Mistletoe Magic
Page 4
“I… “ Caitlin knew the answer he wanted to hear, and seven years ago she would have gladly said that, but not today. “No. I’m going to have to look for a new apartment.”
“Lucky kitty.” He gave the cat a scratch behind the ears. “Mistletoe can always bunk with me if it takes you a while to find a place and move.”
Her gaze flew from the kitten to Noah’s. “You’d do that?”
“Not for just everybody. But for Mistletoe and… you I will.”
Her pulse skittered. She wasn’t sure what was happening between her and Noah, but she didn’t want it to stop. “Thanks. I’m really glad you were here today and not in Portland.”
“Me, too.” He looked down at the cat, then up at her. “We’ve kissed under the mistletoe. How about a kiss over Mistletoe?”
Anticipation swelled. Caitlin was going to get what she’d wished for—another kiss. “Under, over, doesn’t matter to me.”
She leaned forward, mindful of the kitten, and kissed him hard on the lips. His kiss was warm, thorough, and tasty. The hint of coffee and salt made her want more. No doubt his kisses were addictive, but at this moment she didn’t care.
Best. Christmas. Present. Ever.
Well, next to Mistletoe.
Something buzzed.
He drew the kiss to an end. “That’s my signal to get back. You don’t want to be tired on Christmas. Go home and sleep. I’ll bring Mistletoe over when my shift ends?”
The air rushed from her lungs. She forced herself to keep breathing. “I’d like that. I’ll leave the address to my friends’ house.”
“Great.”
Yes, it was. But not quite enough, she realized with a start. “I remember how you like to plan things. Plan on sticking around when you come over. Spend the day. Christmas with me.”
“Sounds like the best plan I’ve had in a while.”
“It’ll be fun.” She wiggled her toes with excitement and hope. “The house is all decorated. There’s a big Christmas tree.”
“Good, because I’ve been working so much I didn’t have time to put one up.” The buzz sounded again. “I’ve got to go now, but in a few hours I’ll be there with bells on. And Mistletoe.”
He held out his arms for the kitten.
Caitlin kissed Mistletoe’s head. Reluctantly she handed the kitten to Noah then kissed his cheek. “Thanks for… everything.”
His gaze lingered. “See you soon.”
Not soon enough. “I’m not a kid, but I wish it were already morning.”
He laughed. “Me, too, but Santa already delivered my presents.”
“What?”
Tenderness filled Noah’s eyes, a look she could get used to seeing. “You and Mistletoe—and maybe a second chance.”
Her lips parted with surprise. Christmas magic? Or mistletoe magic? Either way, she was becoming a believer. Wait until she told Jen. “Definitely on the second chance.”
He stole a quick kiss. “This is going to be a great Christmas.”
Caitlin had no doubt about that. She wouldn’t be spending this Christmas alone. Maybe the start of a new tradition…
“Though next year might be even better,” he said.
She drew back. Had he read her mind? “Next year?”
“When we dress Mistletoe up like Santa.” He grinned wryly. “I like to plan ahead, remember?”
Joy seemed to lift her feet off the ground. “I remember.”
And she had a feeling this Christmas was only the beginning of the memories the three of them would create… together.
THE END
If you enjoyed spending time in Marietta, Montana, be sure to read all three A Copper Mountain Christmas novellas:
A Cowboy For Christmas – Katherine Garbera
Find out more
Home For Christmas – Melissa McClone
Find out more
A Copper Mountain Christmas – Anthology
Find out more
For all the latest news and fun from Montana Born Books, visit our website: MontanaBornBooks.com!
An excerpt from
Home for Christmas
Melissa McClone
Copyright © 2013
Nate set the wreath on the front porch, making a mental note to find the hanger, and headed to the mudroom. A silver pickup with an American flag decal in the back window caught his eye.
Ty Murphy—his best friend and partner, though Ty preferred to call himself the foreman—was here. Not surprising. Ty was the hardest worker Nate knew, the one person he could always count on.
He kicked the snow from his ostrich dress boots and opened the mudroom door.
The smell of ginger, nutmeg, and cinnamon slammed into him like a stampeding steer. Only this didn’t hurt.
Well, his stomach did. Hunger pains.
His mouth watered with anticipation. He had no idea what was baking or which of his employees had started the morning off in the kitchen, but he wanted a taste.
The scent of Christmas circled his head, tantalizing his nose and taste buds. If he could bottle and sell the scent, he would make a fortune. He glanced around to make sure he hadn’t entered the wrong house.
Nope, this was the Bar V5, the place he’d grown up and, God willing, where he’d die and be buried when his time came.
He hoped that wasn’t in the next five minutes, but if the Grim Reaper was on his way, Nate had better get into the kitchen so he could get a bite of whatever was cooking first. He placed the duffel bag strap on his shoulder then stepped through the doorway.
What the…
Silver mixing bowls, spoons and pans stacked haphazardly on top of each other in the sink like a culinary edition of Jenga. Pull one thing out and the entire pile would tumble down.
Cereal bowls, full of different colors of icing, sat in a cluster on the island. Pastry bags twisted like licorice between plastic containers full of sprinkles and candies.
Decorating cookies?
He took a closer look.
Not cookies. Gingerbread.
Like his mom used to make.
That explained the smell.
He rubbed his chin. Stubble pricked his fingers.
Someone had made themselves at home, but who? Ty grilled. He could smoke a mean brisket. But bake? Not likely. The other wranglers usually stuck to the bunkhouse. Maybe elves had decided to pay a visit.
Nate circled the island for a closer look.
White icing held together rectangular and square pieces of gingerbread in various stages of construction. Houses, cottages, even a barn.
On the far counter, miniature white lights illuminated the insides and hung along the eaves of three houses. Christmas trees made from star shaped cookies were strung with lights, too.
Charming and creative.
He wanted a taste.
A small piece of gingerbread, the size of a window cutout, and a few others sat on a paper towel. Scraps to be tossed? No one would miss one. He popped a square into his mouth.
Flavors exploded with just the right mixture of spices and sweetness. Oh, yeah. Whoever baked this knew what they were doing. Wanting more, he reached for another piece. His hand froze. He did a double take.
One of the gingerbread houses looked like the Crawford House. Same Victorian architecture. Similar gables and bay windows. A hint of the whimsical.
Cha-ching.
Mrs. Annabeth Collier, formerly Crawford, one of Marietta’s First Families, would pay top dollar for a custom gingerbread house. Rather her daughter Chelsea’s billionaire boyfriend Jasper Flint would. And not only them.
Nate wanted one of the Bar V5.
People around here went all out for the holidays. These houses would go over big. He didn’t know how much one cost to make or the profit margin, but with the right marketing…
“Hello.” The feminine voice wrapped around him, warm and welcoming as the scent of gingerbread baking. “Can I help you?”
He turned toward the sweet-as-molasses sound.
A twenty-something woman stood in the laundry room doorway. Blonde hair piled haphazardly on top of her head. Strands stuck out of the messy bun. A puzzled expression complete with two little creases above her nose made him want to see a smile on her pretty face. Clear complexion, straight nose, full lips and warm hazel eyes.
His pulse rate kicked up a notch, maybe two. Okay, five.
Nate recognized, but he couldn’t quite place the color of her eyes. But the way the color changed from light brown to green to a golden hue captivated him.
She wore a simple purple long-sleeved turtleneck, but streaks of white across her chest—flour perhaps?—distracted him, made him want to volunteer for cleanup duty. Faded jeans hugged her hips and thighs until flaring slightly at her calves. Long legs and curvy in all the right places.
Cute candy cane striped sock-covered toes peeked out the bottom. The pattern amused and intrigued him. Part of an elf’s costume or holiday attire?
Either way, Christmas had come early.
He’d been good this year and deserved a reward from Santa. Hot gingerbread baked by a hot woman was making him hot. The only improvement to his wonderful gift would be if she was naked and wearing a red ribbon. Though he could live without the ribbon.
His heart raced, as if trying to catch his horse Arrow when the stallion had escaped from the pasture. Sweat dampened the back of his neck. Had someone turned up the heat?
Her mouth twitched. She looked like she was waiting for something.
Oh, yeah. Him. “Hi.”
About the author
Melissa McClone’s degree in mechanical engineering from Stanford University led her to a job with a major airline where she traveled the globe and met her husband. But analyzing jet engine performance couldn’t compete with her love of writing happily ever afters. Her first full-time writing endeavor was her first sale when she was pregnant with her first child! Since then, she has published over twenty-five romance novels with Harlequin and been nominated for Romance Writers of America’s RITA award.
When she isn’t writing, she’s usually driving her minivan to/from her children’s swim and soccer practices, 4-H meetings and dog shows. She also supports deployed service members through Soldiers’ Angels and fosters cats through a local non-kill rescue shelter. Melissa lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, three school-aged children, two spoiled Norwegian Elkhounds and cats who think they rule the house.