Mistletoe Kisses & Christmas Wishes: A Christmas Romance Boxed Set Book Bundle Collection

by Leah Atwood

  “Great.” Jake adjusted the strap of his messenger bag higher on his shoulder. “Now, where are we headed? I’m starved.”

  “Well, I thought…” Chris turned his head just in time to see a blonde woman inside Streebecks holding a broom in one hand and reaching out to lock the door with the other. She kicked at the wall near the floor and the sign flicked off.

  Trying to hide his disappointment, he cleared his throat. “You know, I just remembered that Little Pizza Heaven stays open late.” He nodded in the direction they’d come from. “That’s over on Pine.”

  “Hey yeah, that sounds good.”

  Chris’ heart felt heavy as they slogged back the way they’d come. It would have been great to see Shelby again, but he probably wouldn’t have fared any better than he had the night before.

  He really needed to let it go and put his focus back on his work.

  The next afternoon, Shelby walked into Made to Inspire feeling more like Bridget Jones than Nancy Drew. Did she honestly think this was going to lead her to the green-eyed stranger? And even if it did, what were the chances that he’d look at her as anything other than a Good Samaritan? If she actually thought her dreams of romance with this guy were going to come true, she had to be downright delusional.

  Breathing in the cheerful scent of cinnamon and pine, she chided herself. She was just trying to do the right thing. That was all.

  Although the store teemed with customers, the only employee Shelby could see was the woman manning the register. Not wanting to seem too conspicuous while she waited for her to have a free moment, Shelby pretended to be a shopper giving the place a casual once-over.

  Whatever she’d been expecting, the charm factor of the shop took her by surprise. Mostly stocked with Christmas items, it had everything from hand-carved signs painted with sayings like Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, to handmade soaps and gift wrap.

  Sidestepping a rack filled with flavored oils, hot chocolate mixes, and jars filled with layered cookie ingredients, she gravitated toward a tree that was set up on the floor in the center of the room. Circling it, she looked at the variety of ornaments. A whimsical snowman made her smile, and a reindeer with a bright red nose brought out a chuckle. If she weren’t on a mission, she might be tempted to do a little shopping for herself. Why hadn’t she even thought of adding a touch of Christmas cheer to her apartment?

  Suddenly, her breath caught in her throat. There in front of her hung a tiny wooden Bible, carved to look like it was open to the book of Luke.

  Choking back unexpected tears, she tugged the ornament from its place on the tree and read the hand-painted words.

  Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.

  The familiarity of the lines of scripture washed her with vivid memory. All at once, she was a kid again, listening to her dad read the story of Jesus’ birth, as he did every Christmas.

  The thought stirred her heart. Her parents had always made sure that she and her younger brother Austin knew that all the fun trappings of the Christmas season were really just a bonus. That the real reason for celebrating was Jesus. She owed it to them not to let the true meaning of Christmas slip away from her personal celebration.

  An idea took hold, working its way past contemplation and straight to conviction. She would get herself a small tree and a few decorations, then take the time on Christmas to read the story of Jesus out loud, even if the only one there to hear it was Gerald the cat.

  Looking at the ornament in her hand, she firmed her resolve. This would make the perfect start to her own collection. Besides, making a purchase would give her an opportunity to speak to the clerk without coming across as a total weirdo.

  Turning toward the front of the store, she took a look at the bottom of the ornament and winced. Fifteen dollars. That was probably more than she’d spent total on Christmas decorations in her entire life, but she was an adult now. It would be money well spent. An investment in her Christmas spirit.

  Taking a firm hold on the ornament, she claimed her place at the end of the line.

  A huge sense of relief washed over Chris as he and Jake stepped out of the building where they’d had their meeting. The presentation had gone really well, but the grant committee had given no indication of how they had received it. Impact wouldn’t know if they would be given the grant until the group had an opportunity to discuss it.

  “Boy,” Jake shook his head as they started back toward their office. “Talk about a bunch of poker faces.”

  “I thought they seemed interested.” Chris tried to sound optimistic, but his sense of relief was being quickly replaced by one of dread. He didn’t want to think about what cuts they would have to make if they weren’t awarded this grant money.

  “You think they’ll make their decision before Christmas?”

  The slight quiver in Jake’s voice only increased Chris’ own feeling of impending doom. As they stopped at an intersection, he tried to roll the tension out of his shoulders. “Look. Why don’t we try not to think too much about it. The meeting went well. We were more than prepared, thanks to you, and our presentation was impressive—”

  “Thanks to you.”

  “Thanks to both of us. We did all that we can do and we just have to turn it over to God.”

  “Yeah. I know. It’s just that if we don’t get it, we have to resort to Plan B, and neither of us wants that.”

  Chris gritted his teeth. Plan B involved asking the staff who might be willing to have their hours cut. Replacing some of the employees with unpaid volunteers. There was also a chance that the board would decide to eliminate one of their programs altogether. Chris knew that Cornerstone was at risk and it made him a little queasy to think of that happening.

  “It’s out of our hands.” He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Let’s try to think about other things.”

  “Good idea.” The light changed and as they stepped into the street, Jake seemed to force a smile. “You know, the great thing about meeting in their office is we get decent coffee for a change.”

  “Now, that’s what I’m talking about. Let’s think about coffee.” Great. Chris had been trying all day to keep his mind off Shelby. But he couldn’t shake the image of her sweet smile.

  He pondered, half watching Jake check the messages on his phone. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Yeah.” Jake clicked his phone and shoved it back into his pocket. “What is it?”

  “Do you think there’s just one right person for everyone?”

  “So that’s your idea of ‘thinking about other things’?” Jake tossed him a puzzled glance as they kept walking. “I’d rather think about coffee.”

  “I’m serious.” He sidestepped out of the way of a mass of preoccupied teens passing them from the opposite direction.

  “I don’t know.” Jake’s brows rose into a knot as he considered the question. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

  “What if there really is just one person who God has picked out for each of us, but we’re so busy that we don’t know the signs when we see them?”

  Jake nodded. “If that’s true, don’t you think that God will keep creating opportunities? He can move mountains if He wants to.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  Jake tossed him a suspicious glance. “Why are you asking me this?”

  Chris shrugged. “Just batting around a theory.” Looking up, he realized they were approaching the gift shop where he’d bought the bells. He slowed his pace.

  Jake skidded to a near halt. “Something wrong?”

  “No, it’s just that this is where I bought those Christmas presents. You know, the bells.”

  Nodding, Jake looked pleased, as if the opportunity to give him a bad time would ease some of the anxiety of the day. “It always comes back to the ladies with you, doesn’t it?”

  Chris answered with a roll of his eyes. “I think I might go in and see if they have any more
.”

  “I thought you said you left them at home.”

  “That’s what I thought, but I couldn’t find them.”

  Jake shook his head. “Well, I need to get some emails sent off this afternoon. You coming back before you head over to Westlake?”

  Chris checked the time. Almost three. He was cutting it close as it was. “No, I think I’ll just stop in here then head on over to the rehearsal hall. I have to pick up the choir robes and the hand bells, then make it to the mall in time to meet the shuttle. Oh…” He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a laminated card on a lanyard. He handed it to Jake. “Make sure you have this. They won’t let you in without it.”

  Jake took it. “Thanks. See you in a while.”

  “Don’t be late.”

  “Right.” Jake snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “Them wild fillies need tamin’.”

  Shaking his head, Chris reached for the door of the gift shop. The fleeting and unwelcome thought that this might be the last Christmas that Cornerstone existed made him all the more determined to make tonight’s event special for his ladies. At least if he could have the bells to give to them tonight, that would show them how special they were to him.

  On second thought…he drew his hand back and took a step away from the door. The bells hadn’t exactly been cheap, and he was trying to stick to a budget. Paying for as much as he could with cash helped a lot, but he had spent the last of what he’d had in his wallet on last night’s pizza. He took out his phone to check his bank balance.

  A rainy mist hit his face, and he stepped under the shop’s awning. He shook his head at the gray sky. If only this Seattle ‘liquid sunshine’ would turn to snow, at least tonight might feel a little more like the Christmas season.

  He cast a glance up even higher. Is that asking too much?

  Chapter Seven

  By the time Shelby made it to the register, she had counted out fifteen ones from the tip money in her purse. She stepped into position wearing what she hoped looked like a friendly smile.

  Her effort was unfortunately lost on the clerk, a fortyish woman with strands of gray in her dark blonde chignon. Ignoring Shelby completely, she peered down at the ornament’s tag through her black reading glasses.

  “That will be sixteen forty-four,” the woman announced as she set the ornament on the corner of a pile of cream-colored paper, and began rolling it up in the top sheet.

  That much? Oh, right. How could she forget the sales tax?

  “Excuse me, but…” Counting out the extra bit from her change purse, Shelby tried to make her question sound like casual conversation. “Would you happen to be sales associate number one?”

  Snapping to attention, the clerk looked at her for the first time. “Why?” A tiny smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “Is there a problem?”

  “N…no.” Taking the white bag out of her backpack, Shelby tried to look reassuring. “It’s just that someone left this at the store where I work, and they didn’t come back for it. I thought the person who made the sale might remember something about the customer.” She dug the receipt out of the bag and held it up. “So…are you sales associate number one?”

  “No.” The woman’s mouth instantly turned down at the corners and she finished her wrapping with a little less care than when she’d begun. “I’m number two.”

  “Oh.” Shelby recoiled at the unrestrained resentment in the woman’s voice. “I’m…sorry.” Feeling awkward now, she took one of the boxes out of the bag and opened it. “These bells are so beautiful, and I’m just worried that whoever bought them won’t realize where they left them. They look really special.”

  “Oh, I love these.” The woman’s demeanor softened as she lifted the bell from its box. “The artist makes the bells herself and hand paints a different Christmas motif on each one.”

  Shelby nodded, pleased that her sense of the specialness of these bells had been confirmed. “So they’re each one of a kind?”

  “Yes.” She raised one eyebrow in a severe arch. “And I’m afraid that whoever lost these won’t be able to replace them.” She set the bell back into its nest. “I just sold the last one this morning.”

  “Oh.” Shelby reached out as the woman handed her the receipt for her own purchase. “I’d like to try to find the person if I can.” She cast a casual glance across the store. “If I could just talk to sales associate number one—”

  “Cynthia.” The word shot out of the woman’s mouth like a poison arrow. “She’s number one.” Her teeth seemed to gnash under her tightening lips. “Even though she’s only part time. I’m full time and I put in extra hours. Whenever I can.”

  Shelby bit her lip. What kind of workplace drama had she inserted herself into? “I’m sure you’re an excellent employee.”

  The woman grunted as she urged a man standing behind Shelby to step forward so she could ring up his purchase.

  Shelby shifted to one side, and waited for her to finish the transaction. “So…is Cynthia here?”

  “No.” The woman started to rearrange an assortment of wrapped Christmas candies next to her register. “She doesn’t work again until after Christmas.”

  “After Christmas? But that’s still three weeks away.”

  “I know.” The woman tilted her head toward a colorful Advent calendar on the wall behind her. “You can probably find her at her second job. She gets too busy with that this time of year to take shifts here.”

  “Oh?” Encouraged, Shelby returned the bells to her backpack, along with the bag containing her Bible ornament. “Where is her second job?”

  “She’s a carriage driver.” Her upper lip curled as she nodded toward the front window. “They’re all around downtown.”

  “Carriages? Oh…you mean the horse drawn ones? I’ve seen those.”

  “Yes. Well, she drives one. They park down by Westlake Center. You know, the mall?”

  Shelby nodded.

  “You can probably ask any of the other drivers. They’d all know her.” Her tone turned to something that, if she could have bottled it, could have been sold next to the store’s display of flavored vinegars. “Everyone just loves Cynthia.”

  Everyone but sales associate number two, Shelby thought dryly as she thanked her and hoisted her backpack onto her shoulder.

  With a long exhale, she turned for the door. Being Nancy Drew was getting more complicated than she’d anticipated.

  Heaving a sigh at the disappointingly paltry bank balance showing on his phone, Chris calculated how many days he had left till his next payday. Too many. He logged out of his account and put his phone back into his bag.

  It had been really tough this year having to agree to a wage freeze with inflation at an all-time high. But he couldn’t ask his team to do anything he hadn’t been willing to do too, so he had to remind himself to be careful with his funds.

  He might as well face it. Replacing the bells didn’t make a whole lot of sense. He should just go to the rehearsal hall and then head over to Westlake.

  Pulling the collar up on his jacket, he eased into the steady stream of people who apparently had money to burn, if the profusion of shopping bags swinging by their sides gave any indication. Wiping the light rain from his face, he thought about the other night, when he’d actually felt a little like one of them. Buying the bells had seemed extravagant, but he’d just gotten paid and it had felt good to be a bit indulgent.

  The memory made him smile. It was that feeling that had led him to decide to treat himself to a latte.

  Stopping at a light, he turned his head to the left and let his gaze settle on the Streebecks on the corner of the next block, and his thoughts to settle on Shelby.

  He shook his head. What was it about that girl that just drew him like a magnet?

  She wasn’t at all like most women he met who seemed to make themselves out to be something they weren’t. She looked like the kind of woman who could get caught in a rainstorm and not worry about her hair, or go for a
hike without freaking out about chipping a nail. She was gorgeous but real. He liked that about her. It felt like he could be himself around her too.

  Right, Chris. So why had he totally bumbled his attempt at making conversation?

  As the light changed and he started walking again, he did a little self-reprimand. He had been so flustered that night at Streebecks that he’d knocked the sugar off the table with his satchel, and dumped some of his stuff out right along with it. He’d been glad at that point that Shelby had still been in the back room and hadn’t witnessed his clumsiness. He’d been so embarrassed that he’d scooped everything up and gotten out of there in a hurry.

  He frowned. Come to think of it, he didn’t remember having the bag after he’d left the coffee place. Had he been so rattled that he’d left it sitting there?

  Changing his plans, he stepped up onto the curb and took a left. Streebecks was a block out of the way, but it didn’t matter. Unless he missed his guess, his bells were there, and with God’s providence Shelby would be there now too.

  Chapter Eight

  Feeling encouraged by her new lead and her resolve to bolster her Christmas spirit, Shelby stepped out of the gift shop and headed for Westlake Center. A light mist of almost-rain brushed against her face, and she glanced up at the gray sky. Maybe the challenge to her Christmas cheer had something to do with the weather. She was from Colorado, after all. Christmas meant snow, not rain. Maybe if it snowed, it would be easier to feel the spirit.

  Breathing in the heady smell of impending rain, she tried to remember what snow smelled like. It was no use. She lived in Seattle now and she’d just have to settle for a gray Christmas.

  After walking a couple of blocks, she looked ahead and saw the monorail gliding into the second-story station on the Fifth Avenue side of Westlake, just above the Nordstrom Rack. She bobbed from one side to the other in an attempt to see around the people ahead of her to the courtyard in front of the mall, where a few white carriages had attracted a small crowd. If Cynthia was one of those drivers, Shelby had better hurry or she might miss her chance to talk to her.