Mistletoe Mischief

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Mistletoe Mischief Page 8

by Karice Bolton


  “That’s right,” my mom said, pulling the cinnamon rolls out of the oven. “You just ignore the plague slowly eating away at your body and contaminate the rest of us.” The sparkle in my mom’s eyes told us she was kidding. We all knew she would have gone to Cassie’s and hauled her out of bed herself if she didn’t show up on Christmas day.

  “So, are you feeling any better?” I asked, sitting down next to my sister.

  “I’d say about a fraction of a percent better.” She groaned and wiped her bright red nose again.

  I chuckled and took a sip of the orange juice I’d poured earlier. “Is that what happens when you’re in love with a finance guy? Everything is numbers, decimals, and percentages?”

  My sister laughed and nodded. “I suppose so. Speaking of love—”

  I held up my hand and shook my head frantically. “Don’t even go there.”

  “Go where, precisely?” She feigned innocence. “You mean don’t bring up Colton McAlister? The boy who ripped your heart out?”

  “He didn’t have my heart to begin with,” I corrected. “We’d barely—”

  “Young love is completely raw and can leave a mark,” my mom said, placing a huge gooey roll on a plate for my sister.

  “It wasn’t love.” I got back up and made my way to the cinnamon rolls to help my mom dish up.

  “You had feelings for him all through junior high and high school. You ran around in the same crowd . . .” My sister’s voice trailed off right before she let out a gigantic sneeze.

  “Whatever,” I grumbled as I put a roll on a plate for my dad. “I’m just saying.” I stopped and laughed. “I don’t know what I’m saying. What was the question?”

  My mom chuckled. “Grandma said she caught you two kissing last night.”

  I rolled my eyes, and my sister’s eyes widened. “No way.”

  “Twice,” my mom added.

  “Does that woman have no decency? No sense of privacy?” I grinned, feeling my cheeks warm at the memory of the mistletoe. “What kind of peeping Tom masquerades as a grandma?”

  “Well, it was her house,” my sister pointed out, which only landed her another eye roll. “So, how were they?”

  “How were what?” I took the cinnamon roll plate I’d prepared for my dad and hollered for him as I quickly made my through the kitchen. “Your cinnamon roll is ready.”

  “What about presents?” he called back.

  “You know the rules,” my mom yelled. “Cinnamon rolls, then presents.”

  “I’d gladly take a roll,” Ken echoed as I found him and my father huddled in front of the fireplace discussing some football game that was coming on later.

  My dad was still in his plaid pajamas, and Ken was dressed in a pair of fitted grey sweats and a matching zipped sweatshirt. I had never seen him look so dressed down and it was kind of nice. The furry slippers he wore were a nice touch.

  I handed my dad the cinnamon roll and his eyes filled with joy. “The best this side of the Mississippi.”

  “Who has them better on the other side?” I asked, puzzled, and Ken laughed as my mom handed him a plate with another gooey roll.

  My sister came rolling into the family room with her own cinnamon roll and beelined toward Ken, sitting next to him on the leather couch. She let out an exasperated sigh.

  “Gina’s avoiding my questions,” my sister informed us.

  My dad laughed and took a bite of cinnamon roll. “Is that too unusual, though?”

  “Not in the slightest,” my mom agreed. “But it is a juicy topic.”

  “What’s a juicy topic?” my grandma asked, coming into the room from her quick nap upstairs.

  “The kiss you felt obligated to tell my sister about.” I flashed a playful scowl in her direction but tried not to laugh. She’d changed into a red and green plaid sweater that had ribbon woven in the shape of Santa and bells jangling off the sleeves. She was definitely one-of-a-kind.

  “Well, honey.” She smiled and sat in the rocking chair next to the television. “It wasn’t just one kiss, now was it?”

  “You know, you really can make a thirty-something woman feel like she’s back in grade school.” I smiled, trying not to think about Colton. They’d sniff it right out of me if they thought I was at all distracted by him.

  My mom came back into the family room with a cinnamon roll for me and shook her head. “You poor dear.”

  “So, who kissed who, and how could this have happened in the short time your car broke down and you wound up stuck at your grandma’s?” My dad asked.

  “I take offense.” Grandma laughed. “No one is stuck with me. They’re honored to be in my presence.”

  “True,” Cassie and I said at the same time.

  I felt my dad’s eyes on me and I took a deep breath.

  “Did Mom not tell you? It was Colton McAlister who came to my rescue yesterday.”

  “Thanks for throwing me under the bus,” my mom joked, taking a bite of her roll.

  “My pleasure.”

  “A McAlister actually stopped when they saw someone stranded on the side of the road?” My dad’s brow arched and Ken laughed in agreement.

  “Colton did.” I nodded.

  “What was in it for him?” my dad sat back a little farther in his chair, and I noticed a twitch in his jaw muscle.

  “Nothing that I know of.” I glanced at my grandma, who was studying her son carefully. She was definitely revving up for something. “I mean, he got a warm house to wait in while the pass opened up, but between driving us all the way down here to drop us off and then driving all the way back up the pass, I can’t imagine there was much of anything in it for him.”

  “Except that he got to spend time with your beautiful daughter,” my grandma spoke up.

  “There’s that.” I laughed, noticing my father’s expression remained unchanged.

  “The McAlisters aren’t—”

  “Did you know what the sons did to those apartments their father built?”

  We didn’t need to mention names and addresses. The moment my father’s hardware store got bulldozed, the site became known as those apartments.

  “Raise the rent?” my dad asked sarcastically.

  “The complete opposite, really.” My grandma rocked back and forth in her chair, clearly happy she got to divulge this information. “They turned them into subsidized senior living.”

  “Is that so?” My father pressed his lips together.

  “That’s what Colton said.” I nodded. “He isn’t proud of his father’s way of doing business. In fact, he and his brothers have done a lot of giving back and—”

  “Which you already know,” my mom said, shooting my dad a warning look.

  “Anyway, it doesn’t really matter.” I glanced at my sister, who even with heavy cold medicine flowing through her system seemed completely alert when it came to gossip about Colton. “We happened to kiss. I’m sure we were both nostalgic. It’s the holidays. You know how these things go.”

  “Oh, no,” my grandma said, standing up from the rocking chair. “I’m not letting this go. Those McAlister boys are even opening up a memory care unit. They’re doing good and I’m proud to know that what my husband and you worked for didn’t just get bulldozed down for a money-grubbing family. I’m happy to see the reins being passed down to men who want to make a difference.”

  “I have to admit that it takes the sting out a little bit.” My dad’s lip curled slightly.

  And before I knew it, packages were being passed around, gifts were opened, and laughter was heard throughout the house. It wasn’t until my phone rang that I realized hours had gone by and Colton must have arrived at his family’s house.

  “Whoa,” he said into the phone the moment I answered. “How many people do you have at the house?”

  I looked around the room. “Six, counting me. Why?”

  “It sounds like a rocking party. It’s so loud.” He laughed and the sound filled me with joy. “Well, we have about eight
een people here and it’s nothing like that. It sounds nice.”

  “It is.” I looked around the room, love filling me as I thought about the family I’d left behind when I moved to Washington. I missed Colorado. I missed my family.

  “How about I’ll show you mine if you show me yours? I’ll take video.”

  “Huh?” I snapped right back to the conversation with Colton. “Show me what with video?” It was Christmas, after all, and even if it weren’t, I was smart enough not to send those kinds of images over the phone.

  “Video of my family’s Christmas.” Silence sat between us for a second before he broke out laughing. “Wow, you have a dirty little mind, Gina.”

  “I do not.” I giggled and caught the eye of my sister.

  “So, is it a deal?” he asked again.

  “Sure. I’ll send it right over.”

  “Okay. Me too.” He drew in a breath. “I wanted you to know I made it safe.”

  “Thank you. I would have worried.”

  “And that I really enjoyed spending time with you.”

  “I did too, which I can’t even believe I’m admitting.”

  He laughed again, and my entire body warmed. “I know. Who could ever think a McAlister and a Tuckerman could actually learn to like one another?”

  I always had a hunch.

  “So, what do you say? Trade videos because yours sounds a heck of a lot more fun than mine.”

  “Only if you like loud, rambunctious adults,” I warned.

  “It just so happens that I do.”

  “Then it’s a deal. I’ll send it right over.”

  “Gina . . .” His voice lowered. “What are you doing New Year’s Eve?”

  “Actually, my parents are hosting a party.” I glanced at my dad, who was far too immersed in whatever gadget Ken had bought for him. “I’d like it if you’d come.”

  “There won’t be shotguns pointed in my direction if I show up?” he asked teasingly.

  “There weren’t this morning,” I reminded him.

  “Because your father was sleeping.”

  “You have a point,” I teased. “But no. It’ll be fine. Just bring your charming self and all will be fine.”

  “Charming?” he asked.

  “To some.” I cleared my throat. “Like my grandma. She’s easily fooled.”

  “You’d better watch it, young lady,” my grandma said from across the room.

  “Boy, she doesn’t miss a thing, does she?” Colton chuckled.

  “No, she really doesn’t.” I didn’t want to hang up, but I also didn’t want to miss out on my family.

  “Send me the video and details about New Year’s Eve.” His voice softened. “And maybe we can even fit something in between now and then?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “And don’t get rid of the mistletoe,” he instructed.

  “I’ll make sure to keep it hanging.” I paused. “But that might be sure to bring the shotgun out.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  My stomach slid into a happy knot as I thought about getting to see Colton again, but a rumble from outside told me my Subaru had arrived.

  “Sounds like the tow truck is here,” I told Colton.

  “I’ll let you go. Just make sure to send me the video and I’ll send mine.”

  “Okay. Talk soon.” I hung up and saw five pairs of eyes staring back at me.

  “New Year’s Eve?” My sister’s brow arched. “I told you to watch out for that Colton McAlister.”

  “He’s coming here, is he?” My dad stood up and glanced out the window to see my Subaru and the tow truck.

  “That’s the plan.” I stood and followed him outside, where we quickly took care of business and let the poor tow truck man go on his way.

  As we walked back inside, my dad stopped me in the foyer.

  “So, you think this Colton McAlister is a good guy? Decent?” His eyes narrowed on mine.

  “He seems to be, or he at least seems to try to be decent.”

  My dad nodded and looked toward the living room. “He does know he’d better never mess with my daughter again, right?”

  “I have a funny feeling Grandma made that extra clear to him.”

  “Good. It’ll make my job a lot easier.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I was laughing so hard tears were streaming down my cheeks.

  “I can’t believe you can have that many people in a room at once and be able to hear a pin drop.” I slid the video off my screen and glanced up at Colton, who seemed as amused as me.

  “What did I tell you?” He shook his head. “It’s the weirdest thing. The family is just silent.”

  “It’s like everyone is playing that mannequin game or whatever it was where people stayed frozen.”

  “Yeah, only most of my family calls it living.” He chuckled.

  “Did my video scare you off?” I asked.

  “No. It made me wish I was there even more.”

  His words did all kinds of crazy things to me. “You wished you were at my house on Christmas?”

  “And every day after.” He took a sip of coffee.

  “You certainly know what to say.” I grinned.

  The video I sent him was right after my dad and I came in from outside and my sister was busy singing in her nasally voice while my grandma and mother were debating—or arguing—about whose method for cooking the ham was best, all while Ken and my father yelled at the television or one another with the play by plays. I’d spun the phone around and asked him if he was still sure he wanted to come over on New Year’s Eve, to which he responded, hell, yeah.

  “This is a really good place,” I said, taking a bite of my turkey and cranberry sandwich. “I can’t believe how much has changed since I was here last.”

  “Funny how that works.” His eyes connected with mine. “People changed, the town changed . . .”

  “All for the better.” I glanced around the small café. There were only a few tables filled, but that was because it was a couple of hours past lunchtime. “I’m really going to miss this town.”

  “The town is going to miss you.” He reached over and grabbed my hand. “Especially one person in the town.”

  “Who’s that?” I squeezed his hand back, reveling in all the emotion flooding through me.

  “Me.” He drew his hand back and sat back in the chair.

  “If you’re going to miss the town so much, why not move back? Your grandma mentioned your family wanted you to run the store.”

  “I always thought I might someday, but I’ve got an entire life in Washington. I love the little house I rent, my friends are incredible, and I have to confess I have a really easy job.” I smiled and let out a silent sigh. “But I do miss home. I miss my parents and seeing my grandma.” I shook my head, not wanting to think about things.

  “Speaking of . . .” He twisted his mouth into a peculiar pucker and all I could think about was how sweet and full his lips looked.

  “Yeah? You want me to set you up with grams?” I teased.

  “Well, that is an option.” He smiled and took another sip of coffee. “I probably need more caffeine before I start down this path.”

  “What path?” I asked, confused.

  “So, I looked up Lester and Wilma back at the senior housing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “And they did pass away. They actually died thirty-six minutes apart in the apartment.”

  “When?” I already knew the answer. Their son told us, but I didn’t want to let my mind go there.

  “Precisely when their son said.” He shifted in his seat. “I can tell you it wasn’t Christmas morning.”

  “I can’t even wrap my head around this.” I stared at Colton in genuine disbelief. “That has to put us into the crazy bin, right?”

  He pushed his lips into a frown, and I noticed several little lines forming around his eyes. There wasn’t a look this guy couldn’t pull off, sexy, brooding, confused—they all loo
ked good on him.

  “And it sounded like we weren’t the only people they visited.” He let out a deep sigh.

  “Why us?” I asked.

  “Why not? We’re two young people, attractive, with a lot to offer,” he teased.

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.” His expression fell blank. “What if they helped push us together a little and we didn’t even know it?”

  “You think?”

  “I mean, you no longer seem to want to bite my head off every time I look at you now.” He smiled. “And I don’t feel like my life is in danger if I’m near a cliff.”

  “I told you I’d never do a cliff. I meant that.” I grinned and let my mind race with wild ideas about Wilma and Lester. “Well, if we’re going to take this seriously, I’d say the message was to keep doing the work you’re doing.”

  “Interesting.”

  “What’s interesting?”

  “The message I got was that love doesn’t need to be complex.” He smiled. “That either there’s a spark to begin with or not. Do you feel that spark?”

  His words froze me in place. Never in a million years did I expect to be sitting across from Colton McAlister during my holidays and talking about feeling a spark.

  “It’s hard for me to miss,” I confessed. I bit my lip and pulled my hand back. “But I’ve played around with my heart too many times. I’m more realistic now. For instance, here’s a red flag right off the bat.”

  Colton’s features pulled together as he listened carefully.

  “I live in Washington and you live in Colorado.”

  “I don’t think that’s a red flag, Gina. I think that’s a matter of proximity and an excuse.”

  “An excuse?”

  “Yeah. If you box yourself in really tightly, you won’t ever have to worry about opening yourself up to get hurt again. By telling yourself that your living in Washington and me in Colorado ought to squash it before it even begins is sad. Some might even say depressing.”

  “But I’m just being honest with myself.”

  “Are you, though?” He tilted his head slightly and his eyes flecked with curiosity. “Didn’t you say you missed your family? Hell, I’m already missing grandma, and I only saw her a couple of days ago.”

 

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