Mistletoes and Apple Pie

by Lynn Hagen

  

  Maple Grove 27

  Mistletoes and Apple Pie

  [Siren Publishing: The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection: Erotic Romance, Contemporary, Alternative, Paranormal, Shape-shifters, Romantic Suspense, MM, HEA]

  Payton loathed Christmas. He wasn’t a scrooge, but try growing up with his parents, who argued nonstop, and the holidays were torture. Add to the fact that he’d just been released from the hospital because he was shot twice in the back, and Christmas could kick dirt. When his cat gets trapped in a brick tomb, Payton is desperate to get him out. He just hadn’t expected Mr. Hottie to come to the rescue or for the hunk to save his Christmas spirit.

  Miller had no idea he would find his mate when he went on a late-night emergency call. He just didn’t expect his mate to be so stubborn. Payton refused to get into the holiday cheer, and worse, he and his cousin witness a murder. Now Miller’s only priority is to keep Payton safe, while trying to convince him that Christmas can be a wondrous time of year.

  Length: 31,000 words

  MISTLETOES AND APPLE PIE

  Maple Grove 27

  Lynn Hagen

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  Mistletoes and Apple Pie

  Copyright © 2020 by Lynn Hagen

  ISBN: 978-1-64637-321-5

  First Publication: December 2020

  Cover design by Emma Nicole

  All art and logo copyright © 2020 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at legal@sirenbookstrand.com

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lynn Hagen loves writing about the somewhat flawed, but lovable. She also loves a hero who can see past all the rough edges to find the shining diamond of a beautiful heart.

  You can find her on any given day curled up with her laptop and a cup of hot java, letting the next set of characters tell their story.

  For all titles by Lynn Hagen, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/lynn-hagen

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  MISTLETOES AND APPLE PIE

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  MISTLETOES AND APPLE PIE

  Maple Grove 27

  LYNN HAGEN

  Copyright © 2020

  Chapter One

  “I look like god-awful hell,” Payton said to Bilbo Baggins, who sat on the closed toilet seat grooming his black fur, completely ignoring him. “You’re supposed to tell me I look fabulous, not sit there trying to lick your own balls.”

  Bilbo meowed and then hopped down, slinking from the room.

  “No, I’m not jealous that I can’t do that, so don’t even go there,” Payton hollered at his cat, who had disappeared into the hallway.

  Payton ran his fingers over his healing scars, amazed he’d survived the shooting. It had been a damn miracle, and while in the hospital, still recovering, he had vowed to let Pyke go and move on with his life.

  No more stalking his ex-boyfriend. Besides, Pyke was in love with his new honey, and to be honest, Payton liked Nester. But where did that leave him? Alone, as usual. And if he were totally honest with himself, he’d been a crappy boyfriend, anyway.

  “That no longer matters,” he said to his reflection. “I’m turning over a new leaf. I was given a second chance, and I’m not going to blow it.”

  Payton buttoned his shirt when he heard the doorbell ring. It was either the guys he’d hired to fix his back steps or his cousin. When he exited the bathroom, Bilbo ran in front of him, making Payton nearly trip over the damn cat.

  “Stop trying to kill me, Bilbo. I cut you out of my will, so your attempts are futile.” Payton peeked past the curtain and saw a stranger standing there.

  It had to be the guy to fix his steps. Payton might have felt a new lease on life, but he’d become cautious since the shooting. He put the chain on his door before he opened it a crack. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Russell Hughes,” the tall, lean guy with pretty gray eyes said. “We talked on the phone about your steps.”

  “Can I see some ID?” Dublin McLeay, the guy who had shot him twice, was dead, but Payton was still paranoid that some of Dublin’s men might come after him to finish the job.

  There was no reason behind his fear, but when you shook hands with the Grim Reaper and lived to tell about it, nothing in your head made sense.

  Russell showed Payton his driver’s license and held out his business card. It looked legit. “I’ll meet you at the side door.”

  Payton closed it and hurried through the house. His back steps were brick and had been crumbling for some time. It had become unsafe to walk down them, and Payton had finally broken down and hired a guy to fix them before someone was injured

  Payton opened the glass exterior door. His side entrance was strangely built. Whoever had designed this house had to have been on drugs. Four steps led to a tiny brick porch where you had to step back to open the door.

  A real pain in the ass when Payton was bringing in groceries or taking things outside to the grill. But he wouldn’t have to worry about that until next year. It was too damn cold to be grilling in this weather.

  Thank goodness it hadn’t snowed, or he might not have gotten his steps fixed until spring.

  “Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Russell said as he ran his hand over his jaw. “I can see under the steps, and that’s never good. I’ll have them fixed in no time.”

  Another guy walked up the driveway. He was short, kind of stocky, and had unruly brown hair. That had to be Russell’s partner.

  “Just let me know if you need anything.” Payton started to close the door to stop the cold air from getting inside, but Bilbo darted out and ran down the broken steps and into the backyard.

  “Fast cat.” Russell chuckled. “I’ll grab my things from my truck. This shouldn’t take too long.”

  “Thanks.” Payton looked toward the backyard and saw Bilbo sniffing around the bushes. The cat would come meowing when he was ready to be let inside.

  Bilbo never stayed out for too long, especially not in this cold. With a shiver, Payton closed the door and finished dressing so he could run his errands. He hadn’t had a chance to go to the grocery store since he’d gotten home from the hospital, and there was no real food in the house.

  Nothing he wanted, anyway.

  Maybe he would stop at the diner for a meal before hitting the grocery store. Just thinking about Cyril’s cooking had Payton’s stomach rumbling.

  Just as he was about to walk out the door, Payton’s phone rang. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, but he saw it was Sherman and answered it.

  “It’s about time you got those steps fixe
d,” his cousin said. “Though I’m not sure butt crack will get the job done.”

  “What in rainbow heaven are you talking about?” Sometimes Payton swore that Sherman had been dropped on his head as a baby. Things just rattled around in there, and he’d toss out random words that made no sense.

  “The guys working on your steps. I can see the short guy’s butt crack. Isn’t his asshole freezing in this weather?”

  “You’re outside?” Payton went to the window and looked out. Sure enough Sherman was parked in the driveway, sitting behind the wheel of his decade-old sedan.

  A lot of the blue had faded into a weird pale color that made the car look sickly. There was a large crack along the windshield, and whenever Sherman took a turn around a corner, it always sounded as though the tires would fall off at any second.

  “I haven’t seen you since you got out of the hospital, and I thought I’d take you to lunch. It’s on me. Now I’m not so sure I’m hungry looking at the hairy-ass crack.”

  Payton smiled. “You love bears.”

  “Oh my god! Give me some credit. I do have standards, and Hairy isn’t my type.” Sherman honked his horn. “Get your gorgeous ass out here so we can get something to eat, Red.”

  Why did every redhead have that nickname? Payton hated it, but he knew if he pointed that out—for the millionth time—it would only make Sherman use it more.

  The guy lived to make Payton’s life miserable. Okay, so that wasn’t true, but he could be a shit sometimes.

  “Let me finish putting my shoes on and grab my coat and I’ll be out. Stop honking your horn like an asshole. You’ll disturb my neighbors.”

  Sherman snorted. “Trust me when I tell you that your neighbors are already disturbed.”

  Payton couldn’t argue with that. Right next door to Payton’s left lived Mr. Raymond Cantinelli. The guy had to be ninety years old, and every time he saw Payton, the guy flirted his wrinkled ass off. One time Payton swore he heard a porno playing in the guy’s living room. Raymond also liked fetching his morning paper, or his mail, in his underwear.

  Thank fuck it was too cold for that now. Payton had suffered enough of the view over the summer.

  On Payton’s right was the Dretzin family. Jack and Jillian. Seriously. Jack and Jill. And at times they acted as if they really had fallen down a hill and whacked their heads. They were as ditzy as they came.

  Across the street was a young guy who dressed Goth and glared at everyone when he came and went. Payton still didn’t know Goth’s name because the guy never spoke to anyone. He always wore chains on his jeans and black makeup.

  Actually, Payton liked him because the guy wasn’t afraid to be himself, though he could do without the stink eye when he saw Goth. Goth was also cute as fuck. If Payton went for the grunge-twink type, he would have been all over the guy, going emo and sticking up his middle finger to the world.

  Payton walked out, locking the door behind him. He was pretty sure Russell and his partner didn’t need him for anything. Even so, he let Russell know he was leaving.

  “Why in the fuck is your car so cold?” Payton rubbed his hands together when he got into Betsy—what Sherman called his piece of shit.

  “The heat went out. I should have told you to grab a blanket since I know you’re too delicate to handle the freezing temperatures,” Sherman said with an evil grin.

  “I’m not delicate,” Payton argued as Sherman reversed from the driveway. “There are a lot of people who would rather hibernate in the winter. Snow sucks, and the cold can kiss my luscious butt cheeks.”

  Sherman grimaced. “Don’t mention butt cheeks. I’ll lose my appetite again.”

  That was highly unlikely. Sherman would be able to eat a spaghetti dinner over a dead body. His cousin had a healthy appetite, even if the food he ate wasn’t healthy.

  Sherman was a bit plump, but it looked good on him. If Payton had gained an extra thirty pounds he would look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

  He would know since he’d lost thirty pounds over the last year. He was surprised Pyke had even looked twice at him, let alone dated him.

  That just showed how genuinely nice Pyke was and how horrible Payton had acted. Part of it had been the weight. Payton had been embarrassed by it, but most of it was the fact that Payton never really felt that the two of them connected.

  Something had always held Pyke back, and being the desperate, needy type, Payton had taken that to heart. It didn’t help that Payton had grown up in a dysfunctional home. With his parents arguing all the time, it was a miracle he hadn’t turned out worse.

  Hence him acting like a true bitch to Pyke.

  Payton would have to apologize to his ex, but he didn’t see that happening anytime in the near future. He’d promised himself that he would leave Pyke alone, and that was what he planned on doing.

  “I hate when there is nowhere to park,” Sherman complained when they arrived at the diner to find every parking slot taken. “Since you’re still recovering, I’ll let you out by the door and I’ll find somewhere to park.”

  “Aren’t you a saint? Now I can go thaw my nuts inside the diner.”

  “We’ve been in the car for five damn minutes,” Sherman said. “Get your delicate ass inside. Order me a soda, and if I don’t make it inside in the next hour because I had to park so far away, order me a corned beef sandwich with fries. Don’t forget the pickle.”

  That sounded delicious, but Payton was going to eat a salad. He refused to put the weight back on after struggling so hard to get rid of it. “Gotcha.”

  He ran from the car into the diner, rubbing his hands together as he looked around at the familiar faces. Payton had grown up in Maple Grove and knew a lot of people, and unfortunately, they knew his parents.

  From the way the two acted in public, Payton should have been a pariah.

  “Hey, Payton.” Kenny, the waiter, smiled at him. “Take a seat at the only available booth.”

  Payton groaned. He should have waited until the lunch crowd had cleared out before coming here.

  He inhaled the amazing smells as he hurried to the booth. Thankfully it wasn’t by the door. He didn’t want to feel a cold blast every time the door opened.

  As soon as Sherman entered, Payton saw snow falling. Crap. He hoped that Russell and his partner were able to finish the steps. Could they still fix them with the snow coming down?

  Payton wasn’t sure but was glad when the waiter approached so they could order their food. He shoved away thoughts of butt cracks and the prospect of a lonely Christmas as he enjoyed Sherman’s company.

  * * * *

  “Bilbo!” Payton was beside himself. It wasn’t like his cat to stay gone for two days. Something must have happened, and Payton was terrified that his furball had been hit by a car and was lying dead somewhere.

  Or Bilbo had been killed by a wild animal. There had been bear sightings in Maple Grove, along with a host of other exotic animals. Payton didn’t believe the stories about cougars, panthers, or tigers. The ones about wolves might be true, and what if Bilbo had become a snack?

  God, he hoped not. Bilbo had been a rescue animal, already having a rough life before Payton had given him a home.

  “Bilbo!” He shivered in the cold, rubbing his arms as he looked around his backyard and up and down the driveway. Payton had listened for his cat for the past two nights, but so far Bilbo hadn’t whined to come inside.

  He made kissing noises, a sound that normally made Bilbo run to him, but all he heard was the wind. All he saw was the snow, which was coming down lightly. There was already a healthy dose of the white stuff, and it was getting into his slippers. Maybe Sherman was right. Payton was too delicate for this cold crap.

  Payton had started back toward the back door when he heard it.

  Meowing.

  “Bilbo?” Payton looked around, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from since he didn’t see his cat anywhere. “Where are you, buddy?”

  Another meow, only
this time it was long and soulful.

  Payton moved closer to the back steps, listening, wishing the wind would shut up long enough so he could hear more clearly. Already he was close to becoming an icicle, and he wanted to get inside his toasty house, but not without his cat.

  This time Bilbo let out a loud panicked meow.

  Payton gasped.

  The men who had fixed his brick steps had done so two days ago, and Bilbo was trapped inside of them! The back porch was maybe two by two, made of brick, and there was no way Payton would be able to get Bilbo out by himself.

  How the hell had he gotten stuck in there in the first place?

  Payton rushed inside and grabbed his phone from the kitchen counter. Who the hell was he supposed to call when his cat was trapped inside a brick porch?

  The fire department.

  Payton couldn’t think of anyone else who would be able to rescue his poor cat.

  “Hang on, buddy,” Payton said when he rushed back outside. “Daddy is getting help. Just hang in there.”

  Bilbo was probably scared and definitely hungry and cold. Payton feared his furball was on death’s door as he talked rapidly to the emergency dispatcher.

  “Did you just say Bilbo Baggins is stuck inside your brick porch?”

  “Yes! I just had it redone, and I think Bilbo might have crawled inside and hid while the men did their job. Please, you need to send someone quickly.”

  That had to be it. Bilbo must have gotten inside when the men went to their truck for something. Payton knew from firsthand experience that Bilbo was fast. It would have taken only a second for him to sneak past the workers.

  “Bilbo Baggins, as in Lord of the Rings?” She didn’t sound as if she was taking him seriously. “Listen, crank calling 911 is—”

  “Who the hell said I was crank calling you?” Payton argued as he rubbed one of the steps, as if that would bring his cat comfort. “He’s stuck in my back steps, and I need you to send the fire department to get him out!”