Just Add Mistletoe: Christmas in Gingerbread, Colorado
Page 9
He grimaces at the thought, and yet those dimples flirt with me mercilessly. “I thanked her right away. I think that’s plenty.” He winces. “But I’m pretty sure she’s looking for a monetary payout.”
“Money is her middle name,” I whisper as I do my best to push Sabrina out of the picture for a moment.
My heart grows heavy as I drink down his features. Graham Holiday has my adrenaline hitting its zenith just being in this close proximity. It’s almost alarming the way he’s that much more comely once you get within kissing range. Not that I’m going to kiss him. He’s practically an engaged man.
I clear my throat. “I’m sure you’ll think of something of value to gift her. I hear she’s partial to diamonds. Big ones. So get your wallet ready.”
A dark laugh rumbles from him, but Graham’s eyes never leave mine. “Fat chance on that happening anytime soon.”
“So you like playing hard to get. You do realize that will only motivate her.” It’s true. If anyone likes a challenge, it’s Sabrina Jarrett. She’s competitive to a fault, and she lives to play dirty. My stomach does a revolution at the thought.
He gives a slow blink. “I guess we have that in common.”
I reach down, readying to serve up a piece of snow pie myself when Graham catches my wrist. His gaze remains pinned on mine as his hand glides down and he threads our fingers together instead. It feels nice like this, holding Graham’s strong, warm hand, his flesh heating mine to furnace levels. My heart races up my throat as if trying to pop right out of my mouth to have a look around at the commotion for itself. I’ve never felt so alarmed by my emotions, by the fact my body is responding to another human being so volatilely.
The hint of a smile curls on his lips as his lids hang seductively low. Graham leans in as if he were about to brush his mouth over mine, and if he does, I don’t plan on stopping him. In fact, I’d brush mine over his just to soak in how soft his lips are. I lean in, just a breath more, then turn my face and my lips smack him over the cheek. And just like that, Sabrina pops in my head.
“Oh my God.” I back away abruptly. “I’m so sorry.” I clear my throat as I struggle to my feet, and he bounces up beside me as if he were on springs. “I must have tipped over.”
He gives a slow, sad nod as if deciding to play along with the lie. “And I helped keep you upright.”
“Yes.” It comes out lower than a whisper. “Thank you for that.” My heart thumps wild as if it wanted a replay of the moment that almost led to something spectacular.
Nick calls my name in the distance, and the two of us make our way back to the tree lot. We pick out a bruiser of a tree, a seven footer that’s as round as it is tall, and Nick helps hoist it in the back of Graham’s truck. We collect Noel, and Nick helps me wrap her in a blanket once we get in the cab. I hold her like a baby all the way home, and strangely enough, it feels as if we’re an official family—a broken family living in two homes, but nevertheless something about this feels right.
As soon as we get back to my place, Graham gets to the arduous task of landing the gargantuan pine in the tree stand I use year after year. It belonged to my grandparents and somehow made its way to me. It’s steel with a wreath forged into it, and I love the fact that every tree I will ever own will sit in the same spot all of my grandparents’ trees once sat. I help Graham stage it just right in front of the bay window in the living room, so that when I decorate it to the nines, the neighbors and dog walkers will be able to enjoy it. That’s half the fun for me—sharing its beauty with the world. I pull out a box of lights from the hall, and Graham and I string them up in record time. Once we’re through, we share a high five and glance over to find Noel curled up by the fire in her cozy dog bed, already snoring away.
“I guess I won’t know until morning what she thinks of it.” I look back to the tree lit up in a rainbow of pinks and blues, yellows and greens, purple as that night sky tonight, and I can’t help but fall in love with this beautiful spruce. But my gaze can’t seem to stay on that tree. Instead, I look to Graham, at how impeccably gorgeous he is next to the glorified evergreen, with the fire roaring behind him. Graham Holiday looks resplendent tonight. He outshined that night sky. He makes the tree look like a plain fallen bough. My heart brims as it starts in on that erratic tempo once again like it did at the tree lot.
Graham’s sky blue eyes hook to mine, and I can feel him drinking me down.
“So, what about you?” My voice pitches a moment. “Have you and Sabrina put your tree up yet? I mean, you got to admit, the raging fire, the magic of Christmas lights, nothing beats the fresh scent of pine. It’s all pretty romantic.” My chest bucks when I say that last part. In no way do I want to think about Graham getting romantic with Sabrina Jarrett. Not when I can still feel the stubble on his cheek over my lips. Even if that kiss was accidental, it has clearly left an impression on me.
Graham winces. “I have a confession to make,” he whispers. “I’m not in the least bit interested in Sabrina.”
My eyes widen at the thought. My heart begins to race as my adrenaline soars. “You’re not?” It’s all I could muster. A small part of me is very worried what the ramifications of such a confession might mean—for both Sabrina and me.
He shakes his head. “You still sorry about that kiss back there? When I’m kissed, I usually like to kiss back.”
“Oh”—my fingers touch over my lips a moment—“I thought we were calling it a rescue mission.” I bite down on a smile that demands to surface. “I was feeling tipsy, remember?”
His brows dip a notch, and my stomach dips right along with them. Graham is achingly gorgeous, and every last part of me demands to let him know that.
An enveloping heat sears through me as I clear my throat a moment. “So, you’re really not into her, huh?”
He shakes his head just enough for me to see it.
“Well, if that’s the case, maybe one more kiss wouldn’t hurt.” I point up, and he drags his eyes from mine for less than a second. “Mistletoe.”
“What do you know?” he whispers. “Mistletoe just so happens to be my favorite.”
Graham leans in, his lids hooding dangerously low as his fingers dig into the back of my hair. His mouth falls over mine with the slightest brush of the lips, then quickly comes in again for something far more serious. I wrap my arms around him as we fuse our mouths together, our kisses growing far more fevered and lingering by the moment.
My heart detonates in my chest one riotous wallop at a time as if every beat was working up to this incredible moment. Graham kisses me passionately, deeply, in a way that I have never been kissed before, and it’s as if a veil pulls back and the blinders fall off and I can see the truth plain as day.
I’m in love with Graham Holiday, and I have been all along.
Graham
I can’t get rid of this goofy grin on my face. Missy and I made out like a couple of teenagers last night right up until Noel woke up and began chasing her tail all over the house. We finally decided to pen her in the laundry room. Missy had a doggie gate she bought for that very purpose, and Noel calmed down and went right back to sleep on that overstuffed cushion Missy wedged in there with her. The thing was the size of a Volkswagen, but Missy insisted she wants nothing but the best for her baby girl. Our baby girl, I corrected.
A laugh strums from me at the memory as I head into the Gingerbread Bakery and Café with a single lavender rose in hand. I just dropped Noel off at the lot, stopped off at the florist for something simple. I’d give Missy a dozen of these if I didn’t think it’d send us ten paces backward. Nope. Missy is skittish. She’s always held her guard up way too high, and I’d hate to have her think I was merely in it to scale the wall. That’s not what this is about. That’s not what those kisses were about either. I can scale just about any wall I wanted back in New York—heck, probably here in Gingerbread, too, but what Missy and I shared last night was special. I’ve never had a single kiss that ever made me feel the way she di
d. I’m not quite sure that I get what’s happening here, but the rose seemed like the right move, a thank you and an apology for overstepping my bounds all in one.
No sooner do I step inside and spot Missy pouring a cup of coffee at the counter than a body tackles me with a violent embrace.
I pull back to find Sabrina Can’t-Shake-Her-Loose-Jarrett coming at me again, only this time she smacks her lips right over mine.
My insides twist into a knot as I quickly pull away. Like a reflex, my eyes immediately dart to Missy. But she’s turned abruptly away, helping the next customer on deck with a shoulder lifted high in our direction as if to shield her from witnessing any more of the spectacle. She has to know that I didn’t initiate it, that I would never even contemplate kissing Sabrina, let alone doing it to her face in her shop. My heart feels heavy as that granite slab Missy has her hands pressed against. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she were forcing her fingers to remain there rather than wrap themselves around Sabrina’s neck—or worse, mine.
“It’s beautiful!” Sabrina shrieks as she plucks the rose right out of my hands and spins around, waving it through the air, causing a scene with it in true Sabrina fashion. “Can you believe it?” she sings to someone to her left, and my heart thuds once again as I spot Mom and Dad watching the two of us with bewildered expressions. I’m slow to glance back Missy’s way, but, sure enough, she’s giggling right alongside Holly. I’m guessing she’s figured out the rose was meant for her. Great. And now she gets to watch me squirm my way out of an early morning gathering that I want no part in. “It looks like we are definitely on the right path.” Sabrina navigates us to my parents’ table, plucks a chair out, and pushes me in it before taking a seat to my right. Both Mom and Dad lift a curious brow my way.
“Son.” Dad forces a smile to come and go. “Sabrina here tells us you’re quite serious. And so soon upon your arrival. How—interesting.”
Sabrina is quick to wave him off. “Like I always say, why put off a good thing?”
Mom nods as if affirming this madness. “That’s what I always say, too.” She offers a stern glance in my direction. “Why didn’t you tell us this brilliant girl came up with a plan to save Holiday Pies all by her lonesome?”
I can’t help but frown as I glance past her at Missy who’s busy pretending to organize her platters. She knows perfectly well she’s positioned within earshot. A dark laugh lives and dies in my chest. Maybe I should give her a show?
“That’s right.” I do my best to project my voice. “Sabrina here thought of it all on her own. In fact, she convinced Missy to lend her the kitchen and then proceeded to bake her heart out and donate all the pies she auditioned for us to the homeless shelter downtown.” My lips press tight to keep from grinning like some deranged loon. I don’t know where to look first. It’s like Christmas.
I glance to Missy who’s busy rolling her eyes to the ceiling before shooting me a look and heading to the kitchen. I knew she’d catch on quick. I’m slower to cast a glance in Sabrina’s direction—but, rather than being angry with the half-truths I’ve just spouted, she looks mildly confused as she nods in acceptance of this accolade.
“My goodness, Sabrina!” Mom chirps at the benevolence of it all. “The next time I see your father I’ll be sure to tell him what an angel he’s got on his hands.”
More like a devil, but that might be a little harsh. Sabrina did come up with a great idea. And I can’t hold the fact she’s wildly attracted to me against her. Heck, at this point, I should probably come with my own addiction warning. I can’t help but stifle a laugh at how ridiculous that sounds. I would have given anything to have shared that with Missy. I know she’d have a feast with that one. I’m teasing, of course. Sabrina is stalker material no matter how brilliant a scheme she devised to save Holiday Pies.
Sabrina chortles up a storm. “Please do. He’s forever looking to hear good things about me. I’m his only child, so it’s a direct reflection on how I was raised. My mother and father both worked hard to give me everything I have.”
This coming from a twenty-six-year-old woman who still lives at home and has no problem running up her father’s credit cards. I know all about the lifestyle she’s living because she’s told me so in arduous detail. I shoot a quick glance to Missy who is now unnaturally immersed in rearranging cupcakes on a stand, bouncing them around from one place to the next as if it were a game of checkers. Her eyes flit over to mine, and an undeniable spark jumps from her to me. It’s powerful, electric, and it is nothing I will ever feel for the girl to my right, currently informing my parents that we will most likely be bicoastal.
Mercifully, Dad has a dental appointment that’s due to take place in the next ten minutes, and Mom is quick to usher the two of them out the door. I take advantage of the natural pause by excusing myself for a moment and head over to Missy.
Her lavender gaze matches those petals I purchased, the very ones that found themselves in the wrong hands. I had the entire exchange set up in my mind—me giving Missy the rose—her tearing up with gratitude and then maybe even gifting me another one of those sweet kisses right here in the bakery. Sweetest things going are Mistletoe Winters’ lips. That’s for sure.
I lean in to whisper, my eyes still magnetically pinned to hers. “Meet me behind the bakery in five minutes?”
She bites down on her bottom lip a moment, and she glances to Sabrina as if she were afraid of her.
“Make it ten.” She wrinkles her nose. “You’re not getting away that easily.” She disappears in the back, leaving her perfume to linger, wrapping itself around me like a scarf I never want to take off. I take in a deep lungful of the sugary scent before heading back to the table and find Sabrina on her feet, gathering her purse.
“There’s a boutique down the street that just got in the most fabulous dresses. The auction is just around the corner, and I don’t have a thing to wear. Why don’t we spend the afternoon trying on some of the more revealing numbers?” Her voice is thick and husky as she leans in with suggestive intent.
“I would, but I don’t think they have my size.” I pat my thighs. “I’m cut funny.”
She twitches her cheek. “Fine. I’ll pick out a few extra dresses while I’m at it, though. One for the auction.” Her finger glides over my jaw. “One for Christmas Day.” She caresses my cheek, and I flinch. “One for New Year’s Eve.” Her thumb rubs over my lips with a hint of promise. “And one sultry number I wouldn’t dare wear out of the house in this kind of weather.” A throaty laugh bubbles from her. “In fact, I can model that one for you first. Say this weekend sometime? I’m free Saturday night. It would give us something incredible to look forward to.” She wets her lips as if she were chomping at the bit—and I do believe she is chomping at the bit.
“Actually, I have a thing”—quick, come up with any thing—“with the dog, you know.” Thank God for Noel. And now I know how relieved parents the world over must be when they can use their child as an excuse to get out of just about any unwanted event. I guess children—or in this case pet children—really are a blessing in disguise.
“Ugh.” She bucks as if she might actually be sick and tosses that rose to the table as if it were diseased. “I’ve got an idea for you. Get rid of that thing.” She hacks out a laugh at her own bad joke as she speeds for the door. “I’d better get going before those divas from my book club swoop in and steal all the good stuff. It’s a good thing you’re not going. I’d hate to have one of those alley cats try to sink their claws into you. They can’t be trusted, you know.” She points behind me a moment. “Stay here and hang out with that one all day. She couldn’t steal you away from me if she tried!” She blows me an air kiss, and I pretend to catch it. “Ta-ta for now!”
Missy glides in next to me, and together we watch as Sabrina struts down the street in those sky-high heels.
“That looked brutal. And you’re right. The two of you don’t look serious at all.” She gives a playful frown my way.
“Sorry. I don’t do secondhand roses.”
“Ah.” I toss it back to the table. “I didn’t expect otherwise.”
“Strict orders, huh?” She tilts her head as she continues to bear those violet eyes into mine. I’ve dreamed a thousand dreams about those eyes while I’ve been in New York, and now I know why. I’ve missed them. More than that, I’ve needed to see them live and in person. “Maybe I should take the afternoon off. I’d hate for you to get in trouble with your girlfriend.”
“Ooh.” I slap my chest and whine as if she just shot me. “Maybe you should.” I drape my arm around her shoulders. “I just might show you a good time yet.”
And that’s exactly what I plan on doing—showing Missy a darn good time right here in Gingerbread.
* * *
“Where to?” I ask as we hit the frozen air just outside of the bakery. The sky is dark and heavy, but Main Street looks cheery and bright with its festive décor. Ropes of garland decorate every streetlight, every stop sign—and a cheerful wreath hangs in every window and door as far as the eye can see, each one punctuated with a bright red bow. When Tanner and I were kids, our favorite thing to do was to come down here just before Christmas and listen to the carolers at night. That’s something I’d love to do with Missy, maybe bring Noel with us, too. “You got the afternoon off. You’re the boss.”
She bites down on a smile as her eyes light up. “I do like being the boss.” She takes up my hand and begins racing us up the street, but my full attention is on the fact her warm fingers are holding tight to mine. “The hospital has a donation box for the children’s unit each year. Santa comes to their unit Christmas morning and distributes all of the presents. It’s a really big deal. I like to do my part and add to the magic.” She stops in front of Peabody’s Bookstore. Her entire countenance glows as she pants through a smile. “What better gift to give than books?”