Just Add Mistletoe: Christmas in Gingerbread, Colorado

by Moore, Addison

  She makes a face. “I’m thinking the only funeral to plan would be Graham’s. Nick will want to stay around long enough to commit a proper homicide. So, when are the two of you going to make your debut as a couple? Whenever it is, make sure I’m there.” A mischievous giggle bubbles from her.

  “I seriously doubt we will.” I lean my elbows onto the counter and take in a lungful of flour and sugar. “It doesn’t seem possible for Graham and me to work. Nick and his homicidal intentions aside, Graham has carved out quite a spectacular life for himself in Manhattan. And I have this place.” I cast a quick glance around at the mint green walls, and it feels so homey I’d swear the bakery just gave me a nice, warm hug.

  “I’ll take care of this place. You go to New York and shop on Fifth Avenue for me. That way I can come out every few weeks to inspect your purchases and see how you’re doing.” She gives a sly wink.

  “Trust me, Graham and I are nowhere near shacking up together. And, believe me, that’s not something I would do. New York is a million miles away. I couldn’t just move there.”

  “Not even for love? For true love?”

  Just as I’m about to pipe up once again, Mom breezes in, decked out in a black leather jacket and a pair of matching boots that hug those jeans of hers straight to her knees. My mother has always been a self-proclaimed fashionista, but the cool biker chick outfit she’s sporting this afternoon has me feeling a serious bout of jacket envy.

  “Who’s in love?” Her arms flail every which way as if she were startled. “What’d I miss? When’d it happen?” She shoves a sugar cookie into her mouth and gives it a nervous nibble.

  My mouth falls open once again to refute the claim. I might be in love with Graham Holiday, but there’s no way I’m alerting the presses—and telling my mother would amount to the very same thing. But before I can utter a single word, a redheaded, equally clad in leather, Sabrina Jarrett struts right in with a look of homicidal intent that could rival that of my brother’s should he get wind of that kiss that took place right under his proverbial nose.

  “I’m the one in love.” Sabrina manufactures a short-lived smile for my mother before looking sternly my way. “May I have a word with you, Mistletoe Winters? Alone.”

  Holly mobilizes as if we just received a tornado warning and scuttles Mom out to the café before I can protest. Alone is something I never want to be with Sabrina. It’s no wonder Graham isn’t interested. She’s terrifying to be around once she has you in a room without another living being in sight.

  Sabrina steps in close, her eyes slit to nothing. That gardenia perfume of hers is so overpowering my skin threatens to break out into hives, and I can already feel my throat locking off. It’s a bit ironic that I’m not allergic to a single thing, but in all the years I’ve known Sabrina, she’s elicited this very reaction in me whenever we’re in close proximity. A part of me still wishes New York were a prospect as far as housing for the viper in front of me goes. But I could never do that to Graham. Not now anyway.

  “Ida Bergman works at Peabody’s Bookstore,” she spits out every word as if it were venom.

  Bookstore? Bookstore! My eyes round out for a moment, but I force them to return to their natural size as to not incite suspicion. My breathing grows erratic, and like a trained Navy SEAL, I command my body to take soothing, even breaths. Sabrina Jarrett is a master at smelling fear in people.

  “Oh, really?” I give a few innocent blinks, praying that any skills I might have in the drama department quickly come to the forefront. “Do they need a platter of cookies? Brownies maybe for the employees?” I steal the moment to take a few trotting steps to the other side of the counter. I figure there’s safety in a few hundred pounds of marble between us. “Just about every business on Main Street is having a holiday party this week. You’ll have to excuse me. I need to get these cookies in the van and drive them over to the Boys and Girls Club.”

  Sabrina takes a few stalking steps in my direction. Her jaws set on a scowl, her eyes burning their venom right through me. “Sources say they spotted the two of you leaping around Peabody’s, then skipping up and down Main Street holding hands like a couple of teenagers. Is that true?” That last sentence comes out as more of a roar, and I flinch as if she struck me.

  “No, not at all!” Darn her book club posse for monitoring the mean streets of Gingerbread. “I simply went into Peabody’s to pick up my yearly donation for the children’s ward at the hospital. Graham happened to be there, and he helped me carry out several bags of books. There was no way we could have been holding hands. Our arms were full of enough parchment to furnish an entire Alaskan wilderness.” A thought comes to me. “You know all about that toy drive. Your dad plays Santa for the event every year and distributes the gifts himself. And doesn’t your mother read the children on the unit the Christmas story?” I coo as if I just saw Noel’s sweet face for the very first time.

  Her lips pull into a line. “I don’t care about any of that. I care about Graham and me—as in the super couple you promised me we’d be. Didn’t you win some ridiculous trophy for being the world’s most prolific matchmaker? My relationship is falling apart at the seams. Do something!”

  I swallow hard for two reasons. One, Sabrina Jarrett is yelling at me in a threatening tone. And two, I think I may have just forfeited my title as world’s best matchmaker.

  “Actually”—I hold up a finger, backing up as she slowly edges her way toward me—“I never said I was prolific. And if they were handing out trophies for such a thing, I’m pretty sure all I would come away with is a participation trophy. You know, the kind you get for just showing up?” Right about now, I’m wishing I had a very tangible trophy that I might use to knock her over the head while I make a run for it.

  Sabrina bares her fangs at me, growling the way Noel does when I try to hide her teddy bear. “Listen up, Missy”—she makes my name sound like a putdown—“I’m this close to tripling your rent myself if you make one wayward move toward my boyfriend.”

  Her boyfriend? Wow, it looks like I really did a bang-up job on one end of the equation—the psychotic end that goes by the name of Sabrina Jarrett. She’s obviously in love enough for the both of them. Just perfect. I’ve inadvertently gifted poor Graham a lifelong psychotic of his very own for Christmas. “Come up with some way to get that boy to have a conversation with me. Each time I call he won’t pick up. I’ve sent a thousand text messages, too! And yesterday when I was coming out of the tree lot, I spotted him and he took off in the other direction! Sure, he was chasing that demented overgrown rat the two of you are warring over—and you will so win once I get him back. I assure you of that.” She gives a feverish nod as if to sweeten the pot. “But as for now, our relationship is at a standstill.” Her chest bucks, and I’m half -convinced the leather seams on that skintight jacket are about to burst. “You have to find a way to make this work again.”

  “Okay!” I pick up a spatula as if it were a weapon, and it may have to be. “I know what I need to do, and it just might get the train back on track. But you have to listen to me very carefully.”

  Her mouth gapes as she nods frenetically. “Yes, anything.”

  “Good.” I tick my head to the side, shocked at how easy that was. “I will speak with Graham. It’s vital for me to do so if I’m to ascertain exactly what might be going awry. Don’t worry. I’ll be covert. Sometimes men are simply aloof and have no idea that they’re doing something wrong.” I wince because pretty much everything I’ve just spewed from my lips is a bald-faced lie. “And then I need you to drive out to Holiday Orchards and find his brother.” His brother? I have no clue where my mouth is about to take this, but I’m praying it’s someplace where I get to keep my teeth. I wouldn’t put it past Sabrina to employ those stilettos against me.

  “His brother?” she spits the words out like she might be sick.

  “Yeah, you know. Divide and conquer.” I’m pretty sure that’s not how divide and conquer works, but, let’s face i
t, Sabrina isn’t even getting a participation trophy as far as IQ scores go. “I’ll talk to Graham and see what I find out, and you talk to his brother. There’s not a person on this planet who knows Graham better. They grew up together. He’s practically an insider.” Okay, so I’ve just added another bald-faced lie to the collection. So sue me. And I’m starting to believe when this entire fiasco blows up in my face, Sabrina might just go and do that.

  “Just know this”—my voice hikes a notch as if I were dishing out a threat of my own—“my investigation might take some time—so don’t be surprised if my assessment takes a little longer than anticipated.”

  “Like how long?”

  I give an uncertain shrug. “A week?” That will buy me all the time I need with Graham right up until he boards his private jet back to Manhattan. Oh my goodness! Does Graham have a private jet? Honestly, that just might be a game changer. Maybe I should knock some sense into Sabrina with this spatula after all. There’s no real reason to continue on with this farce—with the exception of the bakery. I openly scowl at the marble island. If it wasn’t for Holly, I might actually play Jarrett roulette with it. Triple my rent. I’m going to kiss Graham twice as much today just to spite her.

  “A week?” She shakes her head as if it were a deal breaker.

  “If you want to speed things along, then I suggest you spend all the time you can with Tanner. And if you can’t find him at the orchard, he’s probably in Cater. If I were you, I’d practically shackle myself to the man. And—for the sake of your love life and my reputation as the world’s most prolific matchmaker, I’ll do the same with Graham.”

  She comes in close, her eyes widening like twin hard-boiled eggs as if she sees right through my little boyfriend-snatching scheme. Not that he was ever hers for me to snatch. Nope. It turns out, Graham has been mine all along. At least that’s what my matchmaker instincts tell me.

  “Perfect!” she bleats so loud it sounds as if a bomb just detonated in the kitchen.

  “Perfect?” I squeak with disbelief.

  “It’s genius actually. The more time we spend with the Holiday boys, the quicker I’ll get my clutches on the right Holiday altogether.” She scrambles toward the café. “I’m headed out to find Tanner asap. And if you’re smart, you’ll be with Graham within the next ten minutes.” She turns, and that narrow-eyed glare of hers is right back on me. “You have until Christmas Eve to repair what’s broken. Or you can kiss your little bakery goodbye.” She takes off, and I place the spatula over my heart and let out a sigh of relief.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fish it out. It’s a text from Graham.

  You up for a quick walk around the lake? Noel says she likes it better when you hold the leash.

  I can’t help but laugh when I read it. I text right back. Meet me at the Boys and Girls Club in fifteen minutes. It’s a date.

  What Sabrina doesn’t know won’t kill her. But as soon as she finds out, she just might kill me—and my little bakery, too.

  * * *

  I don’t dare give Holly the proper rundown on what happened between Sabrina and me. There’s no way I’ll ruin her Christmas by letting her in on the fact her livelihood is in peril. Sure, Tom makes great money as an optometrist, but face it—Gingerbread isn’t all that big, and he’s fixed just about every eyeball within our city limits. If they want to add to their brood, and put Savanah and Baby X through college, they’ll need a thriving second income. And when she finds out that my little matchmaking scheme has backfired on me spectacularly, I might just let her say I told you so—just this once. It’s the least I could do after she realizes she’ll be losing her home. I’ll lose my home, too, and we’ll both end up back with our parents in our old bedrooms. Only she’ll be sharing a twin with Tom and Savanah, and I’ll be in mine with Noel. In theory, my scenario seems far rosier, but in truth, Noel kicks like a mule in her sleep. I’m liable to end up with a broken nose and six cracked ribs. I’m pretty sure Sabrina will find some creative, yet equally destructive, way to make Graham’s life miserable, too. Like flying to New York on her broomstick and tossing a Molotov cocktail through his penthouse window. My God, she’s going to reduce his entire building to cinders, altering the lives of thousands of people, all because I had the urge to teach Graham Holiday a lesson.

  I guess the only one learning a lesson around here is me.

  My little foray into revenge just might cost me everything.

  I try my best to shake Sabrina and her volatile threats out of my mind as I get back to loading the van, but the effort proves impossible. I tell both Jenna and Holly that I’ll do the run myself. As much as I’m looking forward to spending time with Graham this afternoon, I’m deathly afraid of what will happen once Sabrina discovers my little ruse.

  By the time I finish getting the very last platter of sugar cookies into the Boys and Girls Club, I find both Graham and Noel seated on the rear bumper of the van when I get back.

  “Hey, hot stuff.” An ear-to-ear grin springs to my face as I say it. “Can I get a picture with you?”

  Graham’s lids hang low as if he were suddenly trying to seduce me, and, dear God, it takes far less than that to do it. “Would you like it with my clothes on or off?”

  “Gah!” I swat him with my purse as if he were a mugger. “I was talking to Noel. But since you’re here, I don’t see why the three of us don’t take a few selfies by the lake. I hear you can see clear across to Cater. And if I remember correctly, if we stand on the highest peak of the bridge, you can see the smokestack from a certain pie factory that’s about to explode onto the culinary scene as the latest greatest sensation. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Food Channel wanted to do an exposé on you.”

  Graham belts out a laugh as he stands and caresses my cheek with his thumb. “I was thinking about doing a few exposés myself. On you. So much has changed. You’re all grown up, and I want to know everything there is about you. You know, fill in the blanks—tell me what I missed.”

  I bite down on my lip while looking up at this god who has generously chosen to grace my world. “I think we’d better hurry and get to the lake. It sounds like we have a lot of ground to cover.”

  I jump into his truck as we drive to the outskirts of town where an expansive body of water shimmers a fantastic shade of crystalline blue—the exact color of Graham Holiday’s eyes.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I whisper as we get out and marvel as the snow meets the water. “There is nothing more breathtaking than seeing the sky kiss the water. And when you add snow to the equation, the world just becomes that much more enchanting.”

  Graham wraps his arms around my waist from behind and lands a careful kiss just under my ear. “I can think of at least one thing—one person far more breathtaking than any of the above.”

  I spin in his arms and can’t help but bite down a smile. “Noel?”

  He inches back playfully perturbed. “How’d you guess?”

  She nips and barks as if trying to get our attention while tugging wildly at the leash. “Speaking of which”—I take a few steps out with her, and she’s pulling hard to get right into a giant field full of fluffy white powder—“I think she’s a little snow fiend.”

  “Yeah, well, I suppose there are far more nefarious things to covet. Why don’t we head over and make all of her frozen dreams come true?”

  Graham and I wade in ankles deep as Noel all but does a somersault with glee.

  He yanks a pair of gloves out of his jacket and hands them to me. “I’ve got a great idea,” he says before producing yet another pair and donning them himself.

  “Have gloves will travel.” I pull them on, and my fingers instantly warm back to life. “Thank you. This was very thoughtful of you.”

  His left eye comes shy of winking. “Never leave the house without them. You never know when the mood to build a snowman will strike.”

  “Snowman!” I pick up a pile of the white stuff and toss it over our heads, causing frozen chunks of ic
e to pelt us. “It’s on,” I say, bending over and greedily gathering all the snow around me as if it were a scarce commodity. “I’ll make mine ten times bigger than yours, Holiday!”

  “I wasn’t thinking about a competition.” He falls next to me and starts assisting me in the effort. “I was sort of hoping we could work on one together.” His blue eyes latch to mine, and their bold color gives both the lake and the sky a run for their cobalt money. “I was sort of hoping we could do a lot of things together. You know, like a real couple.”

  A breath catches in my throat. “A couple?” My mouth falls open. “Why, Graham Holiday—did you just ask me to be your girlfriend?” I invoke my infamous country accent that I used to drive him insane with way back when. He loved it then, but he would never admit it.

  “Why yes, I did, Sprig. So, what do you say?” His features grow serious, and the air around us stills as if it, too, were anticipating my response. “You in?”

  “I’m in.” I lean forward as if I’m about to plant a good one on him, and deep down I know that if I start, I will never want to stop. “I can build this snowman singlehandedly in less than five minutes!” I shriek, and he laughs right along with me as we slap together the world’s roundest, perhaps most unstable snowman on the planet. I find a pair of black stones for its eyes, and Graham finds a stubby little stick for the nose and branches for its arms. The two of us stand back a moment and admire our work of art, panting and red-faced from the effort.

  Graham slings his arm around my shoulders. “How about we take that picture now of the three of us? We can use it as our Christmas card.”

  A quiet laugh brews in me as I scratch at his chest, my head resting on his shoulder. “That sounds great, but it might not get out until next year. I’m pretty swamped this week.”