

  “Just giving you something you deserve.” She stared into the room across from them and dropped her hand onto his thigh, awakening a part of him that shouldn’t be stirring in this place. “It feels weird not bringing Christmas gifts or something.” She turned to him, gaze concerned. “Shouldn’t we have brought something?”

  Darryl shook his head. “The mayor comes by on Christmas Day with gifts,” he explained, taking her hand to bring her touch closer to his knee. “That’s why I’m here to make sure we get those gifts right. Don’t want any mistakes.”

  “Yeah, no kidding.” She sat back and watched Emily and her mother through the window, laughing and doting on Ty, who ate up everything minute, his eyes bright, tongue wagging out the side of his mouth. “You wouldn’t know, would you?”

  Darryl glanced sideways. “Know what?”

  “That Emily is sick,” Penelope said softly, squeezing his fingers tight. “They look happy.”

  “I imagine they are happy,” he said.

  “I wonder how that can that be possible?” Penelope asked, eyebrows drawn tight.

  Darryl drew in a long deep breath before addressing her. “From being a cop, I’ve learned there are good moments within the bad. I imagine the families here probably hang on to those good moments more than people who haven’t experienced illness or tragedy.”

  Penelope’s face suddenly become unreadable, but before he could check in on that, Tyson whined. That usually meant that Emily was getting tired or antsy, and Tyson knew it.

  Darryl rose. “Time to move on.”

  He took a step forward when Penelope caught his hand, pulling him back. “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  She stepped closer. Her eyes were watery. “For making me do this.”

  He cupped her face and closed the rest of the distance. “I think I had my own motivation for suggesting the community service, and we both know exactly what that was.” More time together.

  She nodded and smiled.

  He tucked her hair behind her ear, loving the silkiness of the soft strands along with how she leaned into him. “That said,” he added, “you bought out the bakery, you drew the picture. That’s all you, I did none of that. Don’t forget that.”

  She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Better stop all those compliments. I might get a big head.” She strode away laughing and entered the room again.

  He stared after her. No, she wouldn’t. If only she did think more of herself, maybe she’d take a chance on something real.

  The hospital visit lasted the remainder of the day, and by the time Darryl dropped Penelope off at her cousins’ house, her hand hurt from all the drawings she’d done. Not that she cared; she would’ve done more if anyone needed her to. When they arrived home, Maisie insisted Darryl stay for dinner, and after a reassuring look from Penelope, he agreed. Which was how they ended up at the brewery.

  The barn had been stained in a rich cherry color. The beams were left open, with the hay loft still there at the back of the barn, now holding empty kegs with the Three Chicks logo on the front. And beneath the hay loft were large refrigerators.

  When they entered, Darryl had made a purely masculine sound that came from deep in his chest. The sound was one of total delight. He strode down the cement floors between the large brewing tanks, his hands stuffed in his pockets, as if he was afraid he’d dive in for a drink.

  Penelope smiled, and after today, that felt good. Because even she was feeling things she couldn’t quite put a finger on.

  “A man could get thirsty in here,” Darryl eventually said, turning around to her.

  Penelope snorted a laugh. “I could get into a lot of trouble in here.”

  He reached for her, his smile a mix of heat and tenderness. “I’m beginning to enjoy the trouble you bring.”

  Sure, it was easy to hope he meant that, but the truth was, Penelope liked a bit of trouble and there would be no apologizing for it. “That’s only because I’m not here very long, and I’m on my best behavior.”

  “And why is that exactly?” he asked, taking her hand and turning around the corner to walk down the other aisle in the brewery. “Why is the wild girl who lives life on her terms, skating drunk on fountains, suddenly on her best behavior?”

  “For my cousins.”

  He cocked his head and chuckled. “You do know that I’m trained in spotting a lie.”

  “Great.” She rolled her eyes. “What are you now, a mind reader?”

  He took hold of her chin, his eyes hardening. “Don’t deflect.”

  “Well, that cop look is effective, I’ll give you that,” she said with a shake of her head to remove his hand.

  “Why do you think I did it?” He grinned, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “But indulge me anyway. What’s the real reason?”

  She inhaled sharply and strode forward ahead of him now, not really sure how much she wanted to tell him. “I’m just trying to hit the nice list this year, that’s all.” She looked over her shoulder, and Darryl studied her carefully. Too carefully, in fact. She glanced ahead of her again and shrugged a little. “Besides, I know my cousins think I’m this big drinker because I work as a bartender. Maybe I used to be, but that’s not really me anymore. I want them to see me for…me.”

  “Then what happened at the fountain?” he called out behind her.

  Her throat tightened. He suddenly had her hand in his and tugged him into her. His warm gaze met hers, and it was impossible not to answer him. “It was just this place. It’s so…friendly and Christmas-y…and family-oriented.” She paused. Then forced the words out. “The first few days here were hard. I felt outside of everything. Apart from everyone. It had all gotten to be too much. It’s better now, though.”

  “Ah, I see,” he said, with no judgment in his eyes.

  He kept her hand in his as they headed back down the aisle toward the double barn doors, with the tasting room off to the left.

  Just as she reached for the door, he stopped her, turning her into all his warmth and strength. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you for not only yesterday but today too.”

  Her eyes stung. “Geez, they should just call this town, River Rock, the place where people are so nice they make you want to cry.”

  He barked a loud laugh then dipped his chin. “Or maybe River Rock, the place where you finally hear the things you should’ve always heard.” He didn’t wait for an answer; instead, he kissed her, a warm and sweet kiss that made her fingers and toes and other parts of her tingle.

  When he broke the kiss, he opened the door, leading her outside into the brisk chilly night air.

  The moment they went out the door, a snowball flew toward them and hit Darryl in the thigh.

  “Ha. Ha. Got you,” Mason squealed.

  “Oh, it’s so on,” Darryl said, dropping Penelope’s hand to chase after a now screaming Mason.

  Penelope laughed, tucking her hands into her coat pockets then making her way back into the house. She hung her coat on the hook then ventured into the living room and stared out the window, watching Darryl toss a tiny snowball Mason’s way which hit him in the boot. He laughed then threw another snowball Darryl’s way. The kid had an arm.

  “You o
kay?”

  Penelope sighed and glanced over her shoulder, finding Maisie behind her. “Yes. No.” She shook her head. “I don’t know, to be honest.”

  Maisie gave a pouty look then sidled in next to her, wrapping an arm around Penelope. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. No one should look as tangled up as you do right now.”

  Yeah, tangled up, that explained it. “We went to the hospital today. Darryl’s dog picked up all the kids’ letters to Santa there.”

  “Ugh.” Maisie’s arm tightened. “Well, that’s heart-wrenching.”

  “Incredibly.” Penelope dropped her head against Maisie’s, staring off at the snow fluttering down from the evergreen tree. “More than anything, being there made me feel like an asshole.”

  “An asshole?”

  Penelope waited for the lump in her throat to ease up before she explained, “I’ve got this whole life where all I do is run from one place to the next. I’m not doing anything that matters. And here are all these little kids that would give anything for a week, another day. Hell, maybe even another hour.” Her voice cracked, emotion she’d been fighting flooding her. She quickly wiped away a tear. “So, yeah, I felt like an asshole who had the only thing anyone in that hospital wanted—more time.”

  Maisie hugged Penelope’s arm, squeezing tight. “I can’t imagine any of that was easy today, but I’m sure that big lug Tyson made the kiddies smile.”

  “A lot, actually,” Penelope said, spotting Darryl running across the yard then tucking himself behind one of the trees, a smile on his face. Penelope couldn’t help but wonder if some of this was to shake what he saw today too. “Darryl’s a real sweetheart, isn’t he?”

  Maisie sighed, stepping away to sit on the window frame. “Yeah, he changed a little after his divorce, but honestly, I think it was for the better. He seems to have come out of his shell more; he does more for the community and stuff now.”

  Penelope kinda got that. Hell, she’d been buying treats and drawing pictures, and she knew why. She was trying to prove to herself she was better than her parents made her out to be, maybe she just didn’t want to admit that. Now thinking it over, she began to wonder if Darryl’s motivation sat somewhere between trying to put on a good face after the pain of a failed marriage and proving to himself that he was nothing like his deadbeat dad.