“Kiss of mistletoe,” he said. He pointed up and both Savy and Maisy glanced at the bough of mistletoe hanging overhead. “You know. You’re supposed to kiss if you get caught under it.”
Savannah glared at him and he shrugged. She looked resigned, which was not exactly how he’d pictured their second kiss, but given that they had an audience he figured this one would be much more innocent anyway.
“May I, Ms. Holly Brightbuttons?”
If anything, Savy’s glare got even more severe. With a put-upon sigh that he had a feeling was more for show, she said, “Fine.”
Quino was certain that today was going to go down as one of his most favorite days ever. Not only had he gotten to kiss Savy once, and it had been even more amazing than he’d imagined, they had discovered a common purpose together, which he hoped would get her to see him in a new light. Preferably, the knight-in-shining-armor light as the man who helped her save her best friend’s bookstore. And now he was going to kiss her again. Yes, this was definitely the best day ever.
Unlike last time, he took the initiative. He bent down and pressed his mouth against hers. He didn’t touch her in any other way. He didn’t have to. The magic that had been between them before flared up again and she kissed him back with just enough heat to make him more certain than ever that it would take him a lifetime to get his fill of this woman.
When he pulled back, he could see Maisy bouncing up and down on her toes as if she was giddy that she was witnessing what she thought was a first kiss. He grinned, especially when Savy had that dreamy glazed look in her eyes. He had done that. He had made her lose herself in their kiss even if it was just for a moment.
He leaned close and said, “Crazy hot, Red, admit this thing between us is crazy hot.”
She lifted one eyebrow higher than the other and shrugged. Again, she said, “Meh.”
Quino grinned. He leaned back. “Really?”
“I could kiss anyone under the mistletoe and it would be the same,” she said.
“Is that so?” he asked. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Now, you two, this is all in fun,” Maisy said. Her expression was alarmed as if she thought they might square off in a full-on argument. Customers were beginning to stare. Quino didn’t care.
“Yes, that’s so,” Savy said.
She looked away from him and scanned the room. It was bustling, thick with customers taking advantage of the buy-one, get-one sale. Quino didn’t know what she was looking for until her gaze landed on John Michael, Hannah’s brother, who owned and operated a local dairy farm. Savy snatched the pointy elf hat off her head and tossed it at Quino, pelting him in the face. Then she strode toward John Michael, who was holding a stack of books for his sister with the beleaguered look of a man waiting on a woman while she shopped.
Quino would have felt bad for the guy, but when he glanced up he noted that John Michael was standing under some mistletoe. Uh-oh. He had a feeling he didn’t like where this was going. Savannah stalked the poor guy like she was King George and he was a light beam on the floor. When she stood right in front of him, she pointed up and then gave him a come-hither smile that made Quino’s mouth go dry.
She’d never looked at him like that. He was torn between wanting to punch John Michael in the throat really hard, which made him feel awful because he’d always liked John Michael, or snatch Red up and toss her over his shoulder while he stormed out of the shop. Of course, he would never do either of those things because the alpha male thing was so not his jam, but the thoughts remained.
“It’s okay,” Maisy said. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
“Really?” Quino cut his glance to Maisy. “Because it sure looks like she knows what she’s doing to me.”
Maisy wrung her hands in front of her and stared at Quino through her rectangular-framed glasses. She looked stressed. She waved him down to her level, which was a considerable drop. He kept one eye on Savannah while lowering himself down to Maisy’s height. Savy had just put her arms around John Michael’s neck, and Quino felt a surge of dark emotion roil through him. It was an ugly feeling he couldn’t identify. He’d never felt anything like it before. It took him a moment to name it. Jealousy. Oh, ick, he did not like this.
“The thing is”—Maisy cupped her mouth and whispered in his ear—“John Michael is gay.”
“What?” Quino snapped his head in her direction. They were nose to nose. “What did you say?”
She looked at him and then glanced at Savy. Quino followed her gaze and watched as Savy rose up on her toes and pressed her mouth on John Michael’s. It was clear to see from their posture that there was nothing crazy hot happening there. In fact, John Michael looked like a mannequin that Savy was practicing giving mouth-to-mouth to while his sister watched the goings-on, looking like she was trying not to laugh. She failed.
When Savy finally gave up kissing John Michael, he gave her a weak smile and then grabbed his sister by the hand and dragged her out the door. Hannah was full-on laughing now, waving at Savannah as she went.
“Savannah doesn’t know?” Quino asked.
Maisy bit her lip and shook her head. “John Michael only came out a few years ago before Savannah moved back to town and we really haven’t seen much of him.”
Quino straightened up. The relief he felt was incredible. It made him laugh, a big deep belly laugh, because he no longer felt that unpleasant coiling feeling in his gut. Savannah looked at him and scowled. As she approached, her chin tipped up and a fire flared in her green gaze.
“Break it to her gently,” Maisy said. Then she ran. Quino didn’t blame her one bit.
He wasn’t going to do it here in a roomful of people, however. Instead, he grabbed her hand and led her back to the office, where they could talk in peace. When they arrived Maisy and Ryder were draped around each other and Quino tipped his head toward the door.
“Isn’t it time for lunch?” he asked.
“No—” Ryder began, but Maisy elbowed him hard and said, “Yes, in fact, we’ll just be in the kitchen.”
She took Ryder’s hand in hers and led him out of the room. Quino shut the door behind them and turned to face Savannah. She was standing with her arms crossed, looking bored.
“So, Gingerbread Twinkle-Toes,” he said.
“Stop. They’re just getting worse and worse,” she said. She narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?”
“How was that kiss with John Michael?” he asked. “Meh? Or crazy hot?”
Savannah glared at him. “I can’t talk to you when I’m dressed like this.”
She turned on her heel and walked to the staff bathroom. Much to Quino’s shock and delight, she didn’t close the door, opting to leave it open enough so that she could still talk to him while she changed out of the elf suit. He was kind of bummed about that. He dug those stripy tights, plus the nicknames.
“Well, what’s your verdict?” he asked. “A mistletoe kiss is a mistletoe kiss? No big deal.”
“I know what you’re trying to get me to do,” she said. He could hear the sound of clothes being removed and replaced. He tried to stop picturing the swish of fabric against her skin. He failed. “You want me to admit that our kiss was amazing and the one with John Michael wasn’t. Well, I’m not going to.”
“No?” he asked. He could hear her pant a bit as she struggled back into her clothes. The offer to help was right on the tip of his tongue but he wisely choked it down.
She stepped back into the office, back in her regular clothes. He acutely missed his elf.
“No,” she said. “The kisses were exactly the same. If I was blindfolded, I wouldn’t even be able to tell them apart.”
Quino grinned. She was so full of it. “That’s interesting.”
She looked surprised. “Really?”
“Yes, especially since John Michael is gay and watch
ing you kiss him was like watching a person in CPR class try to give mouth-to-mouth to a dummy.”
“John Michael’s gay?” she asked. Her eyes went wide. “Oh, thank God. I thought I was losing my skill set. I mean, I get that he might not want to have been kissed by his sister’s friend but, jeez, he was so unresponsive I thought you had ruined me for . . .”
Chapter Seven
RED stopped talking. Quino rested his elbow on a bookcase and planted his chin in his hand. He stared at her and said, “Oh, don’t stop now. Go on. You’re just getting to the good part.”
Savannah’s eyes narrowed into slits. “There are no good parts.”
“Oh, sure there are, just back it up a little and tell me again how you thought I ruined you,” he said.
“You’re impossible.”
“It’s part of my charm.”
“I’m not talking about this with you.”
“Aw, come on,” he said.
“No,” she said. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sure you think it’s just hilarious that I made such an idiot of myself and poor John Michael. No wonder he looked like he’d turned to stone when I cornered him. I am completely not his type.”
She put a hand over her face and Quino felt his amusement vanish. Poor Red. He took his arm off the bookshelf and approached her cautiously, not sure if she was going to take a swing at him or not.
“Hey, it wasn’t that bad,” he said.
“You forget,” she said. “I was on one end of it. It was that bad, and I owe him an apology.”
“And now you’re finally going to admit that our kiss was off the charts, yes?” he asked.
“Your ego is insufferable,” she said. She glowered. He didn’t care. He needed to get her to admit that what crackled between them was something special even if he had to drag every syllable out of her. “Okay, fine. Yes, our kiss was spectacular. There, I admit it. Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” he said. “So much so that I may have to kiss you again just to prove to myself and you that it wasn’t a fluke.”
“No, no more kissing,” she said. She glanced up and checked the ceiling for mistletoe. Quino made a mental note to hang some in the office at his first opportunity. “We have a situation and we need to make a plan.”
“Situation?” he asked. Now that he was thinking about kissing her, he really couldn’t think of anything else.
“Yes, remember, before Maisy appeared and we got sidetracked with the kissing talk, we were discussing what to do about the bookstore,” she said.
“Oh, yeah,” he agreed.
“So, we need a plan, a big one,” she said. “I’ve been working on some angles but I’m not making any headway. We need to come up with more stuff. You’re the lover of all things Christmas, and I’m not, so I think we should have a brainstorming sesh.”
“Like a date?” he asked.
“No!” she scoffed. “Not like a date, like a meeting, a business meeting.”
“Oh, well, that disappoints,” he said.
She rolled her eyes, and he knew she was trying not to be charmed. At least, he thought she was trying not to be charmed. Red was tricky to read. Also, he’d never met a woman who was so resistant to dating him. If she hadn’t responded to his kiss, he would have crawled off into some deep dark hole and licked his wounds, but Red was a mystery because she did respond more enthusiastically than any woman he’d ever known, which made this whole thing even more confusing for him.
He knew the only way he was going to figure out what was going on in that pretty head of hers was to spend more time with her. Until he figured out what exactly was between them, he was going all in.
“All right, what’s your weekend look like?” he asked.
“I’m working in the shop today and tomorrow and then I have a thing on Sunday evening,” she said.
She picked up a wooden box, about the size of a shoebox, painted gold with the word Wishes in black lettering. Quino could think of about a hundred wishes he could stuff into that box but they all involved Savy and were most definitely not PG-13.
“A thing?” he asked. He felt that weird roiling feeling in his chest again. He didn’t like it. He forced his face to remain blank.
“A club meeting,” she said.
Quino felt the jealousy inside stand down. He shook his head. He really needed to get a handle on this. “All right, I have a private riding lesson out of town tomorrow so I’m gone most of the day. That leaves tomorrow night, Saturday night—are you available then?”
Savy studied his face. “Do not get any funny ideas. Just because it’s date night does not mean we’re having a date. In fact, let’s keep it on neutral territory. I’ll meet you at Perk Up, the coffee shop in town.”
“How romantic,” he said. She ignored him.
“Seven o’clock work for you?”
Quino thought about the schedule at the stable. He should be done for the day by then. “Yeah, that works.”
“Good. In the meantime, see if you can get anything out of Ryder,” she said. “And I’ll do the same with Maisy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He curbed the urge to salute, figuring it wouldn’t be well received.
She sat down at her desk and Quino knew he was dismissed.
“So, tomorrow,” he said. She nodded without looking at him. She had fired up her laptop and was already diving into her work. He couldn’t resist adding, “I’ll wear something pretty for you.”
She didn’t look up. He waited a moment for his words to sink in, in five, four, three . . .
She glanced up with a scowl and said, “Go.”
He went.
With a hug for Maisy and knuckle bump for Ryder, Quino left the Happily Ever After Bookstore and headed for his pickup truck, which was parked on the street. He pulled out his cell phone and checked the app he had installed years ago that told him where his sister, Desi, was at all times and vice versa. It was getting late and she should be almost done with her shopping and about to head back home or already en route.
She didn’t show up on the app. While he didn’t like it, he knew that there were some dead spots on the route between Fairdale and Asheville, so he’d just head home and check again there. He drove through town, noting the decorations and the crowds of people shopping. He felt the crisp nip of late autumn in the air and felt renewed as if everything in life was suddenly possible.
Quino knew it was because after months of waiting, he had finally managed to slip beneath the polite facade with which Red had kept him at arm’s length. Yes, it was mostly because Maisy’s shop was in trouble and Savy would do anything to help her friend, but he also believed that their kiss had changed everything. She could deny it all she wanted but he had felt everything shift between them after that clinch under the mistletoe.
He turned onto the winding road that led to his stables. He hadn’t planned to be away as long as he’d been. Lanie O’Brien was his right-hand woman and he knew if she’d needed him she would have sent word. She’d been with him ever since she’d arrived in Fairdale nine years ago. She was a specialist in equine therapy and had convinced him that the Shadow Pine Stables could be so much more than they were.
During his parents’ time owning the stables, it had been a place for riding. Lessons in dressage, his mother’s specialty, and trail rides, his father’s portion of the business, were all the stable offered. When Lanie arrived, Quino had used her expertise to expand upon their standard offerings and now they were one of the premier places for equine therapy in the state. Luke Masters, his other key employee, had arrived about four years ago and had taken over the management of the stables. Luke now had a crew of stable hands that he employed year-round, leaving Quino to focus on the bigger picture of running a prosperous stable, and it gave him more time with Desi.
Upon her twentieth birthday, Quino had realized he neede
d to make sure that if anything happened to him, Desi would be able to take care of herself. He’d found her an occupational therapist and together they’d been working on her ability to navigate her social-emotional agnosia. Since her accident, Desi struggled with reading the expressions of others, which impaired her own ability to communicate effectively. She’d made tremendous progress, and she was good with people she was close to, otherwise he never would have let her go to Asheville by herself, but still he worried.
Quino parked his truck by the main house and strode over to the corral, seeing one of his favorite horses, an old nag named Esther, standing by the rail. At twenty-nine years old, Esther was too old to do anything at the stables, but she had been his mother’s favorite horse and was a living connection to her that Quino cherished.
Esther recognized him and tossed her long gray mane. She bobbed her head and showed what remained of her big square teeth in what Quino supposed was a scowl. Esther was a notorious cranky pants, and the only person she had ever loved was his mom, Beatriz.
“Hey, Esther,” he said. “Who’s my pretty girl?” He patted her neck and she snuffled and lowered her head, nuzzling the front of his sweater, clearly looking for treats. “Sorry, love, I don’t have anything on me right now.”
Esther shook her head in disapproval and gave him the side-eye in a look he and Desi called a blast of stink eye. Esther knew how to get her point across with that look. She backed away from him, pawed the ground, and then trotted off with her tail kinked up high. Quino grinned. She reminded him of Savannah in her own sassy way.
“You’re being a bit of a diva, Esther,” he cried after her.
She snorted and trotted to the other side of the corral where Lanie was standing with Luke. Quino walked around the fence to talk to his staff. He was also hoping one of them had a carrot or a slice of apple he could give to Esther. He shook his head. Man, he was whipped, horsewhipped. The play on words made him smile and he approached his crew with a grin.
The Christmas Keeper Page 8
