by Boone Brux
“He’s very handsome,” Claire whispered. “Is he your beau?”
This was the first time I’d ever been asked that question, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it or how I should answer. “Kind of.”
She patted my hand. “Good for you. It’s not easy getting back on the horse.”
“No, it’s not, but as horses go…”
She giggled. “That’s a good one.”
“All clear,” Nate said, descending the stairs.
“Really?” I eyed him, searching for any hint that he’d encountered Fred. “Nothing?”
“Nope. Everything is locked up tight.”
“Well, I’m relieved. I’m sure I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”
“Me too.” If anything had been amiss, Nate would have taken care of it. Since he wasn’t concerned, then I wouldn’t be either. “Okay then, we’ll let you get back to wrapping.”
“Why don’t you use the front door this time?” She motioned toward the entryway. “That way you don’t have to traipse through the snow.”
“Good idea,” Nate said.
At the front door, I stopped and turned to Claire. “Glad it turned out to be nothing.”
“Me too. And thank you for checking on me.”
“Sure.” Feeling particularly neighborly, I added. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m usually around.”
“Well, there is one thing.” Pursing her lips, she fluttered her eyelashes and pointed to the ceiling.
My eyes skated upward and landed on the biggest ball of mistletoe I’d ever seen. How had I missed it? “Oh.” I glanced at Nate. “Mistletoe.”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “A lot of mistletoe.”
“You’ve been caught.” She bounced up and down, clapping. “You’ve got to kiss. It’s the law.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Nate mumbled.
“It’s Claire’s law.” She flicked her finger at us. “Kiss.”
As much as I liked kissing Nate, doing it in front of my neighbor was way too creepy. Wanting to get it over with, I lifted onto my toes and gave him a peck on the lips.
“Boo! Hiss!” she taunted. “That wasn’t a kiss.”
Okay, jeez, nothing like having your kissing technique heckled.
“She’s right,” Nate said, wrapping his arm around my waist and drawing me to him. “We can do better.”
His mouth captured mine, eliciting a squeak of surprise from me. Very aware of Claire gawking at us, I braced my hands against his chest and gave a little push. To counter my escape effort, he hugged me tighter and deepened his kiss. When his tongue slipped into my mouth, my resistance faded. My hands drifted up and around his neck, and I was only vaguely aware of Claire’s whooping cheer. I’m not sure how long we stood with our lips locked, but he finally eased me back, which was good because I hadn’t planned on letting go, and he set me away from him. I wobbled a bit and blinked up at him.
“Wow,” I said.
“Wow is right!” Claire chimed in. “Now that’s what I call a mistletoe kiss.”
Red crept up Nate’s neck and he cleared his throat. “Time to go,” he grumbled, pulling open the door. “Merry Christmas, Claire.”
“Merry Christmas, Nate.” She smirked as if privy to some inside joke. “Merry Christmas, Lisa.”
“Happy New Year.” Claire’s house had suddenly become stifling. I stepped onto her front porch and drew in a deep chilly breath. “Have fun at your sister’s.”
“Thank you. I will.” With a final wave, she closed the door.
“That was a little awkward,” I said, picking my way down her icy steps.
“Ya think?”
“So, the house checked out?” At the bottom of the stairs, I looped my arm through his and shuffled down the walk. “No sign of Fred?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s so weird. He said Claire was his unfinished business.” Concentrating on each step, I stared at my feet. “I wonder where he went?”
Nate drew us to a stop. “I have a pretty good idea.”
My head snapped to his face, but he wasn’t looking at me. I followed the direction of his gaze. There floating in my driveway hovered Fred.
Chapter Eight
We approached at a cautious pace, not wanting to spook him.
“Hey, Fred.” I stopped at the end of my Suburban. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty good, I think.” He hooked his thumbs on the edges of his pockets and rocked heel to toe.
“Good.” I nodded. “So, we didn’t see you at Claire’s. Did you visit her.”
“Oh, yes. I went and saw her.” His smile held a hint of sadness, and he shrugged. “But she didn’t see me.”
“What do you mean,” I asked, shaking my head.
“I mean, I was standing right in front of her, but she couldn’t see me. All the other ladies I visited did, but not Claire.” He chuckled. “It’s actually funny.”
“Really?” Though I wanted to get closer, I stood my ground. If I had any hope of crossing Fred over tonight, I couldn’t make a single mistake. “How so.”
“It’s funny because I honestly believed she was my unfinished business. I thought I’d bestow a Christmas miracle on Claire.” He held his arms out. “Let her see me in all my Christmas Spirit glory.”
“I take it that didn’t happen?” Nate asked.
“Quite the opposite.” He slipped his hands into his pants pockets and rocked back on his heels again. “When I realized she couldn’t see me, no matter what I tried, something in my brain clicked. All the murky and muddled memories came rushing back to me. Claire wasn’t the one who got away, she wasn’t my unfinished business.” He laughed again. “She was the one making my new Santa suit for the Christmas parade. I was supposed to pick it up this week.”
“Wait.” I stepped toward him. “All of this nonsense was over a Santa suit?”
“Just the last part. All the business with my lady friends…” He winked at me. “That was just as important.”
“Ugh!” I kicked a chunk of ice that had fallen off the car. “So, the note you made next to her name? A perfect fit didn’t mean the perfect woman?”
“Hardly.” Another belly laugh rumbled from him. “It meant she’s a great seamstress. You have to admit, it’s very funny.”
“Frickin’ hilarious.” Anger pushed me forward, and I marched toward him, stopping inches away. “Let me tell you something else that’s pretty funny. You’re crossing over.” I jabbed him in the shoulder. “Right now. So, don’t even try to duck out of here with your cutesy finger beside your nose gimmick. Understand?”
“I am ready to cross.”
“Oh no.” I waved my finger in front of his face. This Santa had pushed me as far as I was willing to be pushed. “You don’t tell me that you’re ready to cross. I’m telling you.” Punctuating each word with a finger poke, I jabbed his shoulder again. “You. Will. Cross. Because I say so.”
“I understand.” He gave me a courtly bow. “And I approve.”
Approve? What wasn’t he understanding about the fact that I ran the show? “Hal!”
The thin pink line announcing my porter’s arrival elongated and widened directly behind Fred. Now wedged between the two of us, there would be no escape.
The door of the elevator slid open, and Hal emerged in full green satin fabulousness. “Liiiisa,” he drawled, “I see you finally bagged Santa.” Though his mocking tone should have worked my last nerve, hearing Hal’s voice had the opposite effect. “I was starting to doubt your reaping abilities.”
I harrumphed and then laughed. “Me too.” The tension knotting my shoulders eased, and I inhaled a calming breath, blowing it out and letting go of my frustration. “But here he is.”
“Excellent.” Hal doffed the satin green top hat and gestured for Fred to enter. “Your sleigh awaits, sir.”
“Now then, that’s more like it,” Fred said, strolling into the elevator. He cocked his head and smiled. “Christmas carol
s. Nice touch.”
“I thought so,” Hal said. He turned back to me. “If that’s all—”
“Wait.” I held up my hands to stall his departure. “I have something for you.”
He arched a black brow. “What is it?”
“You’ll see.” Luckily, I’d been too tired to unload the car when I got home. Fishing around in the back seat, I found the gift shop bag holding the mug I’d bought and handed it to Hal. “Merry Christmas.”
He stared at the bag but didn’t touch it. “It’s a sack.”
“The gift is inside.” I grabbed his hand and shoved the bag into it. “Seriously, have you never gotten a gift before?”
“No.”
His answer shocked me. “Really? Nobody has ever given you anything?”
“No.”
“That’s just sad,” Fred piped up.
Hal’s gaze lifted and speared me. Maybe I should have given him the mug when we were alone. Too late now. I pushed forward. “Well, now you have. Go on. Open it.”
He half sighed, half growled and reached into the bag. Holding up the gift, he stared at it. “It’s a mug.”
“Yeah, for your coffee.”
“I don’t drink coffee.”
“Okaaay,” I said, “Then it’s for the blood of your enemies or tears of the lost souls.”
His brows lifted as if he liked that idea. “Hmm.”
“Did you read it?” I pointed to the bright yellow writing. “World’s Best Grandpa.”
“Yes, how clever.” He dropped the mug back into the bag. “And ironic.”
“I thought so.” I held out my hand. “But if you don’t like it, I’ll take it back.”
Instead of answering, he set the top hat back on his head and stepped into the elevator, taking the mug with him.
As the elevator door slid shut, I heard Fred call, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”
A second later, they were gone, leaving Nate and I standing alone in the driveway. I turned to him. “I think he liked it.”
“You’ve got balls, Carron. I’ll give you that much.”
“You know what else I have?” I said, sidling up to him. “An empty house.” Pressing my hands against his chest, I leaned in. “Wanna go make a little Christmas magic of our own?”
In answer, he swept me off my feet and carried me up the front stairs.
Christmas, it really was the most wonderful time of the year.
About Boone
Boone Brux is a USA Today Bestselling Author. Her books range from high fantasy to romantic comedy.
She lives in the icy region of Alaska, where she writes full time with her husband, two daughters, and a myriad of animals. Always looking for the next adventure, it’s not unusual to find her traversing the remotest parts of the Alaskan bush. No person or escapade is off limits when it comes to weaving real life experiences into her books.
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