Mistletoe in the Snow: A New Hope Sweet Christmas Romance - Book 1

by Lacy Andersen

  “Did something happen between you two?” Laurie asked, always the first to come to her aid. “A fight? Is this a Ben & Jerry’s kind of day? I can make a quick run downtown and pick up a pint.”

  “No, no.” Gemma waved them off. Scott wasn’t important enough to warrant a pint of Chunky Monkey. That stuff only came out in true emergencies. “I’m fine.”

  “Did he cheat on you?” Chloe stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, looking ready to hunt him down and give him a beating. “He always had that look about him. I told you, Laurie, didn’t I? He’s going to be sorry.”

  “He didn’t cheat on me.” Gemma shook her head at the absurd thought. “In fact, he asked me to marry him last night…”

  She had no chance to finish her story. Laurie launched herself into her lap, pulling her into a lung crushing hug that threatened to crack a rib.

  “Congratulations!” she cooed. “You’re going to make the most beautiful bride. When’s the big day?”

  “We don’t have a day…” Gemma began.

  It didn’t stop Laurie from grabbing at her hands and yanking her forward. “The ring, the ring! Where is it? I have to see it.”

  “I don’t have it.”

  When it was clear that Gemma had no ring in sight, Laurie finally let her go. The three of them stood quietly for a moment while Gemma gathered the courage to speak, afraid of disappointing her closest friends. They’d tossed wedding ideas back and forth across the office, occasionally dreaming of what theirs would look like, but Gemma had been the closest to the actual act. Laurie and Chloe, as beautiful as they both were, seemed to have about as much luck finding a good man as Gemma. It didn’t make sense to her that three women in their late twenties could have so much trouble, but then again, men seemed to confuse her just as much.

  “You turned him down,” Chloe finally spoke up from the doorway. Gone was her usual sass, replaced by a soft sympathetic tone. “Cut him loose?”

  Gemma nodded, grateful not to have to tell the story.

  “And he’s gone?”

  Again, she nodded. “Packed up all his stuff this morning. We’re officially over.”

  A long moment of silence followed. During her long break-up with Scott last night, she hadn’t shed a tear. Hadn’t felt the need to. But now, she could feel them welling up at the corners of her eyes, ready to spill at the hint of any reproach from her friends. Scott’s anger she could take. But her friends' disappointment was another.

  “Well, it’s about time,” Laurie said, breaking the silence. She beamed at Gemma, her green eyes sparkling. “You were always too good for him.”

  “Thank God,” Chloe added with a dramatic sigh. “That loser needed to go.”

  Gemma’s mouth fell open. Despite the sudden relief flooding her stomach, she felt a little betrayed. “Are you saying you didn’t like him? All this time?”

  “Hated him,” Chloe said with a smack of her lips while Laurie nodded in agreement. “Total tool. We just thought he made you happy, so we went along with it. I’m glad that’s out in the air, now.”

  Gemma laughed, her heart lighter. She shouldn’t have worried so much about her friends. They hadn’t let her down in the three years they’d known each other, and they’d still be there for her after today. Suddenly, the week seemed a little brighter.

  “Don’t get all cozy,” Chloe said with a flick of her wrist, as she turned to head to her office. “Laurie’s got some unsettling news to share with you. You’re not going to like it.”

  Gemma turned to her office manager with a worried look. “What is it?”

  “I got a call from my friend up at Barkley & Barkley,” Laurie said softly. She moved to sit in a seat across from Gemma. “Apparently, we’re supposed to be getting a surprise visit from them later this week. They’re sending down Mr. Barkley’s nephew, Lance Barkley.”

  “To do what?”

  Gemma hated corporate visits. They made her feel as if she’d done something wrong. But Barkley & Barkley was their only source of donations, so she had to play nice.

  “Well, apparently, he’s been extra naughty around the office,” Laurie whispered, as if afraid someone might overhear her. “A real Playboy type. They’re sending him up here to keep him out of trouble.”

  Gemma leaned forward on her elbows, running her tongue along the inside of her teeth. A sour taste had formed in her mouth. “So what, we’re supposed to babysit him?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Any chance he’ll bring some more funds with him?”

  Their funding had been slowing down these past few years. Budgets were spread tight around the non-profits in New Hope. Any increase in donation dollars would be a welcome gift for the holidays.

  “My friend doesn’t think so,” Laurie said with a sigh. “It’s purely a babysitting job with zero payout.”

  Gemma sucked on her teeth and shrugged her shoulders. The Christmas season was too busy of a time to get caught up in worrying. If this spoiled nephew wanted to come here and put up his feet, that was his business. She was fine with it, as long as he stayed out of her way.

  “Set up a temporary office in the lobby with you,” Gemma told Laurie. “Mr. Barkley can make himself at home. I have the feeling he won’t be staying long.”

  Chapter Three

  Rounding the corner to the nearest coffee shop, Lance glanced at his new home for the next two weeks. New Hope was the kind of town only found in cheesy Hallmark movies.

  A quaint little grocery store with blinking Christmas lights stood on the corner, kids’ toy displays behind every large window. The town’s only bank sat next door, with no drive-through or ATM. A man in a bright red Santa suit rang a bell in front of the Salvation Army store, coins clanking in his bright red bucket anytime someone dropped by with a donation. The trees that lined the street were filled with twinkling lights and shiny tinsel, the kind that made Lance want to barf.

  And worst of all, everyone in this dinky town seemed to know one other. They’d greet each other with bright, cheery Happy Holidays on every corner. He was the stranger. That was made clear by the awkward stares directed his way. He’d be surprised if this town had seen anybody from the outside civilized world in over a hundred years. They certainly didn’t act like it.

  He’d sent Frankie to check them into the motel. At least he’d had the good sense to bring his assistant on this task. He needed a constant reminder that life didn’t end at New Hope’s city line. His current mission was to find some decent coffee. The brew in the rusty old machine sitting in the motel’s lobby wasn’t going to do it for him. He needed something exotic and he needed it now. If only he could find a decent cup in this town, he might just survive.

  Surviving wasn’t an option for everyone. His uncle had made it very clear that he would probably be firing some employees in the near future. The thought made him queasy. He’d never had to cut an employee loose before now. As disgusted as he was about this little town, he knew the workers here were still hard-working people. They needed to earn a living as much as the next person. Taking away their jobs seemed harsh. If there was any other way…

  But there wasn’t. He was here to prove to his uncle that he could be a man and run his company. If that meant firing someone, he would do it. There was no room for hesitations or emotions. His nerves would survive another day. He could hide them beneath a freshly dry-cleaned ten-thousand-dollar suit and pressed shirt.

  Lance paused on the street corner and proudly buttoned up his suit jacket. Business clothes had a way of toughening up a guy and making him act like a man. It was a sort of mask he could wear from day to day, hiding any insecurity. A suit was safety in pinstriped cloth and silk ties.

  Spotting the sign for Blue Stem Bistro, Lance quickened his pace and jogged across the street. It was already three o’clock in the afternoon, and he still wanted to pop into the Foundation for a few minutes to see who he was dealing with. Most likely, they were a small team of overweight balding men past their prime
and ready for retirement. He’d probably burst in on them during their afternoon nap time.

  Lance chuckled at the idea. He’d be doing them a favor, shutting down the Foundation. Guys like that needed to be put out to pasture, to enjoy their golden years. A few turns on the golf course and they’d forget all about the Foundation and Lance Barkley.

  He yanked open the door to the bistro and walked inside the aromatic room, suddenly blinded by an assault of red, green, and white. Miniature Santa Clauses sat on every available surface in the shop. Some stood motionless, but a good handful jumped to life as he walked in the door and began to screech out a dozen or so Christmas carols at once.

  Startled by the cacophony of song, Lance jumped to the side and smacked into a woman with long wavy blonde hair. She held three cups of coffee in her arms, which all began to fall as she lost her balance. He held out his arms to steady her, but in doing so, got a splash of steaming hot coffee down the front of his shirt.

  “What the…?” Lance huffed as the hot liquid seared his skin. “That’s burning! It’s burning my chest.”

  He yanked off his jacket, but most of the coffee had landed on his shirt. With gritted teeth, he pulled the fabric away from his skin, hoping the burns weren’t serious. The last thing he needed right now were skin grafts.

  “Crap.” The woman kicked the cups out of the way and reached out with a handful of napkins to dab at his chest and stomach. “I’m so sorry. Let me help.”

  By now, the pain had begun to subside and Lance could assess the damage. His brand new shirt was effectively ruined and his favorite suit stained. Not even the best dry cleaner could rescue it. The mask that he’d meticulously picked out for his first day on the job was ruined. Not a great way to start.

  “You’ve done enough,” Lance said with a growl. He tore the napkins from her hands and began to dry the coffee that had by now traveled all the way down to his crotch. At least it hadn’t burned him down there. “I can get it.”

  “Woah, I was just trying to help,” the woman replied. She held up her hands and pursed out her lips. “No need to get testy.”

  “I wasn’t getting testy.” Lance raised his eyebrow at her. He was the one standing there with a giant coffee stain down his front. What right did she have to give him attitude? “I can handle it from here.”

  “Fine.” She handed him another handful of napkins. “It’s all yours.”

  He dabbed some more at the stain, but it only seemed to spread. The woman watched him through amused eyes, leaning back against a table spread with condiments and silverware.

  “Are you waiting for something?” he asked when he couldn’t take her stare any longer. He glared at her, although he knew he didn’t have the right to be angry. It was an accident, clear as day. But this wasn’t how he wanted to start his business trip.

  “I think you owe me three grande coffees,” she replied with a tilt of her head.

  For the first time, he noticed her deep brown eyes and the thick lashes that framed them. His stomach gave him a little jolt when he glanced at the rest of her. The woman who stood in front of him was gorgeous, in that girl-next-door sort of way. She didn’t wear much makeup and the clothes she had on were simple, but she didn’t need much adornment. Her womanly figure and the generous shape of her mouth more than made up for that.

  “Owe you?” he blinked at her in confusion. “But you ran into me.”

  “I did not.” Her brows knit together in frustration. “You launched yourself at me when you came barreling through that door. If anyone’s to blame, it’s you.”

  His head was telling him that forking over the money for three coffees wasn’t really a big deal, but his pride was running all the plays, and it wasn’t going to let him give up that easily. “I don’t think so. No jury in the world is going to buy your story.”

  They stared each other down as Lance gave up on the dabbing and tossed the napkins in the nearest bin. If there was ever a time for caffeine, it was now.

  “Excuse me, Gemma, honey.” A little old woman leaned out from behind the counter, waving at the blonde woman. She giggled and then pointed above their heads. “I’m afraid it’s tradition.”

  Lance’s gaze followed the trajectory of the woman’s finger to find a gnarly old piece of mistletoe hanging from the rafters above. The thing must have been a hundred years old. Its leaves were in sad disrepair and most of the berries were gone. Still, it was clearly hanging directly above their heads and according to Christmas tradition, they had to kiss.

  “Jeanette…” Gemma replied nervously with a grimace. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “Come on, now,” Jeannette cooed. She reminded Lance of his grandmother on his mom’s side. A determined old woman who always got her way. If Jeannette was anything like his grandmother, she wouldn’t let them leave until they’d kissed. “Humor an old lady.”

  Gemma groaned and frowned at Lance. Despite her clear look of disgust, his stomach gave him another jolt as her gaze settled on his. What he wouldn’t do at that moment to pull her soft body next to his and entangle his hands in her hair with a sweeping kiss. Still, it wasn’t his style to force a kiss out of a woman. She had to be a willing participant.

  He knew how to help her save face.

  “Not going to happen today, lady,” he said loudly. The few other customers in the shop looked up from their books and laptops at him. “Not even if you paid me a million bucks.”

  He smiled victoriously as the old lady scowled and turned back to her coffee cups. Not every hero wore capes, he thought with a flicker of pride, but he’d certainly nailed it today.

  It was with surprise and shock that he looked back to see Gemma’s indignant expression. She had crossed her arms tightly across her chest and was glaring at him. His gaze swept the shop to find that their audience held similar expressions of outrage and anger.

  Somehow, he’d managed to anger the hive, but he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Hadn’t he just saved the damsel in distress from an embarrassing situation? What exactly was everyone so mad about?

  “Put these on his tab,” Gemma said, as she collected three fresh cups of coffee from Jeannette and hugged them in her arms. She glanced at him accusingly and lifted her chin. “He’s paying.”

  With that, she swept out the door in a flurry of afternoon snowflakes and left him questioning his decision to stay in this town until Christmas.

  Chapter Four

  It had taken her a good fifteen-minute walk down Main Street to cool down after that coffee trip. Despite the liquid rapidly chilling in her arms, she kept walking, willing the steam to stop pouring from her ears. Laurie and Chloe would have to forgive her for bringing back cold coffee.

  This was a level nine freak out. A handsome stranger in an expensive suit had just mocked her in front of her friends and neighbors. That wasn’t something she could easily get past. If she could go back in time and slap him, she would. She’d slap that arrogant smile right off his perfectly chiseled jaw. That would make her feel better. At least, that’s what she imagined.

  “Sorry, ladies,” she announced as she got back to the office. The work day was nearly over, but they still had some paperwork to finish before they could call it a day. “I had an interesting run-in at the coffee shop, so now your coffee’s cold.”

  Chloe and Laurie were both standing next to the secretary’s desk, not listening to a word she was saying. They were staring at the door to Gemma’s office, stupid smiles lighting up both their faces.

  “What’s going on?” Gemma set the coffee down and rounded the desk.

  “He’s here,” Laurie whispered. She giggled and leaned back onto the desk. “And he’s cute.”

  “Who’s here?”

  “The nephew,” Chloe answered quickly. She bit her bottom lip and grinned. “And he’s more than cute. He’s smoking.”

  Great - not only was this babysitting job going to be distracting enough, but the guy had to be good looking. Gemma doubte
d she’d be able to get her friends to accomplish anything for the next couple weeks. She’d be better off putting his office in the closet or outside on the curb.

  “We’ll see about that,” she said with a determined lunge toward her office door.

  She walked into her cozy office to find the naked back of a man facing her. He had pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. Gemma couldn’t help but notice the athletic V shape of his torso or the muscles that rippled with his every move. She stopped dead in her tracks, momentarily confused.

  “Um…boss?” A man in an orange beanie stood behind Gemma’s desk. In his hand, he held a crisp new white shirt. He tilted his head toward her, signaling to his friend that they had company.

  The half-naked man turned to face her, and Gemma found herself staring at the same face she’d been slapping in her imagination for the past twenty minutes. The coffee house jerk stood in front of her, arrogant grin and all, his sculpted chest bare and apparently unscathed from the hot coffee incident.

  “You?” Gemma found herself saying with a shaky voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “I work here,” he replied with a tilt of his head. His blue eyes scanned her over as he stood unabashedly half-naked in her office. “I’m Lance Barkley. And this is my assistant, Frankie Bay.”

  “Hi ya,” Frankie said with an over enthusiastic nod of his head.

  “You’re the nephew?” Gemma found herself unable to peel her eyes away from him. He was just short of six-foot tall with short black wavy hair. The way he held himself told her he was used to expensive suits and staring at women. With a gulp, she closed her eyes and willed herself to calm down.

  “Yes, I’m the nephew,” Lance chuckled, the sound sending thrills down her spine. “I’m here for a couple weeks, so don’t worry. Plenty of time for you to ruin the rest of my wardrobe.”