His Mistletoe Miracle

by Jenny B. Jones

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this? My whole family’s there. If you think I’m intrusive, they’re professional stream rollers. They’re loud and obnoxious and like to play stupid games and eat lots of junk and they’ll ask you a million questions. This time I probably won’t be able to deflect.”

  The dimmed lights and the warm fire were doing things to Cordelia’s head, wrapping the two of them in a cozy pod that blocked out reality and the rest of the world. She could stay here forever with Will and just exist on ambiance and fantasy. She wondered what he’d do if she took one more step toward him and kissed that faint scar next to his cheek. “I think I can handle your family. I’ve been rehearsing.”

  Will traced the ribbon in her hair. “With whom?”

  “Isaiah.” Cordelia wanted to lean into Will’s touch and see where it led. “He’s even worse at this conversation stuff than I am.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “I saw Mr. Mason at the grocery store. It reminded me why I’d committed to this insanity in the first place, and I’m going to see it through.” The wood settled in the fireplace with a clatter, and Cordelia stepped back. Away from the flames and from Will. “I haven’t gotten much rest lately and that was just kindling to my temper. When we add you, my mom, and no sleepy time, it pretty much makes me combustible.”

  “I’m sorry I upset you. I know what it’s like to have well-meaning people press in, and I should’ve backed off.”

  “Throw in a double scoop from Dixie Dairy later, and I accept. Now let’s get back to the business at hand.”

  “You said you’d been rehearsing.”

  “I’m Broadway ready. We’re talking one show a day plus a matinee on Sunday.”

  “I like this new confidence, Daring. Let’s do a quick speed round. What’s my favorite color?”

  “Blue.” Like those eyes hot on hers.

  “What are my feelings on fish?”

  “They belong in the water and not on your plate.”

  “Favorite band?”

  “Spice Girls.” His grin sent a zing straight to her toes. “Fine. The Rolling Stones and occasionally U2.”

  “And why am I crazy about Cordelia Daring?”

  Did he mean the good kind of crazy or more of a brain delirium that led to straightjackets and heavy sedation? “Because you suffered head trauma in the explosion?” Her heart seized in her chest as Will moved toward her.

  “Because she has the purest heart of any person I know.” One of Will’s fingers linked with hers. “She gives to people with no expectation of anything in return and bestows mercy when someone don’t even deserve it.”

  “Everyone deserves—”

  “Thank you for changing your mind.” Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss to her palm. “Are you ready to be a couple?”

  Cordelia was.

  And that was becoming her biggest dilemma of all.

  Chapter 16

  “Maybe we could go in now, Cordelia?” Will squeezed her hand for the third time.

  Cordelia stood next to Will at the end of the driveway, studying the wrap-around porch that seemed to stretch out into the woods. The Sinclair’s holiday rental was a rustic, two-story cabin that sat confidently on an expansive acreage, smoke piping from its three chimneys. Surrounded by rolling hills, pine trees, and no visible neighbors, it was perfect for a winter getaway. An image of her and Will snowed-in flashed before Cordelia, and she blinked the hallucination away. She had to quit entertaining these fanciful notions.

  “I’m having second and third thoughts,” she said. Sure, she’d already met his parents, but there’d been little time for questions and the interview she knew was coming. “Maybe we could tell them I’m sick.” It wasn’t far from the truth.

  “You’re gonna do great. I won’t leave your side.” Will slinked an arm around her waist.

  “What if they ask me something I don’t know?”

  He kissed her cheek, and she could hear the grin. “We’ll make out and distract them.”

  Cordelia turned and regarded him, her stomach stickier than a popcorn ball. “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  She could hardly function when he looked at her like that. Somewhere along the way, the line between pretend relationship and something had blurred. She didn’t know where the line was, and she certainly didn’t know what all their something entailed. She faced the house again, and yep, these people were still ridiculously rich. “This is so not a little vacation house.”

  “Will!” A willowy, twenty-something ran out the front door with a squeal, then leaped off the porch and propelled herself into Will’s arms. “My favorite brother!” She placed smacking kisses on both his cheeks. “I’ve missed you!”

  Will laughed and swung her in a blur of a circle. “Fin.”

  “Did I hear her call you the favorite?” bellowed another voice from the doorway.

  She’d watched enough TV to know the handsome man now exiting the house and entering the front yard fray was Will’s brother, Alex.

  Will released his sister, letting her feet rest on the ground. “Everyone, meet Cordelia.” With a smile that was a brilliant facsimile of adoration, Will returned his hand to her hip and gathered her close. “Cordelia, this is my brother Alex and my sweet sister, Finley.”

  “It’s nice to meet you both,” Cordelia said. “I’ve heard so much about you.” But not nearly enough. Alex still lived in Charleston, but Finley had just graduated from college. Her major was acting? No, music. Her boyfriend was the actor. The facts scrambled in her head.

  “Come on inside, Cordelia,” Alex said. “We can’t wait to tell you about the real Will.”

  With tears in her eyes, Finley hugged her brother one more time. “We’re finally all together again.”

  “Hey, hey.” He ruffled her hair like she was five, looking over the top of her head to Alex, who only shrugged. “None of that. Let’s go in before you turn into a popsicle.”

  Inside, Cordelia was instantly squished into hugs from Will’s parents before being introduced to Alex’s wife, Lucy, who was clearly celebrating the season for two. Will’s three-year old nephew and namesake gave Cordelia a fist bump then ran back into the kitchen for more cookies.

  “Don’t let all this intimidate you,” Lucy said, pulling Cordelia to the side as the group had a loud, rambunctious mini-reunion. “The Sinclairs are a wonderful family. They’re really close. Well, they were until the bombing. Life fell apart for everyone after that.” She sipped from her steaming mug and watched them. “When they found Will, it was a miracle. Like the sun had returned to our lives.”

  “I can’t imagine the shock and relief,” Cordelia said.

  “I think we all thought things would fall back into place and return to normal.”

  “But Will isn’t letting that happen.”

  Lucy smiled and tucked a coil of blonde hair behind her ear. “They’re a family who’s used to being all in each other’s business and wound up tightly in each other’s lives. But Will still needs time to heal and grieve, you know? I think the Sinclairs struggle with the distance. They’ve barely seen him since his rescue.”

  Cordelia watched him across the room as he listened to his sister’s animated story. His focus drifted and settled on Cordelia, their eyes locking. She felt like she was in a snow globe, shaken and swirled until she dizzily fell like paper snow. Will gave her a slow wink before returning his attention to Finley at her loud prompt.

  “He seems quite smitten with you.”

  Cordelia found Lucy watching her with a satisfied smile. “Oh, um, we’re just dating, and it’s still new, and we probably—”

  “Is he truly doing okay?” Lucy asked, her brows now knit in concern. “We can’t help but be worried.”

  Cordelia was still mentally churning out definitions of her relationship with Will when she realized the topic had shifted back to Will. “I think Sugar Creek has been good for him.”

  “So the book’s com
ing along?”

  “There’s definitely been progress,” Cordelia hedged. “It has to be hard to relive the last few years.” She couldn’t fathom the pain.

  “He won’t talk about it with us,” Lucy said. “Does he mention the bombing to you?”

  “A little.”

  Lucy held her mug close to her chest and watched her family. “I’m glad to know he trusts you with that. He’s refused to discuss it with us. Just locked it all inside and withdrew. For months he wouldn’t take our calls, wouldn’t allow us to visit. He feels incredible guilt over the bombing, but there’s no way he could’ve known they’d be targeted.”

  “He was a hero,” Cordelia said. “He pulled three kids to safety before he was captured. But to Will, it wasn’t enough. He feels his celebrity status made the school a target.”

  Lucy had gone wide eyed and still. “He pulled children to safety?”

  Was she not supposed to have mentioned that? “Yes. He saved their lives, not that he finds any redemption in that.”

  “Will’s never said a word, and that wasn’t in any of the press. It’s like we got the Cliffs Notes version. Cordelia, do you know what I think?”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this. “What?”

  “I think you have Will’s heart.”

  “No, I—”

  “You and your little boy have bewitched him and reached him in a way his family couldn’t.” Lucy set down her coffee and clasped both Cordelia’s shoulders. “Don’t give up on him. These Sinclair men are hard to love, but I promise you, it’s worth it.”

  Cordelia watched her walk away, leaving her alone with Lucy’s words.

  And wishing they were true.

  Chapter 17

  Cordelia needed a break.

  The Sinclairs were like the mighty sun. She was drawn to their radiance and light, but she feared if she stared at them for too long, she could suffer permanent injury. And, in this case, it was the thorn of envy wedging into Cordelia’s heart. This family loved big and loved loud.

  From Alex Sinclair’s smile-inducing trash talk with Will, to the way Mrs. Sinclair’s eyes frequently sought out her Lazarus of a son, lingering as she studied him, a cautious smile on her lips. Cordelia instantly clicked with Lucy, who stood her ground when everyone threw out baby names for a half hour. The woman, who Cordelia learned ran homes for girls who’d aged out of foster care, wanted no part in naming her baby after the Sinclair ancestor Brutus Wilberfink. And then there was Finley and her boyfriend, a dynamic duo if there ever was one. Finley had already composed two songs for blockbuster movies, while her handsome Irishman Beckett Rush had once been a leading actor in successful vampire flicks and now worked behind the camera.

  That left Cordelia.

  Small-town girl, daughter of the local grouch, and someone who would be voted Gal With Most Mundane Life if they’d polled the room.

  In three more days Cordelia would deliver her last performance as Will’s girlfriend, sticking by his side at his family Christmas Eve dinner. As she had no plans for the night, it was just as well to be with people she genuinely liked, but it would also be bittersweet. But when it was done, she’d give her final bow, allow Will to take her and Isaiah home, then wake up the next morning as Cordelia, the woman not dating Will Sinclair.

  Slipping out the dining room and onto the back deck, Cordelia clutched her water bottle as if it was something stronger. She poked her hand into the pocket of her sweater where she’d stashed two cookies in case her anxiety prompted a Code Carb.

  Above her, the stars twinkled and shimmered, as if unaware of any drama below. Cordelia found the North Star and thought about the very first Christmas, always in awe that she could look on the same guiding light as those seeking the baby Jesus. A little direction would be nice about now. What had started out as a lark, a quick way to earn some Christmas money, had turned into a living thing she couldn’t control. From the beginning, Cordelia had assumed she and Will would see very little of one another, but instead they’d been together nearly every day since the agreement. The Will Sinclair she’d watched on TV had been charismatic, articulate, and intelligent, but Cordelia hadn’t anticipated the way his smile nearly flat-lined her pulse. Or how he made her laugh just when she needed it most. And good heavens, the sight of that man holding her foster baby in his arms would make the hardest of hearts crumble into tacky, blabbering, tattoo-his-name-on-questionable-body-parts love.

  And hers was far from the hardest heart.

  Cordelia was in big trouble.

  The only solution was to guard her feelings and keep her eye on the end date, when she and Will both walked away from the agreement, and life carried on as before.

  Yet she knew she’d never be the same.

  She had Will Sinclair to blame for that.

  No, Cordelia corrected, it was her own stupid fault. Falling for him was completely her doing.

  “Hey.”

  As if manifested by her neurotic meanderings, Will appeared behind her, closing the door with a click to join her on the deck.

  “You looked cold.” He placed a mug of cocoa on the wooden railing, then draped her forgotten coat around her, his hands lingering on her shoulders. “Are we boring you in there? I promise my dad can talk about more than his new Golden Retriever and how to smoke pork butts.”

  “Your family is lovely, and you know it.” Cordelia leaned against him for only a moment. “And I think you’ve missed them.”

  Will propped his elbows on the rail as Finley’s boyfriend, Beckett, added more logs to the bonfire below. “I’ve missed the moments like tonight, when things feel like they used to. But mostly what I get from them outside of the bubble of the holidays is incessant phone calls, smothering texts, and this relentless push for me to be who I was. Tonight nobody’s looking at me like I’m fragile or seconds away from disappearing again.”

  “They love you, Will.”

  “I know that. I just don’t know what to do with this new version of it.”

  “Maybe if they saw you more it wouldn’t be weird. And they’d be assured you really are okay.” She leaned into his side. “Not that you have to be okay. You’ve been through a horrendous tragedy and—”

  “Don’t.” He turned to face her, his hair blowing in the breeze. “I don’t need all that from you too.”

  Will was right. It wasn’t like they were a real couple and Cordelia had to be invested in his well-being. But hadn’t they become friends?

  Below them Finley walked down the small incline leading to the growing bonfire and hugged her boyfriend. He kissed her soundly, and Cordelia couldn’t believe she was less than a hundred feet away from one of Hollywood’s favorites.

  She whispered her wonder to Will. “Do you know who that is?”

  “A guy who can’t stop making cow eyes at my sister?”

  “Beckett Rush.” Would it be rude to take a photo? “That is Beckett Rush.”

  “Yeah, some former child actor, I guess. They’ve been together since my sister was a senior in high school. My mom said he’s now the youngest Oscar-nominated director in movie history.”

  She watched as the rest of the family trickled out to the Adirondack chairs circling the fire. “Your family’s basically the Kennedys of the South. Does every member have a Golden Globe, Super Bowl ring, or Nobel Peace Prize?”

  “Don’t forget the break-dance trophy I won in second grade.” Will frowned when he caught her worrying her bottom lip. “Cordelia, my family’s as low-key as it gets. There’s absolutely nothing intimidating about those people down there.”

  “Because you know them.”

  “And I think I know you.” He readjusted the coat sliding from her shoulders, and she tried not to lean in, but the magnet pull was strong. “And you’re more of a complement to this family than I am. Big heart, always doing for others, a ridiculous amount of selfless deeds.”

  “I’m an accountant in small-town Arkansas.”

  “And a darn good one from w
hat people say. But what you’re really good at is bringing people joy with your displays and designs. That Beckett guy’s last movie involved a death row inmate, a nuclear winter, and a poetry-writing priest. Not one laser light show.” Will anchored his hands on her hips and pressed his forehead to hers. “Now let’s go mingle one last time before we go. You do like S’mores, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I’m not quite through with my neurotic meltdown.” These things couldn’t be rushed. “What am I supposed to talk about, Will?”

  “How incredible I am.” His hold tightened as the laughter from below echoed around them. “Don’t forget to use the words gallant, charismatic, and sexiest thing you’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  His mother would so appreciate that. “I know nothing about football.” She set her mug back on the rail. “Or foreign policy or classical music. Or— ”

  “Cordelia, relax.”

  She stared into his mercurial eyes, the gray flecks like her kryptonite. “I’m sorry. I’m sleep-deprived, I think I still have spit-up on my shoulder, Isaiah woke up a million times last night, I’m a fish out of water here, and—”

  Will’s lips on hers ceased all talking.

  He stepped closer till even the rising smoke couldn’t pass through them, his hands easing up her neck to cup Cordelia’s face as if she were an heirloom ornament, breakable and rare. Cordelia sighed as his bottom lip tugged hers, and heat bloomed that had nothing to do with the fire. Her hands made a slow walk up his chest, and her fingers rested on his heart, feeling the steady cadence beneath her palm. Eyes closed, Cordelia reveled in the sensation of being in Will’s embrace, his kiss a slow exploration, as if he had all the time in the world. She felt safe, cherished.

  But it was a mirage.

  Cordelia stepped back, her pulse beating loud, erratic warnings.

  “Feeling calmer?” Will asked.

  “No.”

  He swept his lips over hers again. “Now?”

  “No.”

  “Hm.” Will shrugged an arrogant shoulder. “Worked for me.”