Christmas on Mistletoe Lane--Includes a bonus short story

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Christmas on Mistletoe Lane--Includes a bonus short story Page 13

by Annie Rains

His gaze was steadfast. “Kaitlyn, I’m trying to be a good guy here.”

  She folded her arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Good guys don’t make plays for a woman when they know they aren’t staying.”

  She shook her head. “If you’re so eager to leave, then why did you agree to stay in the first place, Mitch? Why didn’t you just go?”

  “I couldn’t do that to Mable. Or to you.”

  “I was a stranger. You didn’t owe me anything.” Tears burned in her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry in front of him though. No way, no how.

  “Kaitlyn.” He took a step closer. “You’re upset about last night. I get it.”

  “Last night was poor judgment on my part. I’m glad you wanted nothing to do with me. I couldn’t be happier that you saw me with my shirt off, then rolled over and started snoring.”

  “That’s not what happened, and you know it,” he said. “I did want you. I think that was pretty obvious.”

  The image of his heated gaze on her flicked across her mind. He hadn’t turned away immediately when she’d stripped off her top. “What’s obvious is that you and I could never work together. I don’t know what my grandma was thinking when she set up this arrangement.”

  “Kaitlyn,” he said, reaching for her hand, “it’s not that I didn’t want to have sex with you. Because believe me, I did.”

  Her body temperature dialed up.

  “Ahem.”

  Both Kaitlyn and Mitch snapped their attention to the corner where a few of the guests stood watching them. Kaitlyn pulled her hand away from Mitch’s.

  “Hi, guys,” Paris said. “Um, sorry for interrupting this, um…”

  “Lovers’ quarrel,” Mrs. Krespo called behind him. “That’s what you call this.” She seemed to be an expert on everything this morning.

  “No.” Kaitlyn shook her head but she couldn’t explain away what the guests had just witnessed. Mitch had just mentioned her and sex in the same sentence. “We’re not lovers,” she said before turning and walking toward the kitchen to clean up.

  And not being lovers was the problem.

  * * *

  Mitch ran his forearm across the layer of perspiration on his forehead. He’d worked himself into a sweat setting up spotlights to shine on Mable and Henry’s wooden cutouts that he’d put out on Thanksgiving morning. People loved to drive around and look at decorations this time of year. In addition to spotlights, Mable had always insisted the house be strung with lights from top to bottom. Mitch had always helped Henry with the lot while Henry fussed and complained under his breath.

  Damn, he missed Henry just as much as he did Mable. Those two made Christmas nice. And they’d always taken Mitch to the Lights on the Lake event while his mom watched the inn when he was growing up.

  After last night, he guessed he didn’t have to worry about taking Kaitlyn to the event anymore. As angry as she was, she may never talk to him again.

  Done, he carried his ladder back to the shed and retreated to his truck. He needed a shower but he wasn’t about to go in the room he and Kaitlyn had shared last night to grab clean clothes or rinse off. He wasn’t crazy. He had clothes at his mom’s house. She would let him shower there, and he guessed maybe he’d stay the night with his mom too. He supposed he’d be staying the next month with her.

  Mitch rounded the corner of Mistletoe Lane and pulled into the driveway of the second house on the right. He got out of the truck and walked up the porch steps of his childhood home, remembering how he used to race out the front door when his dad drove up from work every evening. He’d idolized the man. His dad was the exact kind of guy he’d hoped to be. The kind he’d never live up to, no matter how hard he tried.

  “Mom?” he called, as he stepped inside the house.

  “Mitch. What a surprise. I thought you’d be busy with the duties of hosting a bed and breakfast.” She walked through the living room in her bathrobe.

  “Why aren’t you dressed?” he asked. The mother he knew was always dressed before sunup. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  She waved a hand. “Stop treating me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you’re my parent and not the other way around. It’s the day after Thanksgiving. I worked hard and ate too much. I’m taking the day off if that’s okay with you.”

  He kissed her temple and sat on the couch, waiting for her to sit across from him in the recliner. He couldn’t help scrutinizing her every movement. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Never better.” She wiggled back into the chair and looked up at him. “I’m taking the vitamins like Dr. Jacobs told me to, and I’m already feeling much better. I have the energy of a twenty-year-old, in fact.”

  He pointed a finger. “I know you. Just because you have renewed energy doesn’t give you a license to double your workload. Have you gotten your lab results back yet? Maybe we should call and see what the holdup is.”

  “I’m fine, Mitch. I promise. You, on the other hand, are not,” she said. “I can see it on your face. What’s going on?”

  He leaned forward over his knees and blew out a breath. “I got in a fight with Kaitlyn. I wish I didn’t have to stay and fulfill Mable’s final wishes. It’s time for me to get out of Sweetwater Springs.”

  His mom was quiet for a long moment. “For such a brave man, which you are, you always seem to be running.”

  “I’m not running. I just don’t belong here. You know that. I’m just idling while I wait for the security job to open up in January.”

  “You could find temporary employment here until then.”

  “In Sweetwater Springs?” He grunted. “There’s no money to be made here.”

  “Money? Is that what this is about, Mitchell Douglas?” she said with a scoff. “I don’t care about money. And I didn’t raise you to care about it either.”

  “I need to make sure you’re provided for.”

  “You’ve spent the last ten years making sure I was well taken care of, sending me money that I never asked for.” She lifted her chin stubbornly. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m the parent? I support you, not vice versa.”

  “You lost the job with the Eversons because of me. For the past decade you’ve worked twice as hard for half as much, and that’s my fault. So sue me if I just want to make sure you’re taken care of.” And judging by how run-down she looked, he wasn’t doing a very good job. “I shouldn’t have let you prepare Thanksgiving dinner yesterday.”

  “Nonsense. I don’t need taken care of. All I need is for my son to be happy. And you’re not happy.”

  Happy. Mitch had experienced bouts of that since coming back here, which surprised him. Most of that had to do with Kaitlyn but he’d messed that up just like he had every good thing in his life.

  He ran a hand over his head, missing the way his crew cut used to bristle at the touch. Now his marine corps crop was grown out. He’d liked it last night when Kaitlyn’s fingers had sifted through his longer hair while they’d kissed beside the tree though. Right before she’d invited him to her bed and taken off her shirt.

  He cleared his throat, shaking that thought away. “I’m not staying at the B and B tonight.”

  “Well, where are you staying, then?” his mom asked.

  He thought it was a joke at first but her expression was deadpan. “Here.”

  She grimaced. “Sorry, honey. I gave the guest room to your aunt Nettie tonight. She’s arriving in about an hour. Better late than never for Thanksgiving, right? Which I guess means I need to get up and get dressed.”

  Mitch furrowed his brow. “Okay, well, I can sleep on the couch.”

  “I don’t think so, dear. You know how Aunt Nettie and I are once we get together. We stay up all hours, watching movies and laughing.” His mom shook her head. “I could really use a girls’ night with her. You’re the one always telling me I need to relax and have fun. This’ll do that for me.”

  Aunt Nettie was h
is father’s sister but she and his mom were as close as if they were blood related. “So I can’t stay here?” he clarified. “In the home that you said would always be open to me?”

  “It is. Just not while your aunt Nettie is here. I suggest you make up with Kaitlyn before sunset.” She shifted and stood back up.

  “Seriously? You don’t want my help and then refuse to give me a place to stay?” He said it teasingly but his world was being turned upside down right now. Where was he going to stay tonight? Even if he made up with Kaitlyn, the only room available at the inn was her room, in her bed—and that had been a disaster last night. He didn’t want to repeat it. And he didn’t think he had enough self-control to last another night without giving in to his desire and ravaging Kaitlyn’s body.

  He got up and headed toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” his mom asked.

  “To find a place to stay. Not at the B and B. I’ll check with Tuck or Alex.” And if they couldn’t help, he’d get a room at a hotel up the mountain—although they might be full because of the Thanksgiving holiday.

  “Just don’t run from that beautiful woman too long. She’s a jewel. Some other man is liable to snap her up.”

  Mitch didn’t bother acknowledging that comment. First off, he wasn’t running. Secondly, Kaitlyn finding another man was exactly what he was afraid of. He wasn’t supposed to be interested in or attracted to her. Wasn’t supposed to care about her in a way that went beyond a business relationship.

  Stepping outside, he took a moment to breathe in the fresh mountain air. There was no place on earth that cleared his lungs so easily. And no place where he felt more claustrophobic either. Fishing his cell phone out of his pocket, he tapped on Alex’s contact in his list and thumbed the phone number. Alex had an extra guest room that Mitch had stayed in during past visits to Sweetwater Springs.

  “What’s up, man?” Alex asked in lieu of a hello.

  “Hey, buddy. I need a place to stay tonight,” Mitch said.

  “Thought you were staying with Mable’s granddaughter now,” Alex teased.

  Word in a small town traveled about as quickly as an echo from Wild Blossom Bluffs. “Not anymore,” he said.

  “Tuck and I are actually meeting up at the Tipsy Tavern tonight for our own little post–turkey day celebration. Why don’t you join us?”

  “A drink sounds great, actually,” Mitch said, sucking in some more of the cool mountain air. If he could bottle up this stuff and take it with him when he left, he’d be good to go.

  “Great,” Alex said. “I’ll head over there around seven.”

  “See you then.” Mitch hung up and headed back inside. No matter if his mom didn’t have a bed for him tonight, he still needed a shower. He’d needed an ice-cold one since last night. Between that and a few drinks with the guys tonight, he planned to get his head on straight before facing Kaitlyn again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  He’ll come back,” Paris said, taking a seat beside Kaitlyn on the couch later that evening. She had a design sketchbook in her lap. Even though she would probably never work in New York again, she still liked designing big, beautiful rooms that felt magical when you stepped inside them.

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Mitch is the reason you’re moping, right?”

  She leaned back into the couch cushion with a heavy sigh. “Well, you and several other guests heard our argument this morning. You know what happened.” She shook her head, still embarrassed over it all. “Rule number one of hosting a bed and breakfast: Don’t throw yourself at any of the guests or your business partner. Why didn’t my grandmother leave me a rule book for this job?”

  Paris chuckled. He was holding a glass of red wine in his hand. Shouldn’t a biker drink beer? He was a walking contradiction in her mind. “Life doesn’t have rule books, unfortunately.”

  “Have you found anyone who sparks your interest since your divorce?” she asked, suddenly curious to know more about him.

  Paris shrugged. “Not really.”

  She frowned. “Well, I was happy to hear you might be making Sweetwater Springs your home. I’m new here too so that would be one more friend I’d have in town.”

  “Who needs romance when you have friends, right?” He bumped his shoulder against hers. “You know what? The best medicine for a broken heart is a night out on the town. That’s my experience at least.”

  “A night out?” she asked.

  “Yeah. We should go have drinks,” he said, and she was beyond certain he wasn’t flirting with her. She had nothing to worry about with Paris.

  “I would but I can’t leave the inn. A host’s job is never done. No more barhopping for me,” she said on a laugh.

  “Did someone say bar?” Joe asked, bounding off the bottom stair with Missy following close behind him in a short skirt and skintight leggings. “Because I am so in.”

  Kaitlyn had learned that their prolonged stay was because of their fall break from college. Both of their families lived too far to drive back for the week. And while Kaitlyn had been put off by their behavior at first, she’d grown fond of the young, overly affectionate couple.

  She turned to look at them. “The Tipsy Tavern downtown is supposed to be good. Why don’t you two go with Paris and check it out?” She narrowed her gaze at the couple. “Wait. Are you at least twenty-one?”

  Missy giggled. “I love getting asked that question. I just became legal last month.”

  “I love being asked too,” Kaitlyn said. “Even if it isn’t happening as often as I’d like anymore,” she whispered to Paris.

  He laughed and then nudged her with his elbow. “The Jamiesons told me earlier they were going out for drinks tonight. They asked me to come along. Why don’t we all go?”

  Kaitlyn hedged. “I’m not sure the Krespos would enjoy that. But I can stay here while the rest of you go have fun. Really, I’m fine.”

  They all turned toward a sudden commotion that erupted at the top of the stairs as Mrs. Krespo chased her husband with her cane down the open hallway.

  The Trapps peeked their heads out of their room to see what the disturbance was.

  “Uh-oh,” Kaitlyn said, prepared to run interference.

  Instead, Paris stood to address the group. “A few of us are going out to a bar tonight. Do you all want to come along?”

  “It’s okay if you don’t,” Kaitlyn assured them, knowing the older couple would likely refuse.

  “Oh, I’d love to!” Mrs. Krespo said, surprising her.

  “Us too,” Chris and Nate agreed, heading out of their room.

  Paris turned back to Kaitlyn with a mischievous grin. “Looks like a group event. I’ll call a taxi van. No need for a DD. Just a good time.”

  A good time. Right. Going to a bar with two horny college kids, a mysterious biker, a gay couple, newlyweds, and an old lady with a cane and a husband who loved her as much as he seemed to fear her. What was the worst that could happen?

  * * *

  An hour later, Kaitlyn walked into the Tipsy Tavern with Paris, Mr. and Mrs. Krespo (canes and attitude included), the Jamiesons, Chris and Nate Trapp, and the young college lovebirds. Maybe this would be a regular activity at the B&B, she considered. Friday nights at the tavern. Yeah. She liked the idea.

  Paris pointed at a long table with a booth lining the wall toward the back of the tavern. “We’ll all fit over there. Not that we’ll be sitting. That dance floor looks tempting.”

  “I’m not much of a dancer,” she called over her shoulder, unsure if Paris could even hear her over the cacophony of music, laughter, and glasses clinking on the scarred wooden tables. She looked back to make sure the Krespos were okay. Mrs. Krespo whacked her cane back and forth, scooting people to the side in a not-so-subtle way.

  Kaitlyn choked on a laugh. It was hilarious and a bit concerning. She reached the back table and plopped down in a seat.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Chris shook his head. “Dance first, drink later.�
��

  “I think it goes the other way around. I need drinks to make me dance. And maybe not even then.” She signaled the waitress who was walking by.

  “Need a drink?” the twentysomething blond asked. She was tall, thin, and beautiful in an obvious kind of way.

  Kaitlyn remembered Mitch saying he’d had a one-night stand with a waitress here a few months back. She sized the waitress up with a smile, wondering if this was the one. “Yes, anything strong that you have on tap, please.”

  “Coming right up.” The waitress headed off.

  “Are you checking her out?” Nate plopped down in the space next to Kaitlyn.

  “Yes. Actually, I was. But not for the reason you’re thinking. Someone I know had a fling with a waitress here. Just wondering if it was her.”

  “You are as see-through as that woman’s dress over there.” He gestured to the dance floor and a woman who looked naked at first glance. “Would that someone happen to be Mitch?” he asked. “And are you jealous?”

  Chris snuggled in beside Nate, leaning over to listen. “She has good reason to be jealous. I hate everyone in your past,” he told Nate. “Even the ones I like I still hate.”

  Nate grinned. “Must be love,” he told his husband.

  “Oh, no.” Kaitlyn shook her head. “Mitch and I aren’t…We don’t have that kind of relationship. We just, well, we might have kissed. But only twice.”

  “You’re not telling us anything we don’t know. The whole house is buzzing about that fight this morning and what happened last night.” Chris bounced his eyebrows.

  Kaitlyn sighed and looked around. The Jamiesons were seated at the bar. The Krespos had moved to the dance floor along with the college kids. By the looks of it, Mr. Krespo still had quite a few moves. Mrs. Krespo was actually smiling as she tried to keep up with him.

  Kaitlyn turned back to Chris, Nate, and Paris. “Unfortunately, nothing happened last night, and that’s the problem.” She covered her face with both hands. There was nothing like complete honesty with friends—kind of—to humble you.

  A drink was set in front of her. She lifted her head, thanked the waitress—whom they were all watching with interest now—and took a healthy sip.

 

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