Mistletoe Match (No Match for Love)

by Lindzee Armstrong

  Michelle’s hands flew, and she was beating on Austin’s chest before she knew what was happening. He grabbed her hands, and she collapsed against his chest, sobbing. “She’s gone,” she whispered. “Bella is really gone.”

  Austin held Michelle close, his emotions all over the board. The raw pain in her voice was unlike anything he’d ever heard. But the outburst reminded him too much of Victoria.

  Michelle’s in pain, he reminded himself as she sobbed all over his suit coat jacket. She’s not acting like herself. She isn’t Victoria.

  Eventually, Michelle let him lead her from the exam room. Blood streaked her skirt and arms, but the tears had finally stopped. He helped her into the SUV, keenly aware of her puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Was Wellsprings Pharmaceutical really partially to blame for this?

  Michelle curled up against the car door, a broken shell of a woman.

  “Is there someone I can call for you?” he asked.

  Silence.

  Victoria had loved to use the silent treatment when they disagreed. He shook his head, forcing the thoughts out. It wasn’t fair to compare the two women. Victoria had never loved something as much as Michelle had obviously loved Bella.

  He pulled into Michelle’s driveway and walked her to the front door.

  “Someone must’ve closed it,” Michelle murmured.

  “What?”

  “I don’t think I closed the door when I went outside.”

  Austin’s back stiffened. “I should check the house.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Michelle pushed open the door before he could stop her.

  “Chelle?” A man appeared in the hallway, his shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes. He rushed forward, wrapping Michelle in his arms. “What’s wrong? I came by and your front door was open. I called your cell, but you left it on the counter.”

  “Bella’s gone,” Michelle choked, burying her face in the man’s chest.

  Austin took a step back, surprised at the disappointment that filled him. It was good Michelle had a man to lean on. She’d said she was single, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dating.

  The man held Michelle close, murmuring soothing words. “I’m Hudson,” he said over the top of Michelle’s head.

  Hudson. Wasn’t that her cousin’s name? It sounded familiar.

  Austin’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m Austin.”

  “I know who you are,” Hudson said. Austin couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “What happened?”

  Austin stood on the front porch and quietly explained the situation while Michelle kept her face buried against Hudson’s chest. Austin ached to be the one comforting her. Had he ever met a woman with a bigger heart? The arguments of the past week slipped away and all the emotions of their mistletoe kiss came rushing back.

  “Thank you for helping her,” Hudson said quietly. “I can take it from here.”

  Austin wanted to protest, but he nodded. “Call me if you need anything,” he told Michelle.

  “Just go, please,” she whispered, her voice muffled.

  She might as well have doused him in ice water. Things had changed for him tonight. But they apparently hadn’t changed for her. His shoulders slumped, and he walked away.

  Michelle didn’t call him the next day. Austin couldn’t stop thinking about the blank, empty expression in her eyes—one eerily similar to Bella’s sightless ones. Was Wellsprings Pharmaceutical really wrong to practice animal testing? Mark’s response to showing off the test labs had worried him. Austin wasn’t sure what the right answer was, but seeing Bella at least helped him understand Michelle’s point of view.

  He couldn’t stop worrying about her. Was she still crying? Had she eaten anything today? What would she do without Bella? At least she had Hudson to comfort her.

  Around noon, Austin called a florist and had a bouquet of flowers delivered to her house. It was a poor condolence, but better than nothing. Then he called the test labs and arranged to take a tour of the facility Monday morning. He was no longer willing to accept his superiors’ answers at face value.

  Austin tried to distract himself by taking the kids to a movie and then out for ice cream. They decided to pick up ready-bake pizzas for dinner on the way home. Whatever did or didn’t happen with Michelle, he had the kids. And that meant everything would be okay. By the time they pulled into the driveway again, even Mariah was laughing.

  “Let’s play a game,” Spencer said as they poured into the kitchen. His eyes were bright with an excitement Austin hadn’t seen in months. He’d happily play whatever game Spencer mentioned all night to keep the carefree, light feeling that had permeated the house.

  “Sure.” Austin set the pizzas in the fridge. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Monopoly.” Spencer smirked. “Mrs. Benson says I’m really good at math. I bet I can beat you, Dad.”

  “No way,” Austin said. He was definitely letting Spencer win tonight.

  Mariah rolled her eyes, but her phone stayed tucked in her jeans pocket. “No one can beat Dad.”

  “I can,” Spencer said. “Just watch me.”

  “Can I play, too?” Sydney begged. “I’m big enough now, right, Dad?”

  “Absolutely,” Austin said. “We’ll all play this time.”

  The infectious laughter of his children almost made Austin forget about Michelle. Almost. Victoria had never participated in family activities, but Austin couldn’t see Michelle talking on the phone in her bedroom while everyone else in the family hung out. He’d bet she was really good at Monopoly, too.

  “Park Place!” Spencer crowed, eagerly counting out his money. “I’m buying it.”

  “No way.” Mariah grabbed the money and recounted it. She threw it back at Spencer with a grumble while he laughed. “Dang it, you do have enough money.”

  “Told ya I’d win,” Spencer said.

  The doorbell chimed, echoing through the house. Austin looked at the kids in surprise. “Did you invite friends over tonight?”

  “We don’t have friends yet,” Mariah said, handing Spencer the property card.

  “Maybe it’s your friend, Daddy,” Sydney said.

  Austin hid a grin. “I’ll go see.” It was probably some college student selling ridiculously overpriced knife sets. He’d have to pick up a no soliciting sign the next time he went shopping.

  Austin opened the door, ready to tell the kid to scram. His jaw fell slack. Michelle stood on the front porch, looking oddly out of place in cuffed jeans, a loose-fitting tee, and converse. Her hair was pulled up in some sort of bun on the top of her head, and her face looked refreshingly clear of makeup.

  Michelle. Was. Here.

  “Hi,” she said quietly. “Sorry to bother you on a Saturday, but I had to come by before I lost my nerve.”

  “How did you know where I live?” Austin asked.

  Her cheeks pinked. “I checked Sydney’s school file. I’m so sorry—I know that’s really unprofessional.”

  “I’m just surprised. Please, come in.” Austin stood back and motioned her inside. He’d half expected to never see her again outside of school after last night.

  Michelle shifted from foot to foot, then finally took a step inside, shutting the door behind her. But she didn’t leave the front entryway.

  Austin folded his arms so he wouldn’t be tempted to pull her into an embrace. “How are you doing?”

  “Better, but still not great. I am so sorry for my behavior last night, Austin. You were nothing but a perfect gentleman, and I took all my anger and sorrow and threw it up all over you. I was completely out of line.”

  His gut impression of Michelle had been right—she was nothing like Victoria. “Thank you for apologizing, but I understand why you did it.”

  “That doesn’t make it right.”

  Austin offered her a tentative smile. “We’ve all done things we regret.” He was still trying to decide if working for Wellsprings Pharmaceutical fell into that category.

 
“Something about you makes me lose my mind and act completely ridiculous.” Her cheeks grew even rosier from a blush. “I always leave our encounters feeling like a complete fool.”

  “The feeling is mutual.” Austin took a step closer and slowly brushed away a lock of her hair.

  “Thank you for the flowers,” she whispered. Her breath washed over his face, a mixture of toothpaste and watermelon, maybe from the lip gloss that gave her mouth an enticing shine.

  “It was nothing.”

  “It definitely wasn’t nothing. It meant a lot to know that someone was worried about me.” She stared at the floor. “I told one of my friends from Their Only Voice about Bella and I’ve gotten a few texts from the group, but they haven’t even sent me flowers.”

  “Dad, it’s your turn,” Mariah hollered from the kitchen.

  Michelle took a step back. “I should let you go. I just wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

  “Da-ad,” Sydney said, drawing the word out into two syllables. He heard the patter of feet, then Sydney slid to a halt just inside the entryway. “Miss Collins. What are you doing at my house?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never had a teacher visit me.”

  “Hi, Sydney. Are you having a good Saturday?”

  “Yes. Daddy took us to see a new movie and then we got ice cream, and now we’re playing a game.” She danced across the entryway, grabbing Michelle by the hand. “You have to stay and play with us. Monopoly is my favorite game and you’re my favorite teacher, and now this is the best Saturday ever because I get to have both of the things I love.”

  “I really should go home,” Michelle said, but she didn’t pull away. “You don’t want to see your teacher on the weekend anyway.”

  “Please stay,” Sydney said. “It’ll be so fun. You can eat pizza with us.”

  “Yes, please stay,” Austin said quietly, echoing his daughter’s words. Michelle stared into his eyes and electricity sparked between them. “I would really like you to stay.”

  Her green eyes flashed with a thousand emotions Austin couldn’t read. But it was impossible to ignore the way her body leaned toward him. He wasn’t sure if Michelle was even conscious of the action. Then an emotion he did recognize flashed in her emerald depths—desire.

  “Okay,” Michelle whispered. “I’ll stay.”

  Had she seriously just agreed to spend a Saturday afternoon with a student’s family? Okay, it wasn’t the family Michelle was worried about—it was Sydney’s all-too-attractive dad. This felt like a serious step over the teacher-student professional line she’d always been so careful not to even toe.

  “Hurray!” Sydney cheered, shutting the front door.

  Austin’s eyes were soft and warm. “Hurray,” he echoed. That one word sent a delicious shiver up Michelle’s spine.

  Their Only Voice would die if they knew she was here. But Michelle couldn’t bring herself to care.

  She’d kicked Hudson out not long after Austin last night, wanting only to be alone. She’d cried all night, hating Austin and the company he worked for. But sometime around four a.m., she’d realized that all the hate in the world wouldn’t bring Bella back. Wellsprings Pharmaceutical was horrible, no doubt about it. But Austin wasn’t. He’d rushed to Bella’s aid without a second thought. And in the end, he’d been right to discourage the surgery. It would’ve been cruel to make Bella continue to suffer.

  Michelle had texted Autumn first thing that morning, explaining she needed someone else to take her shift at the petition table that afternoon. Autumn had obviously notified the members of Their Only Voice, because Michelle had received a handful of texts from the members throughout the morning. But no one had called or dropped by. Did anyone even care that Bella was gone?

  When Austin’s flowers had arrived, Michelle had broken down and sobbed, all her anger disappearing. Suddenly, she’d had to see him. She wanted his strong, comforting arms to wrap around her in a warm embrace the same way she wanted Bella to return. That desperate need had prompted her to agree to Austin’s invitation.

  “Nice Christmas decorations,” Michelle joked as Austin led her through the living room. A television hung on one wall, and a brown suede sectional filled most of the space. But no decorations hung on the walls, and no Christmas tree filled the empty corner of the room.

  Austin rubbed his chin, a rueful smile turning up a corner of his mouth. “I keep meaning to get to that. Things have been crazy lately.”

  “Lucy said she’d help us decorate a tree,” Sydney said.

  “Lucy?” Michelle asked.

  “The college girl I hired to help out,” Austin said.

  “Oh, right. Black hair, kind of short?” Michelle asked.

  “That’s her,” Austin said.

  “I’ve seen her at the school once or twice.” Michelle was glad someone was helping out the family.

  “We don’t have a Christmas tree, but we do have pizza.” Austin walked through an archway and into the kitchen, and Michelle let out a gasp.

  “I’d sell a kidney for this kitchen,” Michelle said. She ran a finger over the stainless steel double ovens. “One day I’m having these ovens.”

  “Yeah, the real estate agent seemed to think this kitchen was a big selling point, too,” Austin said. Two kids looked over from the table where a board game was spread out between them. “Kids, this is Miss Collins, Sydney’s teacher.”

  Michelle gave a small wave. She recognized Spencer immediately, with his dark chocolate hair and startling blue eyes. She’d seen him around school a few times. Mariah looked more like Sydney, with ash-blonde hair and porcelain skin.

  “Hi, guys,” Michelle said. “Thanks for letting me crash your party.”

  “Sorry about your dog,” Spencer said. “Dad told us.”

  Michelle swallowed, blinking back tears. She wouldn’t cry today. “Thank you.”

  Austin cleared his throat. “Mariah, will you preheat the oven to four hundred and twenty-five degrees?” He pulled two uncooked pizzas wrapped in plastic wrap out of the fridge. He glanced over at Michelle. “Do you like pizza?”

  “I’m vegan, so I don’t eat cheese or eggs. But I’m not really that hungry.”

  “No problem. We’ll find you something you can eat.”

  Wow. He was probably the first guy to ever say that. Well, except the members of Their Only Voice. But she’d never wanted to date one of them.

  I can’t want to date Austin, either, she reminded herself. Except she totally did.

  Austin returned to the fridge, grabbing a large bag of mixed salad. “Uh, vegans eat salad, right?”

  “Yes, we eat salad.” She hid a smile, her heart warming at how casually he’d taken her unusual eating habits. Austin was a good man, and she’d misjudged him. Their Only Voice had misjudged him.

  “You don’t eat any animal byproducts?” Mariah said, not even attempting to hide the disdain in her voice. “So, what, you only eat fruit and vegetables? That’s not even healthy.”

  “I also eat grains and nuts.” Michelle washed her hands in the sink and grabbed the salad, dumping it into the bowl. She wouldn’t let Mariah get to her.

  “That’s stupid,” Mariah said.

  “Mariah,” Austin said, his tone rough with a reprimand.

  Mariah rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone.

  “You don’t eat steak?” Spencer asked.

  “Nope,” Michelle said.

  “Do you get angry at people who do?”

  Michelle hid a laugh. “No. It’s a choice I’ve made for myself, but I don’t expect everyone to make the same one.”

  “Does that apply to more than just food?” Austin asked quietly.

  Michelle stared into his eyes as the words sank in. Did she really expect Austin to give up a job that supported his family simply because the company supported practices Michelle was morally opposed to? She didn’t exactly like the standardize testing she had to make sure all her students passed—she thought it impeded learning, even—but that didn
’t mean she was going to stop being a teacher. No job was perfect. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “This past week has been … confusing.”

  “For me too.” Austin looked away and cleared his throat. “So do you only eat healthy stuff?”

  “Uh, no. I make a mean caramel popcorn.” He felt the connection between them, too. Was she willing to pursue it, despite all the risks? Michelle motioned to the limp salad. “Do you mind if I doctor this up a bit?”

  “Be my guest.”

  “Daddy doesn’t know how to cook,” Sydney said.

  “Hey now.” Austin mussed her hair. “I made macaroni and cheese last week without any problems.”

  “That’s because Mariah helped you,” Sydney said.

  Michelle laughed. “Do you like to cook, Mariah?”

  The girl barely glanced up from her phone. “I guess.”

  The oven beeped, and Austin slipped the first pizza in. “You kids make it sound like I’m hopeless.”

  Mariah did put away her phone this time, and the look she gave her father was full of affection. “You kind of are.”

  “Our housekeeper in Las Vegas was teaching me how to cook, too,” Spencer said. “My cookies are pretty good.” He squinted up at Michelle. “Do you eat cookies?”

  “If they don’t use eggs.” Michelle grabbed a cucumber from the fridge and found a cutting board. “I have a few good cookie recipes. One uses applesauce.”

  Spencer wrinkled his nose. “That sounds disgusting.”

  “I bet you wouldn’t even notice the difference,” Michelle said.

  Austin’s arm brushed hers as he set a wilted tomato on the counter. It would have to do. “I’d love to try your cookies sometime,” he said.

  Michelle’s heart pounded in her chest, and she nodded. “It’s a date.”

  A slow smile spread across his face, and her face burned with heat. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Here, Miss Collins.” Sydney pushed her way between them. “I found an avocado. Those are healthy, right?”

  “Very,” Michelle said, taking the fruit. “Thank you.”

  “Mariah, phone away,” Austin said. “Help Sydney set the bar. We’ll eat there so we can finish the game after dinner. Spencer, I think the dishwasher needs to be unloaded. Isn’t it your day to do that?”