Christmas at Mistletoe Lodge: New Holiday Romances to Benefit St. Jude Hospital

by Sabrina York

  “So are you saying it’s my fault you joined the Navy?”

  “It’s nobody’s fault. It was my choice. And it was a damn good choice. Which is kind of a miracle, because we were really young. I can’t believe what a dunce I was back then. When I think back…” He snorted a laugh. “How on earth could I have ever been interested in Barbie Malone?”

  “Do you think this is funny?”

  He gave a mini-shrug. “Kinda. I mean, we were kids, Vic. Such young, stupid, starry-eyed kids who lived in a world where nothing ever went wrong.”

  “So what went wrong?”

  His smile quirked. “We grew up. But that’s not so bad, is it? I’m more mature than I was then. Experienced. Stronger. Certainly smarter. I’d never take off after Barbie Malone nowadays.”

  “So I’m supposed to forgive you for leaving me because you were young and stupid?”

  “I didn’t leave you, remember? You told me to go.”

  “Because you wanted to go.”

  “Did I say I wanted to go?”

  “You wanted to go.”

  He huffed out a breath. “I sure as shit didn’t want to lose you forever like I did.”

  I tipped my head like a meerkat. “I’m right here.”

  “You know what I mean. Once I…sobered up, shall we say, on Barbie Malone, I knew I’d made a bad call.”

  “A bad call? So now I’m a bad call?”

  “Technically, Barbie was the bad call.” He wrinkled his nose. “Are you paying attention?”

  “I’m paying attention. Stop that.” I smacked him away when he tried to fold my hand in his. Last thing I needed was to be seduced by an old flame during the busiest week of my year.

  “Here is the truth.” He took my cheeks in his hands so I would pay attention. “I have never forgotten you, Vic. Never. I always wondered where you’d gone. What you’d done. But I couldn’t find you. Anywhere. And then…a Christmas miracle happened. Grant called me and asked me to help out this week—”

  “I would hardly classify that as a Christmas miracle,” I said, because it was true.

  “I was going to say no, because, come on, it’s Christmas. But then he mentioned your name and I had to say yes. I had to see you again. I needed to know…”

  Wait. What? He’d come here on purpose? For me?

  I was breathless, dizzy from it, but I still managed, “You needed to know…what?”

  “If there’s any chance for us. I know we’re different than we were back then, but damn, we were good together. Maybe those bits are still in there?”

  A sudden prick of conscience smote me. I pulled away. “I’ve been dating. I’ve been dating a lot.” He deserved to know.

  “Mm hmm.” He curled his arms around my waist again and rocked us both back and forth. “Grant happened to mention that you were single.”

  “How did Grant happen to mention that?

  “I happened to ask.” He grinned proudly, like a little boy. “So why are you here? Alone? At Christmas if you’re so blissfully dating?”

  “Blissfully dating a lot. I thought I made that clear. Darcy flaked. We couldn’t get anyone else at the last minute. Since I’ve done this job, Grant asked me to fill in. That’s why I’m here, alone, on Christmas. I had to cancel a lot to do this, you know.”

  “What? A potluck with your boyfriend’s family?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Just so happens, I do have a boyfriend.”

  “Do you?” It was clear by his expression that he thought I was Canadian-Boyfriending him. But I wasn’t lying. I did have a boyfriend. And he wasn’t Canadian.

  I wriggled determinedly from Coop’s arms, found my phone, and a picture of Dirk. The good one, from this summer, when he’d just caught a, like, gnarly wave. It was a great pic because he was big and brown and sandy and gorgeous. “Here.” I thrust my phone beneath Coop’s nose.

  He snorted on it.

  “That’s not your boyfriend. No. That is not your boyfriend.”

  I had no idea why he snickered. I looked back at the photo. Hot guy. Surfboard. Long, sandy hair. Cocky grin. Nothing funny at all.

  “You got that picture on the internet, right?”

  “What?” I gaped at him in shock. How dare he suggest a thing? So I flipped to a picture of the two of us. It happened to be one from a fancy party, and Dirk was resplendent in a white suit and black bowtie. “Hah!” I said as I showed him this photo. So there.

  He sobered and took the phone from me and stared at it. “Damn, Vic,” he said. “You look hot.”

  I grabbed the phone back. Yeah. I’d looked pretty snazzy that night, but that was hardly the point. “This is Dirk,” I said pointing to his photo-face. “He is my boyfriend. He loooves me.”

  “Oh yeah?” Coop leaned against the pillar. “Then why isn’t he here?”

  “It’s not his job—”

  “If I loved someone, no way would I let her go off for Christmas without me. Even if I had to miss the family potluck.”

  “Oh… you!” He was so frustrating sometimes. “There was no potluck. There was a suite in the Swiss Alps, with five star service and fancy parties and…relaxation.”

  His smile was sly. “And Dirk, of course,” he said softly.

  “Of course.”

  “Interesting that you didn’t mention him. You know. Just sayin’.”

  “I mentioned him.”

  “I believe I mentioned him, but why belabor the point?”

  “Oh. Was there a point?” Honestly. I wanted to smack him.

  “I think the main point is that you and I are here, together, on Christmas. And Dirk is not.” At which point, he stalked toward me and took me in his arms and kissed me.

  God, it was sexy. His mouth was soft and warm and plaintive as he teased me into a response. It didn’t take long for flames to lick through me, with him so close. The two of us breathing the same sweet air. The kiss deepened; he ate at my mouth and caressed my scalp and walked me back until the door slammed against my back.

  I was transported. We both were.

  Until a spoon tapped on the window.

  And not the nice way a spoon might tap on a window. This was a very angry spoon.

  Whack! Whack! Whack!

  Coop lifted his head, peered inside, and laughed. “I think we’re disturbing the chef,” he said releasing me.

  I meticulously brushed myself down, patted my hair back in place, and cleared my throat before I went inside. “Good morning, Noel.”

  He said some things in French that apparently needed to be pronounced through a nostril in order to be said correctly. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t cordial.

  I surveyed the six or seven dishes he had cooking. “How’s breakfast coming?” It was supposed to be a quick buffet before the guests took off with Cooper and his team. Ah. The thought of all that quiet was delightful. “Let me know when you want to start set up.” I didn’t wait for a response. I headed straight into the great room to pull out the breakfast dishes.

  Coop followed. Apparently. I nearly walked right into him when I turned around too quickly with arms full of china. “Oh, sheesh.” I frowned at him. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Let me take those.”

  “I don’t need any help.”

  He ignored me and took what I had, so I went back for more. When I met him at the table, I frowned. “I don’t need help.”

  “I know. I just want to spend a few more moments with you before I head out with the guests.”

  Naturally, I eyed him warily. “Why?”

  “Maybe I enjoy your company? Would that be so impossible to believe? Or maybe I just really want to reconnect with an old—”

  “There’s that word again.”

  “Friend.” He leaned against the table and grinned. “I really have missed you, Vic. Always wondered what might have happened…”

  Yeah. He let it trail off like that.

  “Kind of a moot point, isn’t it?” I asked as I started laying out
the silverware. He tried to help but he put the spoons on the wrong side.

  “Why?”

  I shrugged. “That was then. This is now.”

  He tapped his chin. “I think I read that book in junior high.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.” He cocked a head and peered at me. “Here we are, together, attracted to each other. Both single. You’re sure you’re not married?”

  I set my hands on my hips and huffed a sigh. “Grant told you I wasn’t.”

  “You never confirmed it.”

  Confirmed it? Was he serious? “No. I am not married.” Heaven forbid.

  “Just checking.” He started setting goblets above the knife, but I had to stop him because he wasn’t wearing gloves and he was getting fingerprints all over the glasses.

  “I think I would have mentioned I was married the first time you kissed me, don’t you?”

  He shrugged and watched me buff off his stupid fingerprints. “You never know, these days.”

  I glared at him. “You should have asked if I was seeing anyone. That’s what you should have asked.”

  “I didn’t care if you were seeing someone. I just wanted to see you again. To know…”

  “Right,” I finished for him. “If it’s still there.”

  His gaze seared me. “It is.”

  I couldn’t disagree, but thankfully, I didn’t have to, because Mungo came to my rescue, poking in his head into the great room and telling Coop they were ready to start loading gear.

  Is it pathetic that I breathed a sigh of relief when he sketched me a wave and took off?

  7

  The guests woke up late, but I didn’t care. I just hunkered down by the breakfast buffet and tried to focus on something other than my swirling emotions.

  Let’s face it, Coop had made his interest in me more than clear. I had an open invitation if I wanted one. So what was holding me back?

  Certainly not Dirk.

  I believed in monogamy, when a couple has agreed to that. I mean, if you’re going to be together, be together. Dirk and I just never got to that magical point. And I had no delusions that he was running around Switzerland alone.

  Was it fear then? Remembered pain from when Coop hurt me all those years ago?

  I’d been crushed.

  But now, I could see it from older eyes. Now I knew… I had told him to leave. Like an idiot. Multiple times. He finally did.

  Yeah. I was probably the one who’d blown it. But that was hardly an epiphany. More like a modus operandi.

  Question was, what did I want now? Now that I was an adult? Relatively mature? Over it with games?

  What did I really want?

  The guests started coming down, so I let Noel know and started laying out the food on the buffet table and priming the coffee urns. The adults appeared first, and then, in fits and starts, the teens. Jamison and his friends were unnaturally quiet and sullen. It kind of made me want to bang some pots.

  Surprisingly, breakfast went relatively smoothly—that was until Farley came down the stairs, with Eliza at her heels, in absolute hysterics. Both of them.

  “Someone has stolen Lola,” Farley wailed.

  “Lola?”

  “My dog! My sweet little baby! She’s gone!”

  Egads. The Chihuahua. No.

  My first thought was of Mason’s appetite for Mexican food. I could visualize it now. Us, finding the mauled corpse of a tiny little Lola in the snow. Or worse, nothing but an ominous trickle of Chihuahua blood.

  Eliza was just as upset, if not more. “I took her out to go potty, but I brought her back in. I took her right back to the bedroom. But then, when I woke up, she was gone!”

  “No worries.” I rubbed Eliza’s back, because she really looked like she was going to lose it. “I’ll get the staff searching at once.” I made an emergency call on the radio, and everyone responded like troopers. Coop and his team headed outside to make a sweep around the house and woods, while my people searched the big house.

  When Lola could not be found, I didn’t know what to do. Farley was in a tizzy, all of the adults were moderately troubled and Whit was even thinking of canceling the snow day.

  That would be a disaster.

  Because, then, they’d all stay here.

  “Look,” I said. “I’m going to be here while you’re gone. I’ll keep looking for Lola. I’ll call you the second I find her.” I stared Farley in the eye. “And I will find her.”

  “Promise?”

  I knew better than to make promises I couldn’t keep, but I also knew, this time, it had to be done.

  Or they might stay!

  “I promise.”

  I watched them go with a big smile—a biiiig one—waving until their SUVs disappeared from sight.

  Phew.

  I turned to the staff who hadn’t gone with Coop on the snow day or with Ken on the shopping expedition.

  My smile widened.

  Because they’d all gone—Olivia and Wren with Ken to shop with the ladies, and Jed and Ben were stoked to go on the mountain trip. Only Noel and I remained, and I knew Noel would hole himself up in his room and moon over Darcy all day.

  So after I did the breakfast dishes and a quick tidy up of the guest rooms—in case they came back early—I headed for the staff lodgings because, thank you very much, I fancied a nap.

  My eager footsteps stalled as I stepped into our kitchen and a deep low growl resonated through my bones. My gaze snapped to Mason’s bed which, for some reason, Coop had put in the kitchen. And yup, there the beast was all curled up. And growling. At me.

  “Seriously, Mason? I gave you Mexican food!” I took a step closer and he lifted his head. The growl continued to rumble.

  I glanced at my bedroom door. I could see it from here. Could I reach it before he tore me limb from limb? Dare I risk it?

  Damn Coop for bringing a dog. He’d said Mason was a sweetie pie. A sweetie pie! Really? Did sweetie pies growl at their unarmed Mexican food smugglers?

  I spotted the doggie treats on the counter; they were a couple steps away too. Dangerous, but probably worth it. I sucked in a breath and made my move.

  The second I touched the dog treat bag, Mason’s energy shifted and he licked his chops. I riffled around in the bag as I came closer, just to hold his attention. He tracked the bag’s every move. Good. No more growls. Closer… Closer…

  Once I reached his side, and his attention was still on the bag, I pulled out a treat and let him take it from the palm of my hand. I tried to avoid the drool-cicles, but failed.

  “See? I’m your friend, Mason.” I patted him on the head and he grinned at me and everything seemed totally fine.

  But then, something happened. Something horrible.

  Ever see the movie Alien?

  Yeah. That.

  From the curl of Mason’s body, a diminutive alien began to slowly unwind. My heart thudded. My eyes were locked on that horrific sight. Yeah, an alien, just like the one in the movie, except this one had a Chihuahua’s face and tiny needle-sharp teeth and a really horrific high-pitched bark.

  Oh yeah. I was much more afraid of this one. I took an instinctive step back, but Lola, for that was certainly who this was, had a lot to say to me.

  Fortunately, no hable Chihuahua, so I had no idea what she was going on about, but once I gave her a treat she stopped yapping. So, that was good. I was able to make it to my bedroom unmolested.

  Before I indulged myself in a twenty minute nap, I called Farley to let her know I found Lola. I didn’t tell her where, though, because, yeah.

  The popstar wasn’t quite as gracious when she returned to the house and I had to show her where Lola was—because I had been unable to detangle the two. As we stepped into the staff kitchen, she screeched. “That monster has my dog!”

  “No. He’s very gentle.” I reached in. Mason growled. “Okay. He’s just very protective of Lola. You see? He won’t hurt her. They’re friends.”

  “He�
�s enormous! What if he eats her?”

  “He’s never eaten a Chihuahua,” I said with supreme confidence, because I knew it was true.

  In the end, we could not extract Lola from Mason’s arms. Neither dog would allow it. We had to wait until Coop and his party came back from the mountain, so he could pry Lola from Mason’s hold, which was no easy feat, with Lola fighting him like that.

  And then, after the Chihuahua had been returned to her owner, Mason just pouted all evening.

  The guests went straight to bed after dinner—now that is a Christmas miracle—so we all got an early night. I was just getting into my book when someone knocked on my door. Don’t you hate when that happens? I blew out the required annoyed snort and got up to answer it. I didn’t bother to think about what I was wearing.

  I should have thought about what I was wearing.

  Because it was PJs. Flannel, of course, with little smiling bacon slices all over it. A onesie. With feet.

  Of course, it was Coop at the door. He had a bar of soap and a towel flung over his shoulder, but whatever he was going to say seemed to lodge in his throat when he took me in. He laughed. Just once. Just a, “Hah!” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “I, ah, never knew you liked bacon so much,” he said, once he recovered his composure.

  “Can I help you?” I asked in a frosty tone. I tried not to think about the mud mask I’d almost put on.

  “Yeah. Please. I need to take a shower and the other bathrooms are being used. Do you mind if I use yours?”

  My room was the only one with a private bath. It made sense that he would ask to use it if the other bathrooms were occupied. Didn’t it? And who was I to hog all the amenities?

  I stepped back and ushered him in. “Sure.”

  “I’m, ah, not interrupting anything, am I?”

  I glanced around the room, searching for the hidden lover and bottles of Malbec, just breathing. “Nope.”

  “Great. Great.” He stepped inside and closed the door and then we both just kind of stood there awkwardly.

  “Well,” I said. Or maybe that was all I could manage. Have I mentioned my room was small? It was. Small. And he was so big he took all the space. He very definitely took up all the oxygen. My head spun.