Mistletoe Kisses & Christmas Wishes: A Christmas Romance Boxed Set Book Bundle Collection

by Leah Atwood

  Stephen grinned and bumped back. “Octopuses, Dad.”

  Stephen’s father turned to Lacey with the hint of a wink, “And what says the expert? Is octopuses or octopi the plural of octopus?”

  She flushed. “Actually, neither is completely right… or wrong. ‘Octopus’ is from Greek and its plural is octopodes. ‘Round these parts, though, we say ‘octopus’ for singular and plural.”

  “Most impressive…. I’m sorry. I don’t think I ever heard your name.”

  Stephen spun in a circle, as if he’d become a ship caught in a whirlpool. “She’s Lacey, like girls’ underwear and brawls.”

  A woman near the recycle bin stared as though Lacey had lifted her aquarium polo and flashed the restaurant.

  Stephen’s father turned red down to the blue pinstripe of his collar. “Wow. That’s not at all awkward, Stephen. I’m sorry, Lacey.” The red grew deeper.

  “Not a big deal.” She tried not to smile.

  “Hi Lacey.” Just her luck. Deanna was today’s barista. If she’d remembered it was Thursday, she would have suggested the café down the street, farther though it was.

  Deanna did an almost head to toe assessment of Stephen’s dad. “Is this your brother visiting you for Christmas?”

  Smug tone, as if any guy Lacey had with her must be her brother.

  “No, this is…” Her face went hot. Mr. Davis? A man she just met at the aquarium? Why had Sam pushed her into lunch with a stranger? The push was, no doubt, inspired by guilt over her engagement to Lacey’s ex-boyfriend.

  No need for guilt. They’d been pleasant years with Brett. Not pleasant enough. He used words like “sweet” and “smart” when breaking up with her. Sam and he were together within a week. The short time had raised a few eyebrows, made people ask if they’d been seeing each other before. Sam said she wasn’t. Did the fact that Lacey believed her make her naïve, as well as “sweet” and “smart?” Jealousy only flared because Lacey didn’t have anyone, which told her Brett had been right to call it quits.

  Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding…

  “Anders,” The man supplied.

  “Is that Scandinavian?” Deanna raised her eyebrows. “I’m half Danish, half Finish—part sweet, part savory, or so I’m told.” She winked.

  He smiled a clear rejection of Deanna’s bait.

  Go Anders.

  “Actually, it’s short for Anderson.” He turned to Lacey and extended his hand. “Anderson Davis.”

  “Lacey McDowell.” Lacey shook the hand.

  She could almost hear the snide lyrical tone in Deanne’s thoughts. “Desperate.” And suddenly she was that awkward eighteen-year-old who hadn’t been asked to the prom, the ten-year-old forgotten when everyone else was invited to Cicely’s Bounce Central party. She hadn’t cared, she told that ten-year-old self. She’d spent that day the way she’d spent many others—lying on the dock watching interactions between starfish, crabs and tiny octopus. Special times, but not a substitute for friendship any more than her dozens of books had been.

  He released her hand. “What would you like, Lacey?”

  “A mocha, please.”

  “Ace-faced?” Deanna scribbled a note on a sheet of paper.

  “Please.”

  Anders studied the menu board. “What’s Ace-faced?”

  “It’s named after a past giant Pacific octopus. His claim to fame was a romance with a she octopus named Yoyo. They were released some time ago, but the latte art pays tribute to his popularity.” Which was more nerdy, that she knew, or that she loved the octopus swirled into the foam?

  “What would you like, Anders?” Deanna widened Cupie eyes at him, hand poised over the pad.

  “Guess I’ll try the Octo-pie. How about you, Stephen? Peanut butter and jelly, jelly fish sandwich?”

  “As long as it isn’t a man o war.”

  Deanna smiled at Stephen. “We serve only the non-stinging variety of PB&J. Anything to drink?”

  “Chocolate milk for him and I’d like a coffee, please, dark and plain, Ace-free.”

  “I can make hearts, fish, snowflakes and leaves, too.”

  “Just black coffee, thank you.”

  “They say men who don’t mix their drinks are true barbarians.” Deanna raised her eyebrows. Again, Lacey had turned invisible, a non-competitor.

  Anders winked at Lacey. “Yeah, Conan is my middle name, but I gave up most of my barbarian ways when this guy was born.” He put his hand on Stephen’s head, and the little guy shrugged away.

  “Dad, I want a mocha with an octopus, please.”

  “The word please doesn’t make a demand polite. Would you like to try again. Stephen?”

  “Could I please have a mocha with an octopus?”

  “Much better. Sure. I guess a mocha for him instead of the milk.”

  “Got it.” Deanna handed the order slip to a young man and stepped over to the coffee machine. “Have a seat wherever you like.”

  Anders took a table looking out on Elliot Bay. “Sure pretty here. How often does it rain?”

  “Most of the months of November, February and June. The rest are iffy. Where are you from?”

  “San Diego.”

  “Then, rain is daily as possible in our forecast as it isn’t in yours, but it’s not the kind of rain you think. We get a drizzle you can walk in for about a half hour without really getting wet. It’s the gray skies that get to people. What are you doing in Seattle?”

  “I’m here on business.”

  “Oh! It’s probably too late now, but it just occurred to me that they could do an Ace face on a hot cocoa.”

  His eyes studied her face, as though considering something. “A mocha is good, actually. Stephen is on the Spectrum and coffee seems to help keep him centered.”

  “On the Spectrum. Like Autism?”

  “Yes.”

  “But he seems like any other kid.”

  “He is, as much as any other kid is like any other kid. Wait, Lacey McDowell, Marine Biologist?”

  “Yes?” How had he heard of her?

  “Your name was mentioned over at the Aquarium.”

  “Hopefully in a good way.” Winters were slow, and this year seemed especially so. Was her boss considering firing her?

  “I’m sorry. I thought you were an intern or a volunteer.”

  Her cheeks scalded. “Uh, no!” That came out stronger than she’d wanted. “I get that a lot. People think I’m younger than I am. I like to say it’s my Elven blood.” She smiled, trying to lessen the sting. A smiling cartoon shark came to mind. “At eighteen, people thought I was twelve. Now, most guess I’m seventeen. I’m actually twenty-nine.”

  His eyes moved, as though evaluating her face, taking in each freckle. “That isn’t what made me assume you were an intern or volunteer. I figured since you were so good with Stephen you worked with kids in the tide pool area. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  She wished she could tell him no insult had been taken. Be slow to anger. Lacey had some emotional maturing to do, as well as physical. Maybe God had graced her with youthful looks so her emotions had a chance to catch up.

  His eyes glossed. Sad. Honest. Handsome.

  “Sorry I took offense.”

  “No worries. So you’re Lacey. Not what I expected.”

  “I guess it’s only fair. When I sat up, I expected to see Stephen’s mom.”

  He laughed and her world turned to sparkles, the kind she loved on the Puget Sound, the Salish Sea, when the sun hit it. “That would be the first time she and I were confused.”

  She waited for an explanation, words vowing that Stephen’s mother had died in childbirth or, at very least, joined a nudist colony in Africa five years ago, but none came. A shadow formed, clouding the sun. Married. Time to reel her poorly cast line back in. Oh well. She didn’t need to fish. She had a whole aquarium, a whole ocean-full of fish, all with scientific names to help categorize them. It was a comfortable life.
She did love it. “Well, I had better get back to work. Thanks for the mocha. It was a pleasure to hang with you, Stephen, to meet you, Anders.” She put out her hand.

  “Lacey…”

  Like the underwear.

  She waited. She’d love to stay, to get to know him, to ask about Stephen’s autism. Could Stephen grow to be a marine biologist? If she were his mother, she’d make sure of it if she had to move heaven and earth. Hopefully, his mother was doing that very thing.

  Anders didn’t finish whatever he planned to say. He shook her proffered hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, as well.”

  With that, she went to the counter and picked up her mug. She’d return it later.

  A glance backward showed Stephen and Anders watching.

  Ships passing in the night.

  Ace glared from the foam, as if to call her a chicken. Was she? Singleness seemed a reasonable requirement—foundational—for beginning a relationship.

  It could be he’d invited her to lunch as exactly what he’d said, a thank you. At worst, he was a man searching for a quick tryst, an anglerfish dangling his child like a light over its mouth… except the dangling anglers were all female.

  Or there’s another reason he didn’t explain. A recent divorce, a separation.

  A not-quite-divorce was far too complicated for her.

  She’d be happy to be Lacey McDowell, Marine Biologist, all the days of her life. She might become the Jane Goodall of cephalopods.

  The blue and white bubble ornaments caught her attention as she passed. This would be her first Christmas alone. She forced a smile at the glass ball somehow in her hand and rehung it on a cedar branch.

  Chapter Two

  Lacey bent, hands on her knees. “Hey, Gabriel. Good morning, buddy.” Stephen was right. He was one sad-looking cephalopod—pasty colored and lethargic. Could they bring in a friend for Christmas? Ace’s Valentine’s get together had been popular, bringing in huge crowds.

  It was good for the aquarium, which was good for the staff marine biologists’ salaries. With Lacey on board, the animals were healthy, the leafy sea dragons growing and thriving.

  Was Gabriel dying?

  No!

  She’d rather have him mate and die than watch him fade day by day. His death wouldn’t be good for the aquarium either. Dozens had signed up for membership back during Ace’s courtship. Hundreds watched his progress. There were even some who seemed to think Gabriel was Ace and came back frequently to console him on his lost love.

  A whole three people offered sympathy when she and Brett broke up, one of them the beautiful blonde Samantha, who then started seeing him.

  That’s what happens when you spend more time with nudibranchs—sea slugs—than people.

  Maybe it wasn’t octopus love, the desire to mate, bringing Gabriel down. She stepped into her office and immersed herself in research on vitamins—cobalamin, vitamin B-12. Its lack led to lethargy, depression. Would Ace’s color return if she increased the bivalves in his diet, added more clams and oysters. Oysters were symbolic of romance, but could they replace it?

  A knock sounded and Pablo dipped his head into her office.

  “What’s up, Pablo?” She stepped to the door.

  “Some NOAA guys were here asking if I had any bright scientists worthy of a six month research trip. I told them I couldn’t give up my best, but after pondering it, I’ve concluded that it isn’t my decision to make. What say you, Lacey? If this has been something you’ve always dreamed about, I don’t want to stand in your way. They’re shipping out the 24th.” He handed her a card with a blue and white bird design on it.

  “Christmas Eve?”

  “Guess so, huh?”

  “Would the aquarium be better off not having to pay my salary for a few months?”

  “Don’t worry about that. You’re worth it. Totally up to you.”

  “Would I have a job when I came back?”

  “Lacey, you are always welcome here.”

  Welcome. But could they afford to pay her? Six months would bring her to June, peak season. It could be one of those rare win-win situations. “Pablo, a kid who was in yesterday gave me an idea. He said it would be good to get Gabriel a mate for Christmas. I wonder if it might bring the crowds back.”

  “Are you willing to give him up?”

  That was a good question. She loved Gabriel. “Why do their lives have to end after mating? It doesn’t seem right.”

  “It’s not any different for people.” He laughed at Lacey’s dirty look. “Octopus are solitary creatures, but maybe the solitary life doesn’t hold any appeal after biting the forbidden apple, if you know what I mean.”

  She didn’t know, not exactly. “Or, it may be because their gonads are in their brains, and brain function slows after mating.”

  “Again. Not so different from people.” He cleared his throat and tapped something sounding like an SOS on the door. “I’ll think about it, maybe make some calls.”

  “Thanks, Pablo.” She waved the NOAA card. “And thank you.”

  “You going to go for it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. It has actually been a dream of mine, but I didn’t want to leave Brett.”

  His expression seemed to echo her thoughts. She should have gone. Well, here was another chance. If she didn’t go, it was pure cowardice, and this time she didn’t even have a sham of a relationship to blame.

  Pablo saluted and disappeared.

  She picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Hello.” A man’s voice.

  “Yes, hello. My name is Lacey McDowell, and my boss at the aquarium, Pablo Barreras, gave me your card. He says you’re looking for scientists to go on a research trip.”

  “We are, tell me a bit about your passions, Dr. McDowell.”

  Nobody called her Dr. McDowell, though she was a bonafide PHD. It thrilled her to hear it. Her heart fluttered as she tried to remember what he’d asked. He had a gentle voice. Kind. She found herself wondering what he was like.

  Old.

  Most NOAA people seemed to be in their late 40’s or 50’s. Would signing on be giving up on having a family, settling into a premature middle age?

  He’d asked a question—Passions.

  What was Lacey passionate about? “I love cephalopods. Octopus especially thrill me. I’m very interested in mating. I mean the habits of octopus.”

  She was interested in mating. Had she really said that in a screening interview?

  If the voice on the other line thought it odd, he didn’t say anything. “We’re mostly studying the effect of radiation on marine mammals, potential problems caused by Japan’s near meltdown.”

  “My thesis was a critical evaluation of antibacterial soaps on marine mammals.”

  “What was the conclusion?”

  “That triclocarbans are changing mammals’ ability to utilize the vitamins in their foods by killing gut flora.”

  “Hmm. I would be interested in reading through that research.”

  Lacey’s face heated.

  “I’d like you to arrange an interview with my colleague Dr. Ono for some time next week. Would that work for you?”

  “That would be fine.”

  Fine. Oy! Was she trying to fail? Be brave, Lacey.

  With arrangements made to interview with Dr. Ono at ten a.m. on Tuesday, Lacey went out to be with Gabriel, her Christmas angel who looked more like a devil. “God, if this is something you want me to do, please make it abundantly clear.”

  “Hi Lacey.”

  She turned to see Stephen looking like a clone of his father who stood above him. “Hi Stephen. Hello Anders.”

  “Lacey, it occurred to me that you thought I was married and perhaps wondered if I were some kind of cad. I’d like to explain. Stephen, can you go watch the octopus for a minute?”

  Stephen smiled and ran for the tank, ending his run in a two-footed hop that landed him in front of Gabriel.

  Lacey smiled. Not gentle, but he got points f
or enthusiasm.

  Rather than swimming away, Gabriel seemed to come alive. His antics brought rolling laughter from Stephen. Strange. Did the cephalopod feel some kind of affinity for a boy who didn’t fit in?

  Lacey did.

  “Two years ago, my wife left me, actually, left him.” He lowered his voice and nodded toward Stephen, who followed Gabriel around the tank, finger on the glass. “His behavior embarrassed her, how he acted in stores, at concerts, out in the field at Peewee baseball. She said she couldn’t handle it—that a ‘normal kid’ was hard enough. I told her parenting was about taking the difficulties with the joys, and she said maybe she wasn’t ready to be a mother. She was gone the next morning.”

  “How sad.”

  “Sad and wrong. He didn’t deserve it. He’s a delight and every child has a right to feel cherished, especially by the people nearest them. Ironically, she’s likely fairly high on the spectrum herself. I wanted you to know I’m not some letch, grabbing the first girl to come by. You are lovely, worthy of a letch’s attention, but I asked you to lunch because I was intrigued.”

  Was it a sign of great insecurity to feel flattered he considered her worthy of lechery?

  “I’ve never seen Stephen respond to anyone the way he responds to you. He held your hand, learned your name, and even let you call him buddy. He doesn’t let me call him buddy. Ever. That tells me you are a pretty cool person, Lacey. If you’re able, I’d like to take you to lunch Saturday. A friend suggested the Crab Pot, said it was delightful with fun seafood and wood carvings. Are you able to go with me?”

  She wanted to be “able”—way more than she wanted to look at bridal gowns and flower arrangements with Samantha at the wedding expo. She’d promised. “I’m sorry. Saturday, I’m going to the wedding expo with Sam.” The idea of chatting with videographers and tasting cherry chocolate cake, or any part in preparing for a wedding which promised to be the most awkward one of her life, didn’t thrill her.

  “A wedding expo with Sam. That certainly has primacy over the Crab Pot with a stranger. Well then, I appreciate the kindness you’ve shown to my son. I wish there were more people like you in the world, Lacey McDowell.”