Jingle Balls: A Holiday Romantic Comedy Anthology

by Dylann Crush

  The door opened before I had a chance to grab the handle.

  Tom Schmitt, or Schmitty as he was known by friends, startled when he saw me standing on the stoop. “Hey, doc.”

  “Good morning, Schmitty. Everything okay?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry to say that it’s not. I got a call saying my appointment was moved up but when I got here that temp nurse you’ve got working for you said I wasn’t on the schedule.”

  “Of course you’re on the schedule. You’ve been my Monday morning nine o’clock slot for the past three months.”

  “That’s what I tried to tell her.” Schmitty leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You’d better get a handle on things before she runs all of your customers away.”

  I balanced the box on my hip and put a hand on Schmitty’s shoulder. Poor guy had been working construction all his life and his joints were showing it. “Come back inside. I’ll get you situated, then figure out what’s going on with the calendar.”

  By the time I’d adjusted Schmitty and worked my way through the other pissed off patients the temp nurse had mishandled, my lunch hour had come and gone. I walked the last patient of the day to the front office and had to shake my head to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.

  Misty Duncan stood behind the front desk, arranging the tiny bottles of essential oils on the narrow shelves.

  “What are you doing here? And where did my nurse go?” I set my clipboard down on the ledge.

  “She said she had to get home for something. I told her I’d help you close up.” Misty smiled, the same damn smile that she used all over town when she wanted something to go her way.

  “What do you want, Misty?” Arms crossed over my chest, I waited for her to ‘fess up. At least she didn’t beat around the bush. When Misty wanted something, she didn’t waste words on making people guess.

  “It was so nice of you to drop off that basket for the silent auction.” She finished lining up the bottles and moved on to arranging the microwavable heating pads.

  “My pleasure. I’m always happy to help with one of your projects.”

  “We’re so lucky to have you here in Swallow Springs. You’re the only one who’s been able to keep my headaches away.”

  “Where are you headed with this?” She knew I knew she was trying to butter me up.

  “Rumor has it you might be thinking about moving on.” Her eyes narrowed, but her smile remained. “Please tell me that’s not true?”

  Damn. I might have mentioned something to the bartender down at the VFW last time I met some of the guys for a drink. I always forgot how fast word traveled.

  “The thought’s crossed my mind. I can’t seem to keep a nurse, and business would probably be better in a bigger community.”

  She tsked, the same sound my mom used to make when she was about to take me to task over something. “I might have a lead on a nurse for you. Heather’s looking for a job.”

  “Oh yeah? I figured she didn’t want to move back for good.”

  “If the right opportunity comes along, she might.” Misty tapped her finger against her lip. “I was also hoping you could donate a gift certificate to go along with the basket for the silent auction. Give folks a chance to get to know you better.”

  “Sure. How about a free initial consult?” Misty’s news about Heather sparked a little hope. I’d have to reach out and see if there was any truth to her being open to sticking around.

  She shook her head. “Something more personal. Cocktails with the chiro?”

  “Cocktails? What, like a screwdriver down at the VFW?” That’s about as close as someone in Swallow Springs would get to the kind of craft cocktails I liked to make.

  “I know you know your way around a shaker. Jake told me you mixed up a bunch of fun concoctions at the last poker night.”

  “You really think someone’s going to up their bid to spend an evening getting sloshed with me?” I squeezed past Misty to double check my schedule. With my luck, the temp nurse had slid someone in and not bothered to tell me.

  “I think it would give someone a chance to get to know you. Create some rapport with the townspeople.” She shrugged. “I can’t afford to lose you. I’m pretty sure you’re the only reason my kids haven’t gotten sick in the past eighteen months. Pre-school is like a petri dish, but they’ve all managed to avoid it. We just need other folks in town to come around.”

  “Fine. Whatever you need.” She’d wear me down until I eventually agreed. Might as well save myself the aggravation and go along with her.

  “Aw, thanks so much. I’ll even print up a certificate for you. Let me handle it. You won’t have to do a thing.”

  “Except spend an evening with some stranger.”

  She graced me with a closed-lip grin. “Not a stranger. A potential long-term client.”

  “Right.”

  “Oh, here’s your ticket to the ball. You get a free one with your donation.” She set a bright red card down on the counter. “Heather will be there. Maybe you can talk to her about the nurse position.”

  “Yeah, I’ll see you there.”

  3

  Heather

  “I don’t know about this.” I stood in front of the mirror in my childhood bedroom. Mom hadn’t changed my room much. Posters of my teenage crushes still hung on the walls. Eminem and The White Stripes gazed down at me while I tugged and pulled at the bodice of the dark red strapless dress I’d found at the back of my closet.

  The ticket Misty gave me said semi-formal, which sounded like a stretch for the good people of Swallow Springs. Especially when considering the location. No telling how many kegs of beer had been spilled over the floor at the VFW over the years. The dark interior would insure no one noticed the wear and tear, but still, it was an odd choice of location for a ball.

  With a last look in the mirror, I figured I’d done the best I could. It’s not like I expected to have a good time, anyway. I’d just show up long enough to get my sister-in-law off my back and head home to binge watch a few episodes of my latest addiction on Netflix.

  As I put the finishing touches on my lipstick—a shade I’d dug out of my makeup bag that almost matched my dress—a truck pulled up out front. Mom had volunteered to babysit for Jake and Misty, so they were bringing my nephews and niece over and had offered to give me a ride.

  Jake let out a low whistle as I stepped into the living room. “Wow, you’re going to be fighting them off tonight.”

  “If by ‘them’ you mean all the single men from the nursing home, then I’ll probably be able to hold my own.” I hugged the boys and gave my niece a special squeeze.

  “Hey, we’ve got a few more eligible bachelors in town since you moved away.” Misty glowed in a tight-fitting emerald green dress that showed off her curves. She arched a brow and one side of her mouth nudged up. “Including Dr. Pierce.”

  My pulse betrayed me by ticking faster at the mention of the hot doctor’s name. “I’ve sworn off doctors.”

  Misty let out a laugh. “He needs a nurse and you need a job. If you don’t want to date the guy, maybe you’d consider working for him?”

  “Don’t even go there.” I wasn’t about to let Misty sink her matchmaking claws into my career. Not even if her efforts might save it from being flushed down the toilet.

  “Y’all have a good time.” Mom was already motioning the kids into the family room where she’d set up a hot cocoa bar for the holiday movie marathon she’d planned.

  “Ready for this?” Jake offered an arm to his wife and one to me.

  “Let’s get it over with.” I grabbed my sparkly clutch off the table by the door and steeled myself for the night ahead.

  Misty had completely outdone herself. The interior of the VFW had been transformed. As we entered the building a volunteer slipped a necklace over our heads. Two jingle balls were tied together to look like what I assumed were supposed to be festive holiday ball sacks.

  “What the heck are these?” I
asked Misty.

  “Jingle balls.” She swept into the room like she owned the place, which tonight, technically, she did. “Just wait until you see the party favors. Some of the ladies down at the senior center made us a ton of crocheted scrotum ornaments and dick-shaped lip balm holders.”

  “You really went all out on the theme, didn’t you?”

  “When you’re talking about ball cancer, you can either tone it down or go all in.”

  I’d never known Misty to tone anything down so it was no surprise she’d chosen to fully embrace the balls part of the Jingle Balls ball.

  “Oooh, I see Cassie over there.” Misty nodded toward the other side of the room. “We’re going to say hi. Want to come?”

  I glanced around the dim interior. The decorating committee had strung twinkle lights across the ceiling. Everything sparkled with an excess of holiday shimmer and glimmer—a stark contrast to my dark mood.

  My gaze stopped at the bar. “I’m going to grab a beverage first.”

  “Try the Hot Buttery Nuts. I came up with that one myself.” Misty grabbed my brother by the elbow and the two of them moved away.

  “Hot Buttery Nuts, my ass,” I mumbled to myself as I crossed the dance floor to take the shortest route to the bar.

  “Excuse me?”

  I glanced up to find Weston by my side. “What?”

  “I could have sworn I just heard you say something about hot buttery nuts and your ass.” The humor in those blue eyes created a flicker of warmth in my belly. “As a medical professional, I’ve got to warn you, I think that combination would be a very bad idea.”

  “Thank you for your expert opinion.” I tried to tamp down my attraction for the doc as I nodded at the plastic cup in his hand. “What are you drinking?”

  “I believe the bartender called it a Ball Buster. Want a sip?” He held it out to me.

  “No, I’ll get my own, thanks.”

  I could sense him behind me as I moved toward the bar. The sensation wasn’t totally unpleasant. Weston Pierce was more than easy on the eyes. And in a fitted suit coat and smelling like expensive cologne with a hint of whiskey, I was sure he’d be pretty easy on the rest of me as well. But doctors were off limits. Especially one so heavily endorsed by my meddling sister-in-law.

  “Let me buy you a drink.” He leaned his elbows on the bar and held a twenty out to the bartender.

  “Sure.” I turned to the guy behind the bar. “I guess give me one of those Ball Busters.”

  Weston swirled the liquid around in his cup. “It’s not bad. I’d probably use a smoother whiskey though.”

  “Are you a bartender disguised as a chiropractor?”

  “I’ve been known to mix a few drinks from time to time.”

  “Ooh, a man of many talents.” I was so out of practice with my flirting game. Not that it mattered much in Swallow Springs. The sheer lack of available singles in my age group meant anyone looking for a hook-up wouldn’t be very picky. Not that I was looking for a hook-up.

  I took the cup the bartender handed me and tapped it against Weston’s. “Thanks for the drink.”

  “Want to find somewhere to sit down?” He nodded toward the tables surrounding the empty dance floor.

  “Why not?” I picked the one farthest away from where everyone gathered at the silent auction table. Before I had a chance to set down my drink, he pulled out my chair. “An amateur bartender and a gentleman. What a combo.”

  One side of his mouth ticked up. “We’re a dying breed.”

  “Gentlemanly bartenders?” I slid onto the chair, already enjoying the evening more than I wanted to admit. “The guy behind the bar seemed very polite.”

  “Nah. He’s faking it for tips.”

  “Really?” I lifted my cup and took a whiff. Weston was right. The tang of cheap whiskey tickled the inside of my nose.

  “I saw him cuss out one of his co-workers earlier for not bringing the right kind of vodka.” He lifted a shoulder.

  “And that just proves my point. You can’t trust anyone nowadays. You think you know something about a person and boom”—I slapped my palm down on the table—“you find out you can’t trust your intuition after all.”

  Weston didn’t flinch when my palm hit the table. Maybe he was a true gentleman. Maybe the only one left in the whole wide world.

  “Does that have anything to do with why you’re back in town?”

  “What makes you ask that?” I took a long sip of my Ball Buster. I needed to take it slow or this beverage would have me busting someone else’s balls in no time at all.

  “Maybe it’s my intuition.” He leaned against the back of his chair and gave me a grin.

  I couldn’t help but smile back.

  “You know, a true gentleman is good at keeping secrets.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I want to share any secrets?”

  “I’m just saying, if you need to talk… I’m not from around here so I don’t subscribe to the everybody-has-to-know-everyone-else’s-business mentality. You seem like you could use a friend.”

  I hadn’t shared the real details about my recent decision to leave a good paying job in Kansas City and tuck tail to hide at home. As I toyed with the straw sticking out of my drink, I considered the offer. Maybe it was the kindness in his eyes staring back at me, or perhaps the debilitating Ball Buster I’d just about sucked down, but something about Weston Pierce made me want to open up.

  “I loved my job.” I stared into my rapidly disappearing drink.

  “Then why did you quit?”

  My chest expanded as I took in a deep breath. “I got forced out.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “Evidently it’s okay for a doctor to mess around with a nurse and not tell her he’s married.” I glanced up to check Weston’s reaction. “Until his wife finds out.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. She gave him an ultimatum. One of us had to leave the practice, or she’d divorce him. He got a second honeymoon in the Bahamas and I got to quit instead of being fired.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  I cocked my head and let my gaze drift over the cleft in his chin before it slid along the strong jawline. “As my mom always says”—I lifted my cup—“there’s fair, and then there’s what happens to most of us.”

  “Did you fight it at all?”

  “No. I never should have gotten involved with him in the first place. It’s just—”

  He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “What?”

  “I sound deranged.” My fingers fondled the jingle balls necklace.

  “No, you don’t. Not anymore than anyone else. You got a raw deal. I’m sorry that happened.” He made one of those faces that made it look like he really was sorry… the kind where his mouth screwed up while his brows drew down.

  “I mean, it was my own fault. I’d just ended a long-term relationship, and he seemed interested. I guess I figured he’d be a good distraction.”

  “Dating sucks.” Weston finished his drink and nodded toward mine. “Can I get you another?”

  “Yes, please.” I handed him my empty cup.

  I followed him with my gaze as he moved toward the bar. Either my lightweight ass was drunk from one six ounce alcoholic beverage or Weston Pierce had bathed in pheromones. Because the sight of his ass and the way he swaggered toward the bar had me almost drooling. I wiped my finger across my chin to make sure there wasn’t any slobber running down my face.

  “There you are.” Misty plopped down on the chair next to me.

  “Here I am.” I rolled my eyes as I turned to face her.

  “Please tell me you’re not wasted.” Concern lined Misty’s forehead. “I think Cassie’s in labor.”

  My stomach rolled, making the rapidly consumed Ball Buster slosh around in my gut. “Oh shit. Are you sure?”

  “No, I’m not sure. That’s why I came to grab you, the nurse. She’s in the kitchen swearing she doesn’t need to go to the hospi
tal yet. Come with me?”

  I took one last look at Weston’s profile as he stood against the bar. Then I grabbed Misty’s hand. “Show me where she is.”

  4

  Weston

  I’d been enjoying myself with Heather. She was easy to talk to and damn, she smelled good. Kind of like the gardenias my mom tended when I was a kid back in Texas. Hearing her talk about her last employer made it clear I wouldn’t be able to offer her a job. There’s no way I’d be able to work with her all day and not give in to the attraction that pulsed under the surface. I paid for our drinks and turned back to the table. She was gone.

  The crowd had thickened in the past fifteen minutes or so. I searched for Heather over the tops of peoples’ heads but couldn’t seem to find her in the sea of Swallow Springs residents who were decked out in their Sunday best.

  Someone bumped into me from behind. “Careful, there.”

  “Hey, doc. You know anything about delivering babies?” The panic in Jake’s eyes told me he wasn’t just making conversation.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Cassie’s in the kitchen. I don’t think she’s going to make it to the hospital.”

  “Here”—I handed him both beverages—“Show me where she is.”

  I followed Jake through the swinging doors to the kitchen. Cassie sprawled out over a few chairs that had been lined up next to each other. My chest loosened when I saw Heather crouched down next to her, holding her hand.

  “How can I help?” I leaned over Heather’s shoulder.

  “We’ve called an ambulance, but I don’t think this baby’s going to wait.” She pressed Cassie’s hand into mine. “Keep her calm. Misty, go get some clean tablecloths.”

  “What can I do?” Jake asked, still holding the two drinks I’d handed him.

  Heather didn’t even glance up. “Why don’t you go find Robbie and give him one of those drinks? Looks like he’s about to become a dad.”

  Jake rushed off, leaving me behind with Heather, who’d donned a pair of latex gloves and had taken a spot near Cassie’s feet.