Holiday Hook Up: (Bachelors of Buttermilk Falls Book 4)

by Robyn Neeley

  Holiday Hook Up

  Bachelors of Buttermilk Falls (Book 4)

  Robyn Neeley

  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

  Epilogue

  Also by Robyn

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Adam Reed needed a woman to kiss and fast.

  He zipped up his black leather jacket and bolted down Main Street, trying to put as much distance as he could between him, the Sugar Spoon bakery, and all the angry single women who would soon be fast on his heels. His worn work boots slipped through the fresh powdered snow as the twinkling holiday lights guided his way along the otherwise dark street.

  It was Thursday night, and he’d failed yet again at predicting true love for one lucky Buttermilk Falls bachelorette. Unfortunately, the particular single lady, Pauline Maycock, didn’t see the name that appeared in the mixing bowl as a mistake.

  Unfortunate, indeed, since it was his name that appeared in the batter.

  Magical cake batter. Spells that predicted true love. He’d never asked for any of this, but here he was spending another Thursday night doing his best to get the spell right.

  When he told Pauline that his heart belonged to someone else and that his prediction was wrong, she seemed to take the news well. But her dozen or so female friends who had come to congratulate her—not so much. They wanted his head on a Christmas platter.

  Honestly, he couldn’t blame them. This was the third time he’d failed to predict a selected bachelorette’s soul mate. These women were outraged.

  And now he was a man on the run. There was no way in hell that the town’s eccentric mortician was his soul mate. Nope. They weren’t happening.

  Sure, he’d kissed Pauline last month after a few tequila shots at the Buttermilk Tavern. Okay, it was more like a big, blurry make out session in a dark corner booth that he’d only done to make his ex-girlfriend, Rachel Foster, jealous.

  When Rachel carried on with her date, Carter Manning, a few tables away without even a curious glance in his direction, Adam made a lame excuse that he had to help his younger brother, Tom, install a new flat screen and hightailed it out of there—alone.

  He’d admit it. What he’d done to Pauline was uncool. Not wanting to be a total asshole, he’d apologized to her the next morning in the Star Lite diner and invited her to join him for breakfast—his treat.

  She’d waved off his apology and had slid into the seat opposite him, admitting she’d also had too much to drink and had gotten carried away in the moment. She hadn’t seemed mad as they both attacked a stack of Mel’s infamous blueberry pancakes. At least she hadn’t shown it, but then again, Pauline was always sporting a surprisingly large grin for a woman that spent most of her time making up dead bodies. She was nice and all, but she wasn’t the one.

  He always thought that role belonged to Rachel, the town’s one-and-only florist who’d made his heart bloom from the moment they’d kissed behind the bleachers their senior year. Seven months later, they’d done more than that on prom night.

  They continued to date throughout her four years in college while he remained in Buttermilk Falls, working construction for his dad. They talked about marriage, but it was always something that they would do some day.

  The thing was, as the years ticked by, he wasn’t sure when he’d be ready to pop the inevitable question she’d been waiting patiently for him to ask. Things between them had been good—great even, but what if down the line it didn’t work out? It certainly hadn’t for his parents who had also been high school sweethearts.

  The last thing he wanted was to experience what his parents did—a huge public spectacle of a divorce. The whole town had been divided when Army Lieutenant James Reed had had an affair overseas and broke the heart of Buttermilk Falls sweetheart Amelia Reed. Their parents had tried to stay together for many years for the sake of Tom and him, but by the time they were teenagers, their mother had had enough.

  A few days after his fourteenth birthday, his pop moved out, and shortly after, his mother filed for divorce.

  While Tom didn’t let what happened to his parents influence his own desire to get married—and did just that last year to Bridget Dobson—Adam couldn’t kick his reservations. He flip-flopped all the time whether he was ready or not, but ultimately . . . forever was—well, it was forever.

  Rachel felt differently and finally put an expiration date on their “some day,” insisting he propose or they were done.

  He didn’t want to lose her, and he did want to be a father eventually, so he’d gotten an engagement ring—a beautiful cluster of small sparkling diamonds in a square frame, a style that she’d hinted she’d like. He’d tried for a week, popping the question in front of his bathroom mirror, but couldn’t do it without sweat forming on his forehead.

  When he admitted he wasn’t ready, she broke up with him.

  He tried on several occasions to talk to Rachel in the hopes of a reconciliation, but unfortunately, she wouldn’t hear any of it and avoided him like the plague.

  He stopped for a second to catch his breath, pausing at the Buttermilk Falls fire department’s two-story, red-brick building—his home away from home when he wasn’t at work.

  Those first few months as he adjusted to being single, his buddies at the fire department had been quick to include him for after-work beers and weekend poker games. Yeah, they’d been more than ready to take his money.

  He peeked through the window to see his pal Will Jenkins polishing the red fire engine. Will worked for his old man at the town’s only auto body shop and practically ran the place now that his mom and dad were spending the winter months in Florida.

  Adam could duck in there, but then his buddy would rib him for hiding from the bachelorettes, and it wasn’t like he wasn’t already the butt of all jokes lately with his new gift as the town’s latest love predictor.

  That’s right. Adam Reed—rescuer of beloved pet cats from tall oak trees by day and predictor of soul mates for bachelorettes by night. Well, the former was correct, but as far as the latter, he was still working on getting that new role right.

  A role he hadn’t even auditioned for let alone wanted.

  It all happened a few months ago when his distant cousin, Mary Reed, left his best friend, Josh Stevens, a message that her shimmering blue mixing spoon should be given to Adam.

  Strange—and downright spooky—given that Mary drowned in 1937; the blue mixing spoon had magical properties, and her message had been delivered via writing in cake batter from beyond.

  Her request made him an instant Buttermilk Falls celebrity and extremely popular among the town’s single ladies, dying to finally get their chance to find out the names of their soul mates.

  Before then, that information had only been given to bachelors during Batter Up nights.

  Yeah, magical mixing spoons and enchanted spells were new territory for him. Luckily, he had some help from the one witch in Buttermilk Falls who knew a thing or two about magic. Emma Stevens, Josh’s cousin and owner of the Sugar Spoon bakery, was the supreme Buttermilk Falls witch. Emma was well known for her Batter Up spell, in which, every Monday night, one selected bachelor received the name of his soul ma
te in the cake batter she whipped up.

  Yep. Cake batter, and Emma was damn good at casting that spell. She’d been doing it for years and even predicted that his brother and Bridget would end up together. Sure enough, they eloped in Las Vegas two months later and celebrated their one-year anniversary last summer.

  He zipped his coat to his chin and jogged across the street. At first, his new gift was kind of cool. Like he actually had a super power. Certainly, it added some zip to his daily routine, which had been rather mundane if he didn’t count the time last August when he’d assisted in putting out a cottage fire on Buttermilk Lake. Then again, he only held the water hose, barely stepping away from the fire truck.

  His life was definitely turned upside down when Josh convinced Emma into letting him and Adam hold a second Batter Up night each Thursday for the town’s single ladies. Emma wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but Josh pointed out that if they doubled the weekly matchmaking that meant more couples who would, no doubt, hire her and his sister, Abby, to cater weddings. That would mean more revenue for Taste the Magic catering that Abby ran with Emma’s help.

  He picked up his steps, passing the vacant space next to the fire station straight for the Majestic Theater. He really should have practiced discreetly with Emma first. Once word spread throughout town that he’d been given the blue mixing spoon’s power, single women came to the bakery in droves.

  So far, he’d attempted three spells. The first was on Wendy Prewitt who pretty much laughed in his face, announcing that her drunken one-night stand with gym trainer Tony Morreti had been a colossal mistake and she wasn’t going to spend her life with someone who had pet names for his biceps and triceps. She wasn’t off the mark there. His buddy did flex anytime he saw his reflection.

  The second attempt was on Annie Parker and that outcome had caused dead silence in the bakery because Scott Anderson showed up in her batter, and well, he was already engaged to her sister, Claire.

  Strike that. Was engaged. Neither of the ladies had been amused, and the word now tangling through the small-town grapevine was Annie and Scott may have been sneaking around behind Claire’s back. So, really, it was still up in the air whether he’d gotten the second prediction wrong, but outing cheating fiancés wasn’t really what Adam wanted to be known for.

  The last attempt that happened twenty minutes ago was one hundred percent wrong. He was not Pauline Maycock’s soul mate.

  And that’s why he needed to find a woman to kiss and fast.

  He pulled on the theater’s handle. Damn. The door was locked and there was no sign of the owner inside. He banged on it, blowing out a cold breath. “Come on, Caity Bug, open up.”

  His pal Caitlin Reynolds—now Stevens—was always good for a fake lip-lock. Although, that was before she had triplets with Josh and then married him, in that order. Slapping his lips on his best friend’s wife probably wasn’t going to happen.

  Glancing down the street, he could see a pack of women headed his way. Crap. They really were coming after him.

  He started to cross the street to the Buttermilk Tavern but did a quick one eighty. Since he was a frequent patron, that was probably the first place they’d check.

  He turned to the right and caught a glimpse of his neighbor Bethany Wilson locking up the Christmas Corner, her family’s holiday ornament and decorations shop.

  Bingo. He’d known Bethany for years. She would definitely take one for the team. He had moved into the one-story cottage next to hers over the summer. They’d been classmates in high school, and now that they were neighbors, they’d shared a few six-packs and lots of laughs on his porch. Sometimes that led to watching a movie at his house or hers.

  He jogged over. “Evening, Lady Beth.”

  “Hey, Adam.” Bethany wrapped her soft lavender scarf around her neck and buttoned her ivory-white coat. “What brings you in this direction this late at night?”

  “Just taking a stroll.” He brushed some snowflakes off his jacket and glanced behind his shoulder. Pauline and her crazy posse would be here any minute. “Closing shop?”

  “Yes, I am, and after the day I had, I’m ready to kick up my heels with a bottle of wine. Holiday shoppers can be so grumpy if they can’t find the perfect last-minute gift, like it’s my fault that they waited a week until Christmas.”

  Put him on the list of procrastinators. He hadn’t even started his Christmas shopping. “Don’t you have any help?”

  “Not this year. It’s just me while my parents continue to soak up the sun,” Bethany said, and tugged on the store door, checking to make sure it was locked.

  “I forgot they were in the Bahamas.”

  “Three full weeks. Hey, aren’t you supposed to be stirring your blue mixing spoon right about now?” she asked with a hint of amusement. Bethany had been at the Sugar Spoon when Mary had given her beyond-the-grave instructions to Josh to hand over the blue spoon to him.

  The two of them had rehashed it several times while watching the sun set over Buttermilk Lake. He could talk a good game around Josh, Emma, and Abby, insisting spells and ghosts didn’t spook him, but the fact was, they kind of did. Bethany was a neutral, non-magical person he could talk to. She was also good at steering the conversation away from magic when they’d exhausted it. Their porch talk always turned to his volunteer firefighting or her freelance photography before he invited her inside to watch TV with him—an invitation she always accepted.

  He reached for her gloved hands. “I don’t have a lot of time to explain. Quick. Wrap your arms around me.”

  “What?” She yanked free and played with her lavender gloves, adjusting one and then the other. Her eyelids lowered, full of suspicion. “Have you been drinking?”

  “No. It’s the Batter Up spell. I screwed it up majorly.”

  “You didn’t out another couple for having an affair, did you?”

  Of course, she knew about the Annie and Scott fiasco. The whole town had gotten ahold of that juicy news. “Worse.” He grimaced and looked again behind his shoulder. The women had made their way to the street corner and one of them pointed directly at him. He turned back. “Much worse. The batter spelled my name.”

  That got a laugh and then a longer, louder one. “You’re kidding, right? You and Pauline Maycock.”

  “What? She’s not unattractive.”

  “Yeah, but she handles dead bodies for a living, and you can’t even watch a zombie movie with me without covering your eyes with a blanket.”

  That much was true. Creepy post-apocalypse zombies, blood-drinking vampires, off-their-rocker serial killers—not his genre. He let out a sigh before admitting what had happened between him and the mortician. “Okay, she and I kind of hooked up last month.”

  Bethany raised a more than curious eyebrow at that big reveal. “Oh, really? What exactly do you mean by ‘hooked up’?”

  “It was only kissing, and it’s never going to happen again. We are not getting together.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She reached up and brushed some snow off his shoulder. “At least you know you’d look handsome before you go six feet under.”

  Just then, Pauline yelled from across the street, “Get him, ladies.”

  He reached for Bethany’s hand. “Please . . . I’ll buy you a BBB Burger if you do this for me.” Bethany had said the other day that she was craving one of the Star Lite diner’s infamous blueberry, bacon burgers smothered in blue cheese. “They won’t hurt me if they think we’re together. You’re like my mother.”

  “I’m like your mother.” Her face scrunched. “What does that mean?”

  “Everyone loves you like they loved her back in the day. You’re Buttermilk Falls’s residential sweetheart. Please do this.”

  Bethany smirked. “Throw in a vanilla malt with extra whipped cream?”

  “Done.”

  She flung her arms around him just in the nick of time. “Oh, my God, baby, I’ve missed you so much.” She snuggled into his jacket, squeezing his middle.


  Atta girl. Adam couldn’t help but inhale her delicious sugary scent as he looped a strand of her long brown hair with his finger. “Not as much as I missed you.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I owe you big time,” before turning to the side. “Oh, hi, ladies. I didn’t see you there. I’m sorry I had to rush out. It’s just Bethany and I have reservations for dinner this evening.” He paused, adding a feeble, “Merry Christmas.”

  Pauline cocked her head, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realize you two were dating.”

  “It happened so fast.” Bethany released her grip from Adam’s middle and slid her palm into his, threading their fingers. “Listen, gals. Adam told me about tonight’s spell. I’m so sorry that this keeps happening, and I know he is, too.” She looked up at him. “Aren’t you, honey?”

  Wasn’t that the truth. “Yes. Yes, I am.” He didn’t ask to be the Warlock of Buttermilk Falls and would be perfectly content handing that title over to Josh.

  Bethany pulled her hand out of his and tightened her scarf. “He and Emma are going to practice before he attempts another one.” She squeezed his hand tight and he got the silent message she was sending that he needed to stop doing the spell on these women until he knew he was doing it right. “He’s committed to providing all of you with the correct names of your soul mates. Just give him some time.”

  Man, she was good at thinking on her feet. “I promise I’ll practice every day. For hours if I have to. No more Batter Up nights for you ladies until I get it right. You all have my word.”

  Bethany turned to Pauline. “In the meantime, you should attend tomorrow night’s Holiday Hook Up at the Lakeside Inn. All of you should. Now, that’s where you’ll find a room full of eligible bachelors ripe for the picking, and it’s for a good cause.”

  Adam nodded his head in absolute agreement. Bethany, you’re a freakin’ genius! The annual winter event was taking place at the inn owned by their friend, Brandon Swift. Held a few days before Christmas, singles from Buttermilk Falls and surrounding towns came together for a fun evening helping a local charity by signing up for a Holiday Hook Up.