Mistoletoe Surprise: An Older Man Younger Woman Christmas Romance

by Crowne, K. C.

  “You got it.”

  Dad eagerly went to it, preparing the coffee. As strange as I felt about coming back, it made me pretty darn happy to see him again. And his efforts at making me feel welcome were going a long way. While he made the coffee, I let my gaze drift toward the window over the white basin of the sink. It was a grey, overcast day, a touch of early fall chill in the air. Looked like rain could be on the horizon.

  Moments later Dad set two cups of steaming coffee on the table and sat down. I picked up my mug with both hands, Dad watching me out of the corner of my eye.

  “What’s up?” I asked, turning my attention to him.

  “Nothing. Just can’t believe my girl’s back.”

  I couldn’t hold how I really felt any longer. “Yeah, I can’t really believe it either.” There was sadness in my voice, and judging by how quickly Dad’s face fell, it was clear he’d picked up on it.

  He set down his coffee and reached over the table and took my hand. “How you feeling, Sprout?”

  My gaze drifted down to the table, staring at nothing in particular. “To be honest? Bummed. Don’t get me wrong, Dad. I’m happy to see you. It’s probably the only bright spot of this whole thing. But I already miss New York. And…”

  “And?”

  “And I kind of feel like a total failure, like I did something wrong and don’t know what it was.”

  “Now, you know that’s not true – you’re the furthest thing from a failure. And you’ve got the grades to prove it.”

  “Grades meant something in school. But out in the real world, no one cared about any of that.” I shook my head, as if still in disbelief. “I don’t know what the hell happened. One minute I was walking out of NYU thinking everything was going to work out great, nothing could stop me. But then I blinked and all of a sudden I had no money in the bank and rent was late and there was nothing to do but leave.”

  “That hard to find a job?”

  “I mean, I was able to find some gigs at coffee shops and restaurants. But the hours were so irregular, and I had to only work part-time so I still had time to look for the kind of job I wanted. But it never happened. The last few months have been nothing but me stressing and wondering how I would get enough money to make the next rent payment.”

  Dad gave my hand another squeeze. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything? You know I would’ve helped.”

  “I know you would’ve – but that’s the problem. I wanted to make it on my own and not have to rely on my dad like so many other people my age there.”

  He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “That’s my Cindy – always stubborn, always independent.”

  “I wanted to do it my way. Not to mention…”

  Dad cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Not to mention what?”

  “I mean, New York’s expensive. And it’s not like it’s in the budget for you.”

  “Baby, I can afford it. Sure, I’d have to tighten things up around here. But I’d make it happen. Anything for you.”

  “That’s exactly it – you’d sell this farm and live under a highway if it meant making sure I was OK. And I didn’t want to put you through that.”

  Another smile. “Nice to hear you were thinking of me, kiddo.”

  “Always was.”

  Silence passed as we sipped our coffees, Dad finally breaking it. “So!” he clapped his hands together. “Now that you’re back, what’s the plan? Thinking of taking it easy for a while?”

  “Not even a little. I wanna go out immediately and start picking up some applications. The sooner I find somewhere to work, the sooner I can start saving money to get back to New York. Thinking five thousand dollars should work – if I really bust my butt, I can have it in a few months.”

  Dad’s eyes slightly widened. “You’re already thinking about moving back?”

  “Sure. What else would I do?” As soon as the question left my mouth, I realized the answer.

  “I don’t know,” Dad said. “Maybe stay here for a while, give living here in a town another shot.”

  It killed me to see him look so despondent. He hadn’t been the same since Mom had died, and I knew he was torn between wanting to let his little girl go off and be her own woman and wanting to keep me at home where he could always make sure I was safe.

  “Dad, this is what I want. I mean, I’m gonna be licking my wounds for a while, sure, but that’s the plan.”

  He nodded. “I get it, I get it. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping being back for a few months might get you to reconsider. But how about this – at least put off the application hunting for a day. Let’s spend some time together tonight, you and me, before you start New York attempt number two.”

  I smiled. “OK. I can do that.”

  Dad smiled back. But a moment later his eyes flashed as if he’d realized something he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten.

  “What?” I asked. “What is it?”

  “I almost forgot. You remember Craig Johannsson?”

  How the hell could I forget Craig Johannsson? He was Dad’s best friend, and possibly the man I’d been most attracted to in my entire life. Tall, built, handsome as hell – the man was a dream. Craig was all muscles, his hair sandy blond, his eyes sharp and green, and his mouth perpetually twisted into a crafty smile, like the man was up to something. I’d had a crush on the guy ever since I started liking boys.

  Really, it was him that made me realize I even did like them. One day he’d come over to have some beers with Dad and watch the Steelers game. I had to have been around eleven at the time. I remember coming out to ask Dad about one thing or another and stopping in my tracks at the sight of Craig. Sure, I’d seen him plenty of times before. But that time was different. I remember staring at those eyes, that face, those muscles. I’d never looked at a man like that before.

  And really, I hadn’t since. No man had ever done it for me the way Craig had. Even my first time masturbating was inspired by him. And when I was a teenager, I always had the fantasy of losing my virginity to him.

  And I was still a virgin. Maybe I’d still have my chance.

  “You OK there, kid?”

  I shook my head and returned to the moment. “Yeah, just got a little distracted. Anyway, what were you gonna say?”

  “I was talking with him the other day over some drinks. He mentioned that he’d had a few hands on his main farm leave over the last few months and was having a hard time replacing them. I knew you were coming back to town, so…”

  My eyes widened. “You didn’t tell him I needed a job, did you?”

  He raised his palms, gesturing for me to take it easy. “I didn’t say anything – just noted it, is all.”

  The words “main farm” stuck in my head. The other thing about Craig Johannsson was that he was rich as hell – maybe the most successful farmer in the region. He had a bunch of properties to his name, and when I went off to NYU, he’d been doing more overseeing than actual hands-on work.

  “I don’t know. Don’t know if that’s the kind of work for me.”

  “Now, I know you’re more the computer-work type. But there’s something to be said for a day out in the field. Good for clearing your head. And you’d keep busy.”

  “I still don’t know. I was hoping for something downtown, like maybe a job at the Tea Kettle waiting tables.”

  “That could work too. But Craig pays his employees well. You put in a few months there and you should have more than enough money to go back if that’s what you still want to do.”

  “It’s what I want to do. But I don’t know if working on the farm in the winter is the way to do it.”

  Dad gave the matter a moment’s thought. “How about this – I talk to him tonight after we go out to dinner. I get the rundown on the job and report back to you. If the job hunt tomorrow doesn’t go so hot, you’ve got that option. Sound good?”

  Dad always had a way of making his ideas seem like the most reasonable thing to do. And he had a
point – if I was planning to save money and get my butt back to New York as quickly as possible, I couldn’t afford to be choosy when it came to work.

  “Alright, Dad – let’s do it.”

  He smiled. “Sounds like a plan. But for now, I want to hear all about what my girl’s been up to. Preferably over some burgers at the Tea Kettle.”

  I smiled. But before I had a chance to say anything else, the image of Craig Johannsson appeared in my mind. I couldn’t say why, but I had a feeling I would be seeing a lot more of the man while I was back.

  Not that it’d be a bad thing. No, not at all.

  Chapter 3

  Craig

  I tossed back the last sip of my bourbon, my two fingers already in the air to signal to Mike, the bartender at the local bar, the Alamo, for another. He nodded and had another one in front of me before my glass even touched the bar top. Country music filled the air, mixing with the din of conversation from the few dozen other people in the bar. The sharp clack of pool balls knocking together cut through it all from time to time.

  The buzz was finally fucking starting to kick in – only took three bourbons to get there. But it was Friday and I was ready for a hell of a night out. It was just the thing I needed after another week of administrative bullshit on my properties.

  “How’s the farm life treating you, bud?” Mike leaned against the other side of the bar, his arms folded in front of him.

  I let out a snort. “Hardly call it ‘the farm life’ these days.”

  “That right?”

  Mike was a middle-aged guy like me, though a hell of a lot softer around the middle. Not that I gave a shit about whether other guys stayed in good shape. But it made me think of how little time I’d had to do any of the physical work that I loved. Made me wonder if was going to go soft like most men my age.

  “Been running around like the chicken who lost his head trying to take care of whatever situation pops up at the properties. I swear, if it’s not one damn thing, it’s another.”

  “Pitfalls of success, I suppose,” he mused. “But what’s stopping you from getting someone else to do that stuff? Hire an assistant or two and worry about more important things.”

  It was a sore subject, and with most people I wouldn’t have gone into it. But I’d known Mike for years, and he already had most of the story. “Quinn.”

  Mike nodded as if he understood everything. “Still Quinn, huh?”

  Quinn was my wife. Late wife, to be accurate. We’d been married for damn near ten years before breast cancer took her suddenly and swiftly. Seemed like one day she was her usual smartass, sexy-as-hell self and the next she was wasted away to nothing in some damn hospital bed. The thought of her was enough to make me throw back my drink and order another – which I damn certainly did.

  “Still Quinn,” I murmured as I wrapped my fingers around my fresh drink.

  “I get it. You and her were fucking perfect, bud.”

  I nodded, knowing he was right. I’d tried to lose myself in one-night stands and other meaningless sex over the last few years. But no woman even came close to filling the hole she’d left. And none probably ever would.

  “Yeah, we were. But not even getting into that – she was the best fucking administrative partner a business owner could hope for. We weren’t just marriage partners, you know. And I’ve been spending the last few fucking years trying to even begin to figure out how she was so damn good at doing what she did.”

  “Not working out for you?”

  “Not even close. Starting to piss me the fuck off. At myself, mostly.”

  Right as I took a sip of my drink, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out to see that it was Drew Samuels, one of my closest friends – if not my closest. We’d always been good pals, but both of us losing our wives around the same time ended up forming a bond that was about as strong as they got. Maybe one of the only good things to come out of the last few shitty years.

  “I’ll let you get that,” Mike said, nodding and heading off to attend to other customers.

  I hit the button on the screen and lifted the phone to my ear. “What’s up, bud?”

  “Hey!” Drew’s voice was chipper as ever. One of the things I liked about him. I could be an intense kind of dude at times, but we seemed to balance each other out. “What’s going on?”

  “That’s what I asked you,” I said through a grin. “Don’t answer questions with questions.”

  He laughed on the other end. Another cool thing about the guy – he got my dry sense of humor. Most people tended to think I was being an asshole when I cracked jokes, though they wouldn’t necessarily be wrong. “Not much. Cindy finally came back to town. Two of us just got back from dinner at the Tea Kettle.”

  Cindy Samuels – Drew’s daughter. I’d known the kid for years, and in my eyes that’s what she’d always be. Sure, she’d grown up into a fine-looking young woman. But that didn’t matter. Even if she wasn’t my best friend’s kid, she was still way too young to be thinking about her like that. Hell, the girl was half my age and I’d known her since she was a ten-year-old in braces. Felt weird even to consider the idea of her as a woman in that way.

  “Oh, that right? Didn’t know today was the day. How is the kid?”

  “Great. So damn happy to see her again.”

  Drew’s happiness was obvious in the tone of his voice. He’d taken the death of his wife hard as hell, and his daughter was one of the few bright spots in his life. Me, I had my boy Kyle. But at seven, he was still very much a kid - wouldn’t have to worry about him leaving the nest anytime soon. Right at that moment he was home with Jenny, our usual babysitter. That meant I could have the night off and chill, have a few drinks and get ready for another damn week.

  “That’s good to hear, dude. Know you’ve been looking forward to seeing her.”

  “Yeah, I have.”

  A beat of silence passed, and I knew right away this wasn’t a call about coming to hang out or seeing what was up. Drew didn’t exactly have guile, as my mama used to say, and when he had something on his mind it was plain as day. Another difference between the two of us – I could keep things close to the chest. Good way to be, but it sometimes got me into trouble, especially with Quinn.

  “OK, bud. Let’s hear what’s on your mind.”

  He sighed as if he’d been found out and understood there was no reason to lie about it. “Cindy’s been back for less than a day and she’s already talking about going back to New York.”

  “Girl’s always been ambitious, have to give her that.”

  “It’s true, it’s true. And as much as I’d wish she’d stay, I know there’s no point in trying. If she wants to go back, she’s going back – nothing I can do about it.”

  “Let’s get to the part about what you really wanna say.”

  “Oh, right.” Drew had a habit of dancing around what he needed to get out. Yet another difference – I always made sure to get right to the point, never had time for bullshitting. “Point is, she needs a job. And I know you were thinking of doing some hiring at your places…”

  Now here was an interesting turn of developments. Me, hiring Drew’s little girl. The kid was kind of a mystery to me. Not that she was especially cagey, but the girl had always had her head in a book, for school or for fun. She’d been the type who’d wanted to get out of her too-small hometown as quickly as possible and get her ass to the big city. Made sense she wanted to get back as soon as she could.

  “And you want me to bring her on board?”

  “I mean, of course. But I’m not expecting you to hire her right now.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Naturally. What I’m thinking is that you bring her in for an interview, see if she’d be a good fit. She’s smart as a whip, has a degree from NYU, and—”

  “Now,” I said, cutting him off, “having a degree ain’t exactly a good thing. I’ve had some college kids work with me before, and if anything, their education gets in the way. Tend to think t
hey’re too good for certain work, especially shit where they gotta get their hands dirty.”

  “Oh, you won’t need to worry about that. She’s a great worker, knows how to put her nose to the grindstone and do what needs to be done. She’s been working this farm since she was a little one.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could get out a word, someone caught my eye. Over in the corner of the bar, bent over the jukebox, had to be about the nicest ass I’d seen in a while. Whoever the girl was, she was wearing a pair of jeans she looked born to wear and a pair of black cowboy boots on her feet.

  Drew was still talking, but no fucking way I could pay attention with an ass like that a couple dozen feet away from me.

  “…Dean’s list in college – not everyone gets on that, you know.”

  “Uh huh…”

  When she stood up, all bets were off. She was tall, curvy, and leggy, and her tits strained the fabric of her button-up cowboy shirt. Her hair was fire-red, her skin alabaster. She looked about thirty or so – about as young as a forty-seven-year-old man like me ought to go. And as soon as her song kicked in, she started swaying her hips in a way that was downright hypnotic. I had to have her.

  “So, what do you say?” Drew’s voice snapped me back into reality.

  “Huh? About what?”

  There was silence, then a laugh. “Let me guess, good-looking lady caught your eye?”

  I grinned. The man knew me all too well. “You got it. So you know that means you’re gonna have to repeat yourself. Bullet points this time, though.”

  The woman caught me staring – exactly what I wanted. Her smile was sensual, and her eyes narrowed as she gazed in my direction. Didn’t take a detective to figure out she was into me. I sipped my whiskey before matching her smile with one of my own. It was on.

  “I wanted you to speak with Cindy about maybe working for you. No pressure – just a chat.”

  “Hmm. Yeah, sure. Send her over tomorrow around eleven. Got a feeling it’s gonna be a late morning.”

  Drew chuckled in a way that made me think he was a bit jealous. He didn’t have any problem with my girl-chasing, but it definitely had an effect on him. Usually got me wondering if he thought he ought to get back out there and try to find someone. But while I’d been dealing my wife’s death by working through every girl in this part of the state, he’d become more withdrawn.