Christmas on Mistletoe Lane--Includes a bonus short story

by Annie Rains

  A timer beeped in the kitchen. Dawanda pushed back from the table and stood. “That’s my cue. I have fudge cooking.” She lifted a second cup of coffee off the tray, added the milk, and then pushed it in front of Mitch. “Enjoy your drinks and holler if you need anything!” she called as she scuttled away carrying the tray and pitcher of milk with her.

  Kaitlyn furrowed her brow as she stared down into her cup of cappuccino. “How in the world did she read anything from this? All I see is coffee and foam.”

  Mitch chuckled. “Who knows?”

  The door to the store dinged behind him.

  “Customers,” Kaitlyn said, her eyes lighting up.

  Mitch hoped for her sake that the description matched what she had guessed. He’d hand over the final piece of fudge to her regardless. Turning, he inspected a blond woman in her late twenties holding the door open as a tan-skinned man entered the shop. Mitch’s stomach turned, twisted, and then flopped like a dead fish in his belly. Brian Everson was the last person he wanted to meet here tonight. And the last person he wanted to see him.

  Mitch ducked his head, feeling caged in the store suddenly.

  “Looks like I win!” Kaitlyn cheered.

  He pushed the plate toward her. “All yours. Now let’s get out of here.”

  * * *

  The sun had crept down below the mountains, and in turn, the temperature had dropped even further while Kaitlyn was in the knickknack store with Mitch. They’d stepped into the pottery shop after that, and Kaitlyn had found a beautiful piece as a Christmas present for her mom. Not that her parents were likely to be around for the holidays.

  Kaitlyn hugged her arms around her body as they retraced their path back to Mitch’s truck. He hadn’t offered to put his arm around her for warmth this time. He’d been noticeably distant ever since they’d left Dawanda’s Fudge Shop, making her wonder if it had anything to do with the cappuccino reading. It wasn’t as if Dawanda had said Kaitlyn would enter into a long-lasting relationship of any type with him.

  “Thanks for tonight. You were right. This was just what I needed,” she said, trying to get Mitch to snap out of his sudden funk.

  “I’m glad you had a good time.”

  “I did.” She looked over at Silver Lake and stopped in her tracks. The moon was full tonight and reflected perfectly in the pool of water. “It’s so beautiful,” she said, her words making white puffs in front of her. Then she looked up at the sky and the twinkling blanket of stars just like Josie had described in her article. This was a different world from her life in the city, where looking up she only saw lights from the neighboring apartment buildings.

  “Uh-oh. Looks like you’re falling in love.”

  She shifted her gaze to him, and her heart caught in her throat at another wonderful sight, this one of a beautifully rugged man whom she was starting to like entirely too much. “Excuse me?”

  “With Sweetwater Springs,” he clarified.

  “Oh.” Her gaze swept to her feet and back out to Silver Lake. “Maybe I am. There’s a lot to love about this place.” She looked up at him again. Big mistake. Either she’d taken a step closer or he had. They were standing only a foot apart now. She held her breath. Then he reached up and swept a lock of her hair from her cheek. The tip of his finger caressed her skin as it slid past, sending shivers through her body. And for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her.

  Do I want him to kiss me?

  She wasn’t looking for anything romantic but if ever there was the perfect moment to share a kiss, it was this one, with the starry sky and illuminating moon, standing by a lake and staring into Mitch’s dusky eyes. Oh, goodness, she wanted to feel his lips on hers. Needed it almost as much as her next shallow breath.

  Did he want to kiss her too?

  Without thinking, she flicked her gaze to his mouth. Nothing subtle about that. She might as well have whispered, “Kiss me. Kiss me now.”

  Hearing her loud and clear, he dipped his head toward her and pressed his mouth to hers. She braced a hand over his muscled chest as she went up on tiptoes and parted her lips, allowing his tongue to sweep inside her mouth. Just like with everything else, he was good at kissing. Very good.

  What am I doing? The question was short-circuited by the pure pleasure firing through her. Didn’t matter. She’d worry about the repercussions of kissing Mitch later. It’d been a long time since she’d been kissed. And she’d never been kissed quite like this. The feel of his beard tickled her cheek and aroused her from head to toe.

  His hand curled behind her neck, a welcome anchor because otherwise she might have just floated up and away into the starry night sky. Maybe she was already floating. That’s how she felt. Light and free.

  After a long moment, he pulled back. “I’ll, uh, take you home.”

  She looked into his eyes, hoping to read what that kiss had meant. It was so good that it had to mean something. In answer, she saw a coolness in his gaze. Then he turned and started walking again as if nothing special had happened at all.

  * * *

  Mitch was well practiced in self-control. Or so he thought but Kaitlyn’s lips had offered an escape he couldn’t resist. After seeing Brian in the fudge shop, he’d needed an escape more than he needed air to breathe. Taking Kaitlyn into his arms had felt as natural as anything he’d ever done.

  But kissing her was wrong. He had too many regrets in this town and didn’t want to add her to the list. Parking in front of the B&B, he glanced over. There was a look in her eyes. Hope that he might kiss her again? Worry that he would do just that?

  He cleared his throat and looked away because the temptation to lean in and taste her once more was too strong. She’d tasted like cappuccino and chocolate. Like heaven in his mind. “I’ll, uh, see you in the morning.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” She reached for the door handle.

  “Hold on. Let me get that for you.” He wasn’t necessarily a Southern gentleman but he wasn’t a brute either. If you kissed a woman, the least you could do was open the truck door for her.

  He ran around and pulled the passenger door open.

  “Thanks,” she said, stepping down onto the driveway’s pavement.

  The movement brought her close to him—too close. He could smell her, could practically taste the sweetness of her lips again. His mouth watered in response.

  Get it together, Mitch.

  He took a step back, feeling awkward and restless and completely out of his element. Kaitlyn’s eyes still offered that same escape. Tempting as it was, he needed to bolt. Right about now he was counting his lucky stars she hadn’t allowed him a room at the B&B while he stayed in town. Because going inside with her would break his steel willpower. He had no doubt about that. There were limits to the kind of temptations a man could resist, and he was walking the edge of that limit.

  “Good night,” he said, turning away before his body betrayed him. He climbed into his truck and scolded himself all the way to his mom’s house.

  “Hey,” his mom said, looking up from her recliner when he let himself in.

  “What are you doing awake?” She was normally early to bed and started working as soon as her feet hit the floor, usually before the sun came up.

  “Can’t sleep.”

  “Not tired?” he asked, unable to imagine how she wouldn’t be. He set his keys on the coffee table and took a seat on the couch across from her. There was a book in her lap, he noted. The woman couldn’t be idle for a second.

  “Oh, I’m tired, all right, but my body doesn’t seem to have gotten the message.”

  Mitch frowned. “When was the last time you had a checkup?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve already told you: I’m not sick. Maybe I should get some vitamins or something.”

  Mitch leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “What’s the worst that could happen if you see a doctor? Huh?”

  She looked at him and swallowed. “Oh, I don’t know. He could tell me I’m dying.” She
laughed weakly but neither of them really found it funny. That’s what had happened to Mitch’s dad. He’d had a lingering cough. Just a cold that wouldn’t go away. Everything had been fine until his dad had gone to the doctor and was told otherwise. Then nothing was ever fine again. His dad was diagnosed with stage-four lung cancer and had died six months later.

  “That won’t happen,” Mitch said, reaching out a hand to place on her knee. He squeezed gently. “You need to make sure everything is okay, Mom. Please. For me.”

  She blew out a breath, patted his hand, and then finally nodded, much to his relief. “Fine, fine. I’ll call and make an appointment tomorrow if it’ll make you happy.”

  “It will.” He leaned back. “And seeing you get to bed will make me happy too. Just lie in bed and close your eyes. Isn’t that what you used to tell me? Fake it until you make it? It always worked when I couldn’t sleep.”

  They both stood.

  “What did I do to deserve a son like you?” she asked. She meant it in a good way, he knew, but he’d often asked himself the same question. His mom had endured so much heartache in her life, and some of it had been his doing.

  * * *

  “You did what?” Josie gasped on the other end of the line.

  Since Mitch had dropped her off, Kaitlyn had turned on one of her favorite romantic movies and was halfway through a tall glass of white wine. She was now feeling the buzz tangled with a bunch of unruly hormones and a large dose of confusion. “I kissed him. It was a mistake.” Saying so didn’t seem right though. Kissing Mitch had felt amazing.

  “Okayyyyy,” Josie said.

  Kaitlyn could imagine her friend sitting behind her desk working, even though it was past ten p.m. Josie was always working on her next article or interview or big idea.

  “Are you going to kiss him again?” Josie asked.

  Kaitlyn sipped more of her wine. “Of course not. We work together, and then he’s leaving after Christmas.”

  “Well, I don’t recommend kissing people you work with but kissing men who are leaving is perfect. It takes the pressure off.”

  “Perfect for you maybe,” Kaitlyn said, swirling her wine around the glass in little circles. “I kind of like the idea of getting attached to a man one day.”

  “Someday, but not right now. Right now, you’re building your business. There’s no time for anything else. But, just for kicks and giggles, was he a good kisser?” Josie asked.

  Kaitlyn rested her head back against the couch cushion, staring at the muted television screen. “The best. He has a beard that’s soft and rough. I’ve never kissed a man with a beard before.”

  Josie sighed. “Bearded kisses are the best. Did his hands roam while you were kissing? Or did they stay put?”

  Kaitlyn thought back. “One of his hands started at the back of my neck and slid around to my cheek.” A shiver ran through her at the memory, and she could almost feel that calloused finger brushing over her skin again.

  “I wrote an article on kissing once. When I interned at Teen Vibe magazine in college. I think we labeled that the sweet kiss.”

  Yeah, it was definitely sweet. And sexy too.

  “The sweet kiss is a prelude to the let’s-get-it-on kiss. Make sure you’re wearing your best lingerie next time you plan on kissing him.”

  Kaitlyn choked on her sip of wine. She didn’t plan on kissing Mitch again but the thought of experiencing a let’s-get-it-on kiss did things to her.

  “So, back to business,” Josie said. “Has the phone started ringing yet?”

  “Not yet. But the December issue just went out, right?”

  “Right. Like I mentioned before, we start circulating a couple weeks ahead of each new month so it should hit mailboxes in the next couple of days. Let me know when people start booking.”

  “I will. Thank you again. I wouldn’t be doing this without your help.”

  “That’s what friends are for. But listen, I need to go. If I don’t get this article for the January issue drafted, I might not see my bed tonight.”

  “You’re a machine,” Kaitlyn said with a yawn. Bed sounded nice, if she could convince her legs to walk her there. “Good night.” She disconnected the call and placed her cell phone on the couch at her side. Then she grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. Standing, she felt her head go fuzzy. Perhaps she’d had a tad too much wine.

  She headed toward the hallway and then stopped short when the doorbell rang. She froze for a long moment. Who visited this late? And she didn’t know anyone in town except for Mitch, who usually just snuck up on her.

  It rang again.

  Well, this was a functioning bed and breakfast. She’d updated the website just this morning. Maybe someone had found it online and needed a room. She set her glass of wine down and walked to the door. On an inhale, she pulled it open and offered up a smile.

  To a tall, dark-haired man in a leather jacket, tight jeans, and biker boots.

  Her heart may have stopped in that moment. He looked like he belonged on a Harley driving down an open highway. And if she had to guess, there was probably a motorcycle in the driveway that wrapped behind the house. She hadn’t heard it rumble in but she’d been distracted by her phone call with Josie. “Hi. Um, can I help you?”

  “Yeah. I know it’s late but I need a room.” His voice was deep and smooth. He had pale blue eyes that seemed to pop against his all-black clothing.

  A little fear and excitement sliced through her, which was silly. Bikers weren’t dangerous or aggressive. But famous movie stars like Bradley Foster weren’t supposed to be aggressive either.

  “This is a B and B, right?” he asked, when she didn’t respond immediately.

  “R-right. Yes. Come in.” She gestured for him to step through the front door, despite the sudden anxiety prickling inside her.

  “So, do you have a room available for me?”

  He stepped over the threshold, and she willed herself not to take a step backward. This would be fine. Everything would be fine.

  “Of course we do. Like you said, we’re a B and B after all.” Only there was no we. Mitch was gone for the night. It was just her. “You can stay in the, um, Dirty Dancing room.”

  The biker lifted a pierced brow.

  Heat scorched her skin. “That came out wrong.” She laughed nervously. “All of the rooms are named after a romantic couple. The Dirty Dancing room is named after Baby and Johnny.”

  And this man oozed Johnny. He was gorgeous and had “bad boy” written all over him but he didn’t stir the same kind of rumblings in her belly that Mitch did.

  “Cool,” he said, and then offered his hand. “My name is Paris.” Before she could respond, he nodded. “I know. Not a name fitting for a guy who rides a bike. My folks were romantics. They honeymooned in Paris, and then I came along nine months later.”

  She smiled, relaxing just a notch. “I love that. I’m Kaitlyn Russo.” She offered her hand. “Welcome to the Sweetwater Bed and Breakfast. If you don’t mind, can I wait to give you a full tour of the place until morning? It’s a little late.” And the thought of roaming through the house alone with a sexy biker was a little intimidating after what she’d been through.

  “That’s fine.” Paris pulled a wallet out of his back pocket.

  She’d played around with the credit card swipe machine the other day to make sure she was ready. She took his card, walked it over to the machine, and swiped it. After a moment, the information went through without a problem.

  Handing it back to him, she said, “Okay, Paris. Let me show you to your room.”

  She walked with him upstairs to the room at the end of the long hall. She adored the Dirty Dancing room. It was simple and reminded her of a hot summer day. The curtains were sheer like Baby’s dress in the final scene of the movie. Every time Kaitlyn stepped inside, she heard the beat of that final song play in her head and thought of Baby running across the dance floor and Johnny catching her as she dove like a bird in the air.

&nb
sp; Paris set his lone bag down on the floor. “This is great. Thanks.”

  She nodded and stepped back. No matter how nice he seemed to be, he was a stranger, and she was still unnerved by her recent past. “Um, what time would you like breakfast?”

  He shrugged. “Seven or eight, I guess.”

  “Either of those times will be fine. The dining room is downstairs. It’ll be a home-style breakfast, where you serve yourself.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She exited the room and headed downstairs. The buzz of the wine was gone now, replaced with a bubbling uh-oh-what-do-I-do nervousness coursing through her. When she got to the landing of the stairs, she cast a glance back up to where she’d just left Paris. She’d imagined couples coming to the B&B, two people absorbed in their own love for the other. She was fully prepared for that. She’d never considered that single, gorgeous biker dudes would show up or that she’d be in a house all alone with them. Which would’ve been completely fine a few months ago. But after her last episode with Bradley…

  Not fine. Not fine at all.

  She retrieved her cell phone from the couch, sucked in a breath, and dialed. She didn’t know what else to do or who else to call.

  “Hey.” Mitch’s deep voice calmed her as soon as she heard it. “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “No. Yes. I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  Gah. This was more than a little embarrassing to ask. “Can you stay with me tonight?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  After the kiss, Mitch had decided to steer clear of Kaitlyn. They’d gotten too close for comfort tonight, and that wasn’t part of the deal. He’d heard the shaky quality of her voice when she’d called just now though. She hadn’t sounded like a woman inviting him back for a nightcap. Instead, she’d sounded upset.

  He pulled his truck around the back of the house and parked beside an unfamiliar motorcycle. A guest? As he climbed the porch steps, Kaitlyn opened the door.