Mistletoe Kisses

by Anna B. Doe

  Until an idea hits me. “There are services that bring a live tree to your house, then replant it after the season.”

  I reach for my phone, then realize I’ve forgotten it. Dammit. I hope I left it at Jax and Haley’s and not on the plane or something. Jax offers me his. My quick search turns up photos of trees with the root balls intact.

  “Beck got one in LA last year. But I doubt we could get one same day.”

  Sophie’s hopeful face determines our action before Jax huffs out a breath. “We better figure out a way.”

  Normally my assistant would handle these things, but I’m not gonna pull my staff away from their families. “Says there’s a place in Dallas that does it, but they’re closing in an hour and they’ve already delivered all their stock.”

  “Let me try someone.” Jax places a call and hangs up a few moments later. “Shay hooked us up.”

  I stare at him incredulously. “Shay your recording artist?”

  “She started as my receptionist,” he reminds me. “You’re the one who made me listen to her demo. And she’s resourceful as hell.”

  Turns out Shay went to school with the guy who runs the tree place, and she called to tell him to expect us. So, we head over there in the truck we borrowed from Jax’s guitarist, Mace.

  By the time the three of us get to the other shop and load up the tree—which has a huge root system the guy warns should not be transplanted without mechanical help—and tie it down, my eye’s on the clock.

  On the way home, Sophie falls asleep in the car seat we strapped into the back. The truck is sagging under the weight of the tree.

  Jax catches me watching his daughter. “You’ll get there someday.”

  “Someday.” It feels like a long fucking ways away sometimes.

  “And the wedding?” he asks.

  I shove a hand through my hair, staring at the near-empty road ahead of us. Jax and I don’t have a lot of personal conversations, and the ones we have had tended to make things between Annie and me worse, not better. “We agreed to put it on hold for now. I’ve never needed to stand up in front of a bunch of people and declare my intentions.”

  “She might.” I cut him a look, and he continues, “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Haley and having two girls, it’s that there’s always something going on under the surface. Ignore it at your peril.”

  I turn over his words as we bump down the road. The clock radio says almost two hours have passed since we left. We’re half an hour from Jax’s place, moving slowly on a quiet back road. The temperature is near freezing, and I swear I saw a snowflake.

  I’m still dwelling on that when the truck hits a pothole and swerves.

  Sophie squeals.

  I brace a hand on the dash, scanning the empty road for signs of danger. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t steer.” Jax’s voice is low and tight.

  I feel the uneven weight of the truck pulling and look over my shoulder through the rear window. The ropes holding the tree have loosened, and it’s dangling off the back of the truck.

  A moment later, we’re no longer on the road.

  Chapter Three

  Annie

  “These were going to be done earlier in the week,” Haley says as we work together in the kitchen, making gingerbread.

  The cavernous space, decked out with marble and gourmet appliances, could host a dozen chefs, but it’s just us, plus baby Mason sleeping in his bassinet. She takes the dough from the bowl and rolls it out.

  I peruse the collection of cookie cutters. “Sophie didn’t want to help?”

  “That was the problem. She helped too much the first time—I didn’t see her sneak half a cup of salt in place of the sugar.”

  I wince. “Ouch. Who found out?”

  We exchange a look.

  “Jax,” she says as I say, “Dad.”

  Haley’s laugh can’t solve the dull ache in my stomach, but I find a smile for my stepmom.

  Today’s not going how I’d hoped either.

  “Why do you make cookies anyway?” I ask as I choose a reindeer cookie cutter and shift next to Haley. My stepmom is wildly successful in her own right. She might not have screaming fans, but she’s a borderline genius who started her career designing software that optimizes songs and predicts which new ones will be hits. “You’ve probably been working your ass off on some computer program for your company. You could’ve asked the caterer to bring cookies with dinner, especially after the first batch failed.”

  I pick a spot and stamp the reindeer, wiggling the edges until it cuts clean through.

  “I could’ve. But some of the painful parts of life are worth savoring.”

  I lift the shaped dough, making it dance in the air.

  One slender leg falls off.

  “Shit. Reindeer down.” I lay the cookie on the sheet and try to repair it. “You shouldn’t let me touch anything right now. I’m in ‘search and destroy’ mode.”

  Haley stops rolling dough and turns toward me. “What’s going on? You and Tyler aren’t in a good place?”

  “We are. It’s just… I want to marry him. He wants to release an album.”

  Normally, I’d love to talk with Tyler about his album’s release—except that I was thinking he wanted to talk about our wedding. I cut the next cookie as emotion wells up in my throat.

  I’ve always felt too much. I used to think Tyler and I were opposites because it was hard to know what he was feeling and easy to know what I was feeling—it’s always written on my face. We’re mostly over that. Still, I can’t believe this whole time I’ve been thinking about a wedding and he’s been thinking about an album—one I know next to nothing about.

  Haley wraps an arm around me. She’s not a touchy person, and her comfort means more because of it. “You know as well as anyone life doesn’t always happen on your schedule.”

  I nod. She’s right—growing up as the daughter of a rock star, navigating my own dreams and jealousy while falling for my best friend, a huge musician in his own right, hasn’t been easy.

  “I’m grateful for everything I have,” I say. “But Tyler’s finishing his album and I barely see him. He hasn’t even played me anything from it, which he normally would. It feels as if, if we don’t make wedding plans soon, I’m not sure we’re going to.”

  “Remember, I’ve known Tyler longer than you have. I met him back at Wicked when he was, oh, probably fourteen? He loves two things—music and you.”

  I groan. “I know. But does it have to be in that order?”

  Her mouth twitches as she finishes rolling the dough, passing it to me for cutting. Haley gets what it’s like better than anyone, being married to someone whose life is about their music. Hell, mine is too, which I think makes it harder.

  I know I’m being dramatic, but I come by it honestly. Like my dad, dramatic is my factory setting.

  “Tyler’s going to love your gift,” Haley comments as I continue to stamp out gingerbread. “It’s sitting behind the studio.”

  I suck in a breath, thinking of the small, partially obscured gravel lot hidden by trees. It’s adjacent to the boutique recording studio housed in the heavily renovated and expanded pool house out back.

  “I hope so. I spent months looking for it.”

  As I set the last dozen reindeer carefully on the cookie sheet—all forty-eight legs accounted for, thank you very much—she looks at the clock.

  “They’ve been gone two hours. It’s crazy. When we met and he was on tour, I wouldn’t have thought twice about going hours, even days, without seeing him or knowing where he was. But now…” Haley says, not needing to finish her thought.

  I feel the same way, and a ribbon of concern works through my mind. “Let me text them. They should be back by now.”

  “Sophie’s probably making them look at a dozen trees.”

  I’m typing out a text to Tyler when the doorbell rings.

  “Is that them or the catering?” I ask, frowning.

>   “Go get it,” Haley suggests.

  I rinse my hands, then head to the door and pull on the handle. The face greeting me instantly lift my spirits.

  “Wow, they’re letting just anyone in here,” Beck drawls.

  I throw my arms around my friend and former peer mentor from school. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be filming in LA.”

  “Slave drivers gave us a few days off for the holiday, same as you guys. Besides, my tan was good enough. Figured I’d spend a few days out east with you pale fools.”

  “I didn’t know you were coming! Tyler will be so happy to see you.” Though Tyler went to LA a couple of months ago to visit his label, he and his former roommate weren’t able to connect because of their busy schedules. “I figured you were Dad and Tyler or the catering.”

  “There’s no food?” he says, mock aghast. “I’m leaving.”

  Serena’s voice comes from behind me. “What he means is ‘happy holidays.’” She throws her arms around her brother.

  He catches us up on his work in LA. Soon after, the catering finally arrives, the caterer apologizing and saying the roads were getting slippery.

  Still, the guys haven’t returned.

  I try calling Tyler and find his phone in the hall.

  Haley calls Dad. Nothing.

  I’m legitimately worried now, and Haley is too. With her quiet competence, she calls the tree farm and finds out there was no record of a purchase, but they remember seeing two men and a little girl more than two hours ago. Anxiety roils in my stomach, the awful feeling that something’s gone terribly wrong.

  “I’m sure they’re fine,” Beck insists, squeezing my shoulder. “I don’t know your dad, but how much trouble could Ty get into around here?”

  A trembling exhale escapes my lips. “More than enough.”

  Chapter Four

  Haley

  “If you’re not my family, my band, or the ghost of Jimi Hendrix, call my agent.”

  My husband’s familiar recording streams out of the speaker pressed to my ear. It’s comforting even though I know it’s not him.

  “Jax. I hope you guys aren’t doing something crazy.” I can’t keep the worry out of my voice. “I love you. All of you,” I add before hitting End.

  I’m getting anxious but trying to hide it as I meet Serena in the dining room to finish setting the table for tonight.

  “The food got here an hour ago,” I murmur, glancing back toward the kitchen.

  “We can reheat it if we need to,” my friend says easily. “You still can’t reach them?”

  I shake my head. “Annie said Tyler left his phone here.”

  Serena looks up. “Where is Annie?”

  “She needed a minute and went out back.” I glance toward the patio and the studio beyond as if I can see through the walls.

  My friend steps between me and the long table decorated with sprays of mistletoe and cranberries, frowning with concern. “You could use a minute.”

  I wave her off. “Let’s finish setting up here.” I nod toward the cutlery, enough for all of us. Which reminds me… “I should see if the band needs more drinks.”

  An hour ago, Jax’s former bandmates showed up. It’s as if our entire extended family is here.

  Serena stops me on the way to the door. “Wes can take care of it. He knows where the bar is.”

  She heads toward the living room and returns a moment later. We work side by side, talking about New York.

  “I need to go look for them,” I insist when we finish. “Can you watch Mason for me?”

  “Of course, but I don’t think you should go out driving in the dark.”

  “They’ve been gone three hours. Something’s wrong.” I could call the police, but I don’t think they’d send a car out on Christmas Eve on the basis of “They’ve been gone all afternoon.”

  Wes comes in, followed by Serena’s brother, and immediately sizes up the situation. “Beck and I’ll go look for them.”

  I nod tightly. “That would be great. You can take my car.”

  The door opens just as they’re about to head out. Jax enters, Sophie boosted up on one hip, and a huge wave of relief washes over me.

  I didn’t know how worried I was until this second.

  “You’re late,” I comment, my chest tightening at the sight of my husband and daughter.

  “I know, Hales. Mace’s truck went off the road”—my heart leaps into my throat—“and my phone died. I didn’t have a compatible charger in the truck.”

  I take my daughter, hugging her hard. “How did you get back?” I ask over her shoulder.

  Tyler’s dark head appears in the doorway. “We would’ve gotten back sooner if Jax wasn’t hell-bent on bringing our cargo with us.”

  “It was your idea in the first place,” Jax grumbles.

  “What was?” I ask, pulling back to run a harrowed gaze over Sophie, from her head to her shiny black rubber boots. All the important parts seem to be there.

  “This.”

  They swing the doors wide to reveal the tree. Two men wearing construction vests help Jax and Tyler bring it inside and set it up in the living room. I look out into the driveway and see a tow truck.

  “Sweet tree,” Beck declares. “Same kind I got last year.”

  “Yeah, well, tree fell out of the truck,” Tyler says wearily after they set the tree in the corner. “We went off the road. Fortunately didn’t hit anything. Some people offered us a ride, but we had to wait for not one tow but two—one for Mace’s truck and one for the tree.”

  “Everyone’s good?”

  My question is for my daughter, and Sophie nods, eyes wide. “The truck was going this way and that way”—she motions with her hands in a way that makes my stomach lurch—“but Daddy saved us. Tyler walked down the road and got these guys to help us out. They saved the tree.”

  I force my attention to the prize in question. “It’s growing.”

  “Damn right it is,” Jax responds, tossing me a cocky look that somehow softens the edge of my concern.

  Sophie jumps down from my arms and dances around the tree in delight.

  “We can decorate,” Serena suggests. “What do you say, Sophie?”

  She’s already diving into the box of ornaments in the corner of the room.

  I make my way into the dining room, where the huge table is set for everyone. My husband finds me there.

  “I’m glad Sophie didn’t bludgeon you and Tyler into the ground on her tree hunt,” I manage to say.

  “Yeah. It worked out all right—the guys took a selfie with Tyler and me. Apparently they’re fans, so the kid promised to send them tickets to his next tour.” Despite everything that’s happened, he grins. “Nights like this are the best.”

  I shake my head. “You don’t miss being on the road for the holidays?”

  “Never. It’s perfect, Hales.” Jax brushes a kiss over my cheek. His gaze lands Tyler, who’s talking with Beck but discreetly searching for Annie. “Where is she?”

  “Outside. I should go tell her he’s okay. That you all are.”

  Jax catches my arm. “Let him.”

  I sigh. “They’re having a tough time.”

  “They’re figuring things out,” he corrects. “Like we did.”

  I tilt my head up at him. “Exactly like we did? I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

  Jax steps between my legs, his size and hard body and closeness affecting me instantly.

  “It was worth it,” he murmurs in that voice every woman on the planet dreams of having in her ear.

  “This is what’s it’s all about,” I say. “Family. Connection. Belonging.”

  He nods. “We all chose each other. No matter where we celebrate, or how we celebrate or when, we’re unbreakable.”

  I questioned it once. I don’t anymore.

  The crew is all here. Jax’s guitarist, Ryan, known as Mace to the rest of the world, is who Mason was named after. Their bassist, Brick, is with his wif
e, Nina, and drummer Kyle with his new girlfriend. Plus Serena and Wes. Everyone has drinks and mingles around the living room, catching up or helping Sophie decorate the new tree.

  “It’s not Christmas until we play The Song,” Mace declares.

  “What song?” Serena asks.

  But Jax is already trying to grab the phone out of his guitarist’s hand. His former drummer, Kyle, steps in and takes it, hitting Play. My husband growls.

  But his voice—younger but as charming as ever—streams out of the speaker.

  “Dude. ‘It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas’?” Beck says in disbelief.

  “I was twenty and bowing to pressure from the label,” Jax gripes. “They wanted a holiday EP to capitalize on my platinum album.”

  “I try to get him to repeat for us every year,” I weigh in. “So far, nothing.”

  The look Jax shoots me would have lesser women falling to their knees. “I’m never performing Christmas songs again, Hales.”

  “Not even for your family?” I cock my head. “That’s cold. And speaking of cold, I need to reheat dinner. Excuse me.”

  I head to the kitchen and put things in the double oven. I’m instantly on alert before Jax ambushes me, tickling lightly until I screech.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about our legacy,” he says.

  I cock a brow. “Three kids isn’t enough?”

  Annie might not be mine biologically, but she is in every other way.

  “It’s everything.” The earnestness in his voice makes me melt. “But some of the people out there—Tyler, the band—are family we chose. They’re able to live extraordinary lives in part because we helped. I think of how many more people we could help.”

  “Aside from our charity?” He nods, and my brows pull together in suspicion. “It sounds as if you might have an idea.”

  “I just might. Tell me you’re with me.”

  “You going to tell me what it is?”

  A wicked grin splits his face. “There’s no fun in that.”

  Before I can press him, he pulls me close, and I kiss him. He’s still gorgeous, the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met.