Mistletoe Magic (A Holiday Romance Novel Book 2)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
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About the Author
Mistletoe Magic
A Holiday Romance Novel
By Amanda Siegrist
Copyright © 2017 Amanda Siegrist
All Rights Reserved.
This ebook may not be re-sold or re-distributed to another person unless consent is given by this author. If you wish to share this book, please purchase an additional copy. It may not be re-produced in any format for your own rights. If you did not purchase this book, please return to the retailer to purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All characters in this book are a product of the author’s imagination. Places, events, and locations mentioned are created to either help inspire the story, or are real and used in a fictitious manner.
Note: The towns mentioned in this story are fictitious, except for St. Cloud. That is a real city in Minnesota full of culture, beauty, and kindness. You should visit it someday.
Merry Christmas.
May your days and nights be filled with holiday cheer!
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
More Books
Sign up for my newsletter
About the Author
Chapter 1
Her back ached, her feet, her legs, her arms, hell, her fingers even tingled with unnecessary pain. Grabbing the plates from the countertop, she whisked through the kitchen double doors as if she had no aches or pains anywhere on her body. Because in her line of work, she needed to ignore it. Today was a rare day feeling like she was.
“Lunch rush over?”
“Sure is. Just cleaning up now.” Theresa smiled at Bonzo as she tossed the dirty dishes into the sink filled to the rim with hot soapy water.
They had a nice ritual. She cleared everything up. He washed. Then she dried and put everything away. In between, of course, helping any customers that strolled into the diner as he continued to cook.
“Today lasted longer than normal.”
Blowing out a heavy breath, she offered another smile. “You know how it is during the holidays. Stop making such good pies.”
Bonzo winked. “Stop making such good coffee.”
Laughing, she walked back to the front. He sure liked to make jokes. Because that was the silliest one she ever heard. She made horrible coffee. Absolutely disgusting. He knew it. She knew it. Everybody knew it. Yet, they all came flocking in for her coffee. One of these days, she might actually make a good pot.
It’s not as if she didn’t try. She searched the Internet for the perfect way to make a pot of coffee that would put a smile on everyone’s face.
Make sure to use the correct kind of water. She laughed when she saw that, wondering why the type of water would make a difference. But it does. It suggested filtered or bottled water for the best flavor, and on occasion tap water is acceptable. And don’t pour in cold water or the coffee won’t be as strong, too hot and it’ll burn and give off a bitter taste. She almost stopped searching just by the water facts.
Next, the ideal amount of scoops for the coffee grounds. One to two tablespoons of grounds to every six ounces of coffee. She made a big pot of coffee, so she tended to put in quite a few scoops. Messing with the amounts never made a difference. Each pot still tasted disgusting. Even to her.
Then there was the perfect filter. Bonzo bought filters in bulk from his food supplier, so she had no control over that. She figured Bonzo wouldn’t steer her wrong in that department since he also waited for the day she would make a delicious pot of coffee.
And the last important detail she found was to thoroughly clean the coffee pot regularly. She did. Like a maniac, making sure it sparkled like a twinkling diamond.
Even after all of her research, pouring over information from several different sites, her coffee making skills still failed her horribly. Honestly, she figured the coffee pot just hated her because she watched Bonzo make it, doing exactly what she did, and it tasted delicious.
Whatever. Her coffee making skills still had the diner hopping because people were always curious what it would taste like that particular day.
Shuffling back and forth on the floor, she cleared every table, wiping it down and rearranging everything just right. Not one person entered to interrupt her great pace. It was best if she worked fast because her body was ready to collapse into a big heap. The faster she went, the better chance she wouldn’t faint from the aches.
The bell above the door rang with merry. Glancing up, her heart froze, then jumped into a dizzying pitter-patter rhythm that always happened when he walked in.
“Officer Crowl, good afternoon.” She could only hope he couldn’t hear her heart racing like a thousand wild horses.
“Afternoon, Theresa.” He stopped before her, less than two feet of counter space separating them. “I’ll have a cup of coffee.”
He didn’t smile or offer any other pleasantry. Straight and to the point. He always acted that way. To everyone. Not just her. Which was why she never took offense to it, or got her hopes down that he didn’t like her. Of course, she knew he didn’t like her anyway, regardless of his lack of a smile. He hadn’t been the same since his fiancé died over a year ago. A tragic car accident that shook their small town at the time. Cynthia had been the homecoming queen three years straight and the Mulberry Princess four years straight. Theresa never had the gumption or courage to enter the contest to be crowned the Mulberry Princess, the title given away every summer during the Fourth of July festival and picnic.
Cynthia had been the town sweetheart. Loved by everyone. Especially by Officer Crowl. They’d been the golden couple. He had been the star quarterback of the football team and almost went pro until he hurt his knee in a skiing accident in the off season of his junior year in college.
She always had the worst crush on him, since ninth grade, and he didn’t know she existed. Even now, she didn’t think he really saw her. Just another waitress serving him a cup of coffee that would taste awful.
“Theresa? Can I get a cup of coffee?” His brows rose.
“Oh, yes, of course. My bad.” She laughed nervously and turned around to the coffee pot. You’re an idiot. Pouring the coffee quickly in a to-go cup, because he never stayed for his coffee, she realized she should’ve been more prepared for his arrival. He was like clockwork. Every day at two o’clock, right before his shift started, he came in for his coffee. She could only blame her tiredness.
Still feeling off-kilter, she turned back toward him, nearly dropping the coffee cup. His pi
ercing brown eyes, almost black, looked at her with such intensity. Probably thinking what an imbecile she was, just standing there, staring at him moments before.
“One coffee.” Another nervous laugh slipped out.
“Thanks.” He tossed a five to the counter and took a sip. A wince crossed his face.
“That bad?”
He coughed. “Not at all. Have a good day.”
“You, too.” Yet her words were lost on him, as he was already halfway to the exit. Obviously, he couldn’t get away fast enough. He always left her a decent tip, though.
Lame. That’s what she was. Pining and wishing and hoping for a man that would never return her affection. Oh, well. She learned early on in life she didn’t always get what she wanted and it was best just to move on.
The bell above the door rang again. She knew right then, she’d be gaining five pounds that day.
“Lynn Duncan! I swear, if you’re here dropping off more cookies, I’m gonna…gonna…become fat.”
She laughed as Lynn set a container down in front of her, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “What, you don’t like my cookies? I make them for the diner, not you specifically.”
“Yeah, but they’re soooo good and I can’t resist.” Theresa opened the container and snatched one, chomping down with delight. “Ugh! Can you seriously make them terrible, just once?”
Lynn took a seat, shaking her head as she laughed with her. “Elliot wouldn’t like that.”
“Me neither.”
“I wasn’t going to bring another batch in until Friday, but then Mrs. Thompson stopped into the bakery and said you guys ran out, so I whipped out another batch today instead.”
“Only you could whip out a batch of cookies and they taste like perfection.”
“Thank you. How about some coffee before I pick up Laura from school?”
Cocking a brow, she smirked. “You sure? You know my coffee.”
“Best coffee I’ve ever had.”
“Now I know you’re jesting.” Theresa pointed a finger at her as she laughed, then turned around to get her a cup.
“Elliot loves your coffee, too.”
“Chief Duncan is just too kind to say it tastes disgusting.” Theresa set the cup of coffee before her.
“I saw Officer Crowl just left. He comes in every day for a cup.” Lynn raised the cup to take a sip.
“I guess he’s just being kind as well.”
“Or…”
Wishful thinking. Please don’t go there, Lynn.
“Does he have any clue you like him?”
Lynn must’ve interpreted her expression and decided to change tactics.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Taking another sip, Lynn looked like she was trying to choose her words carefully. Theresa liked her. She met Elliot Duncan, Mulberry’s Chief of Police, last Christmas, and it didn’t take long for them to get engaged. A few months later, just as the flowers started to bloom, they were married. A few months after that, Lynn opened her own bakery two stores down from the diner. She made everything from breads to doughnuts to cookies to cakes to any sweet anyone asked of her. Bonzo, the owner of the Mulberry Diner, loved her cookies, and asked her to supply the diner. Her and Lynn had become good friends just from her weekly visits to drop off cookies.
“He’s always so serious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile.”
“He has the best smile.” When he used to display one. Groaning, Theresa slumped her head to the counter to hide her embarrassment. “I didn’t just say that.”
“But you did.”
Lifting her head, she saw Lynn’s cheeks flush a bright red.
“I’m still in that honeymoon stage. I want everyone to be happy. Especially around Christmas.”
“Have you finished shopping for Laura yet?”
And just like that, the conversation moved along. She didn’t want to think about Officer Crowl, let alone talk about him. Distancing herself from him was crucial. Even when he came in to grab his coffee, she always addressed him as Officer Crowl instead of Aiden. It was easier. Way, way easier to control her crush on him and never let him know how she felt.
He was out of her reach. She accepted that. She didn’t want to explain that to anyone else.
❄
Aiden slammed his car door closed, taking another sip of coffee before putting it in the cup holder. He couldn’t hold back another wince. Damn, the coffee was…bad. Not as bad as yesterday’s batch, but still…bad.
He wondered if Theresa would ever get it right. Maybe. Maybe not. A bet was going on at the precinct when, or if, she’d ever make a good cup. He threw twenty in the pot, saying she’d get it right by Christmas. Although, as he backed out of the parking spot, then took another sip, he figured he’d be losing twenty bucks.
Driving around, he waited impatiently for a call to come through the radio because it was always better for him to be occupied than his mind working in overdrive. Sitting at home, in the silence, the loneliness, that’s all he did was think. Think about her. Think about regrets. Think about what was said before she walked out of the house. Thinking was the bane of his existence. Working was always better than time to himself to think.
Two hours later, no calls coming in, which was usual for their small town, he pulled into a spot outside the precinct. He decided he’d take a stroll up and down Main Street than get back into his car. He could use another cup of coffee. Last night had been—
Thinking again. Not good.
He stepped out of his vehicle. The cold wind bit into his cheeks.
“How’s the day going so far, Officer Crowl?”
Aiden glanced to his right. “Just fine, Chief. A little slow, so I’d thought I’d get a refill of coffee.”
“Not too bad today, huh?” Chief Duncan laughed. Aiden gave a slight tilt to his lips, the only indication he was amused by that as well.
He hadn’t laughed or smiled in over a year. There wasn’t much for him to laugh and smile about. Not when Cynthia was gone. Because of him.
“I know Lynn restocked the cookies today. You should grab one. They’re delicious.”
“I’ve no doubt.” He waved in goodbye as Chief Duncan headed for his truck, and most likely, home to his family.
He wanted to smile and feel happy for him, but even a simple emotion, like happiness for another person, was difficult on the best of days to conjure. He always wanted what Chief Duncan had. Now, he’d never get it. He wasn’t worthy of it anymore.
Pulling open the diner door, the bell rang annoyingly in his ears. He saw an older couple in a booth eating the house special for the week, meat loaf and corn. In another booth, Councilman Jenkins sat with another guy he didn’t recognize. He nodded at him, then searched for Theresa. He didn’t see her anywhere on the floor. She must be in the back. Grabbing a seat at the counter, his fingers tapped a rhythmic pattern as he waited for her to come out.
Sitting still wasn’t good. His thoughts roamed when he sat for too long.
The double doors swung open and Theresa’s smiling face breached his thoughts before they could turn anywhere else.
“Officer Crowl, hello again.”
“I need more coffee.” He pushed his cup from earlier closer to the edge to her side of the counter. “Please.”
He knew he could be standoffish to some people, especially people who didn’t know him, but he could work on his manners a little. Her smile had dimmed at his words, at his lack of manners. He loved it when she smiled. Seeing it disappear wasn’t something he wanted.
She had the brightest smile he’d ever seen. So large and consuming and infectious. Sometimes it made him want to smile in return, just because. Then Cynthia’s face punched him in the gut and his frown went lower instead.
She grabbed his cup and turned to the coffee pot.
“It was that delicious, was it?”
“Slow night.” He coughed. What a dumb response, and an insult. “I enjoy your coffee.” Her
coffee might never taste good, but he would never intentionally offend her.
Swiveling towards him slowly, her smile was still there, just not shining within her eyes. “Didn’t your mother tell you it’s not nice to lie? I know how badly my coffee tastes.”
He took the cup from her, his fingers grazing hers. A tingle of something zapped him. Something he hadn’t felt in forever. Something he should try his damndest to ignore. Something he didn’t want to feel. Something he didn’t deserve to feel.
“I don’t lie.”
With that, he threw two bucks on the counter and left.
Yeah, she had the prettiest smile on the planet. It didn’t matter. Nothing did. Not since he lost Cynthia.
❄
“Be careful out there, girlie. It’s cold out. I think it’s about time you got a car.”
She patted Bonzo’s shoulder. “You know I enjoy walking. It’s not too cold. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The little bell above the door jangled merrily as she walked out. Pulling her scarf tighter around her neck, she dipped her chin lower as she made the small jaunt to her home. Well, small jaunt in her eyes. Some would agree, like Bonzo, that it was a long walk to make, especially in winter. Three blocks straight, then a right, another four blocks before she took a left, then five more blocks.
She lived at the end of the road in a small house that she rented from Mrs. Tanzia, a sweet older woman who moved up north to live with her children. The rent was cheap, and her son, whenever something went wrong, was quick to have someone come over and fix it. Most spots were safe in Mulberry, but like every town, it had its slightly run-down areas. Her house happened to be in that part of town. She wasn’t ashamed of it. Nor did she ever feel unsafe. Nothing new from her childhood either. She had lived in this part of town her entire life. It suited her just fine.
Twenty minutes later, she saw her house, welcoming the warmth that was soon to come. Most days she didn’t mind walking. Today, well, it wasn’t one of them. The brisk wind biting into her cheeks, mingled with her hands that couldn’t stay warm even hidden in her coat pockets, confirmed how cold it truly was. And the soreness covering every inch of her body hadn’t dissipated once. A nice hot bath to soak her bones would be one of the first things she did.