Her Mistletoe Bachelor

by Carolyn Hector

  British reached for Zoe’s hand, stopping to flutter her lashes at Donovan. His heart swelled and slammed against his chest at the thought of him having to leave eventually; the last thing he wanted was to be separated from her.

  “So they’re just going to walk off with someone’s kid?” Will asked and shook his head. “We should call the police and let them handle it.”

  “British is a well-known teacher here in Southwood,” Donovan explained. “She grew up here and I am willing to bet anything she knows the kid’s parents.” Just then, Mrs. Fitzhugh walked by and waved, calling Donovan out by name. “Everyone knows everyone around here.”

  With a side eye glance, Will hummed. “Mmm-hmm. Well, I’ll never get used to that in Miami. Maybe in our grandparents’ neighborhood.”

  “Speaking of,” Donovan said. “How was Thursday with Grandma Naomi?”

  “Traditional as usual,” Will replied. “Catered dinner served at exactly one and a football game between us and the anti-cousins.”

  The anti-cousins were the group of relatives who’d tried to break the company up and start their retirements forty years early. Donovan was pretty sure it must have been an awkward holiday meal.

  “We worked out our aggression during the game,” Will said with a gloating laugh.

  While the Woodburys played football, too, with just one casualty, Tom, Donovan could only imagine the carnage on the Ravens property. What he liked about the Woodburys was being able to play a good game and having fun.

  A cool breeze blew but the new fond memories of British and her family kept him warm.

  “Wow,” Will gasped, breaking Donovan out of his trance as he watched British walk away. “You got it bad.”

  Without turning his head, Donovan cut his eyes at his brother. He reached out and grabbed Will by the shoulder, squeezing his clavicle. “Yes.”

  Chapter 10

  The end of the Thanksgiving season kicked off the winter celebrations, as well as brought back Ramon and Kenzie Torres from their vacation at his family home. British thanked her friends for opening up Magnolia Palace to everyone with a basket of muffins and gossip. Kenzie was ecstatic to learn about a potential relationship between British and Donovan, knowing her matchmaking scheme had worked out for the better. The end of the fall season also brought British back to some rushed normalcy in her life. The GRITS girls were able to move back into their homes. The school doors opened up again and British went back to her life. The only difference this time was that Donovan still lingered...and she didn’t mind. Even though she felt empty without him around as much, she had to get back to her regularly scheduled life.

  Southwood also kicked off the start of the Christmas holiday by decorating the town tree. There were a few more weeks until school let out for the three-week winter break and a lot more lessons to get through in the classroom. To top it all off, tonight was the big STEM competition for the Christmas Advisory Council. All the girls’ hard work over the last two weeks was about to pay off.

  For Donovan, the last two days had been busy working with Will to find the next face for Ravens Cosmetics. British knew she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a twinge of jealousy at sending Donovan over to Grits and Glam Gowns.

  Lexi Pendergrass Reyes owned not just the premier dress boutique in town but also a talent studio around the corner. British found herself coming over to the shop during her lunch break for one excuse or another. It’s why she had the 3D Advent calendar on the corner of her desk now, plus a party dress for the school dance next week. Her pop-up visits hadn’t soothed her insecurities.

  Gorgeous women from every direction of Georgia came through the shop for advice and dresses. And she’d sent the perpetual bachelor into the lion’s den. While British molded the minds of tomorrow’s youth, Donovan held interviews that would change the life of one local lady. Somehow, British dreaded the day Donovan would come home and tell her he’d found the new face of RC. When he found the future face, there’d be nothing keeping Donovan in Southwood.

  Initially, British had wanted a temporary situation—a playboy like Donovan, with a healthy fear of commitment. Sure, he’d had a reputation of being a ladies’ man, but since they’d been together British had never seen that side of him. He was attentive, romantic and sweet. Her family adored him and Donovan seemed to enjoy spending time with them. All of this happiness was going to end eventually when he found his perfect girl.

  At the idea of being closer to Donovan, British actually considered taking him up on his daily offer to be the new face of Ravens Cosmetics. But her life was here in Southwood, at Southwood Middle School.

  Another thing British usually hated to hear was the cruel sound of the afternoon bell ringing. It signaled the end of the day and reminded her that she’d run out of time to go over her well-thought-out lesson plans with her students. British waited for her students to leave the classroom before she headed over to city hall. The STEM teams were excused for the day for the competition. British hoped the girls were off to a good start. She expected a win, which would then take up her afternoons for a while to prepare for the District STEM Competition. With the girls participating in the STEM-Off now, British’s afternoon was free. She planned to hang out at school until the final activity bell rang.

  “So I hear our middle school kids are dominating the competition.”

  British tried not to shudder at the sound of Cam’s voice. When she looked up from her attendance book, she found the director standing at the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. A long dreadlock fell over his shoulder. In another lifetime she guessed he could have been considered handsome, but his attitude was atrocious. British pushed away from her desk. She buttoned the middle of her white lab coat and squared her shoulders. “Are you here to try to psych me out?” British asked him, rolling her yellow pencil between her fingers.

  “I was actually coming to see if you wanted to up the ante.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I mean there’s not enough room for the both of us here, Home Ec.”

  A crack came from her hand where she’d snapped the pencil. “I’ve asked you before to stop calling me that.”

  “Why?” Cam placed his hands on his hips. The hem of the blue-plaid shirt he wore flopped over the waistband of his brown corduroy pants. “Let’s be honest here.”

  She widened her eyes. “You mean you’ve been holding back on me?” British feigned a gasp. “What do you want?”

  “I want the lab to myself from here on out.”

  “You’re the director of the science department, Cam, not the owner of it,” she clarified.

  “I’m talking about when my boys win. I want you to resign.”

  British laughed; she bent over and laughed so hard that tears formed in her eyes. “You can’t be serious,” she asked once she sobered and placed her hands on her hips in the same stance as the director. “I’m surprised you didn’t challenge me to a duel.”

  “Right about now, I’d take it,” said Cam. He advanced into the room and let the heavy black door slam behind him.

  For a moment British wasn’t sure if she needed to be afraid. Lucky for her she had two older brothers who’d taught her how to protect herself. British stepped back in her black heels, in preparation to do battle. She even put her hands up. “Back up, Cam.”

  “It is Dr. Beasley,” Cam said in a clipped tone. “And what is this? A little girl like yourself is going to try to beat me up?” He stepped closer.

  A moment ago British wasn’t sure of his intentions but now Cam made it perfectly clear. His fists were balled at his sides. “I am so tired of watching you tiptoe around these halls acting like you own the place.”

  “I don’t do that,” said British, “but I am warning you to back away from me, Cam.”

  “I’m the boss here. It’s best you remember—”

  Since he kept
advancing toward her, British extended her right fist and popped him in the nose. The punch didn’t do anything but anger him more.

  “Jesus, woman, you are reckless.”

  “And you’re still getting in my face.”

  Cam didn’t stop. He stepped even closer. The scent of the cafeteria lunch of chicken parm and garlic bread loitered on his breath. “I need you to leave the school, British.”

  “Cam.” British curled her fingers around his to break the grip he’d taken on the lapels of her coat. “I am warning you.”

  “Are you going to leave when you lose?”

  “Absolutely not,” she replied. Her heart slammed against her chest. The band practiced right outside her window; she wasn’t sure if the blaring trumpets would cover her screams. School was over and her girls were off getting ready for the STEM-Off this evening. “And when I win, I want you to stay here and watch my girls take over the lab four days out of the week. Now, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me go.”

  Cam sneered so hard she saw a piece of parsley wedged between his left bicuspid. “What are you going to do, hit me again?”

  “No,” boomed a deep voice. A beefy brown hand clamped down on Cam’s shirt collar and pulled him back from her. “I am.”

  British’s heart swelled at the sight of Donovan coming to the rescue.

  Donovan jerked Cam’s hands behind his back and slammed his head down on British’s desk.

  “Now, before you begin to cry out from the pain,” Donovan said, “you’re going to apologize for your behavior.”

  The way Donovan’s hand pressed against Cam’s cheek, there was no way for the man to speak. His dreads flopped in his face while a thousand veins popped in his forehead.

  British folded her arms across her chest, pissed off. This man, who’d attempted to threaten her, had the nerve to look so pitiful right now.

  “I can’t hear you,” Donovan growled. The silver cuff links on his suit jacket pressed into Cam’s face.

  “Don’t kill him,” British said.

  “Who is this guy?”

  “This is the director of the science department. The girls are going up against his boys in a couple of hours.”

  Donovan stepped back and let Cam up but not before spinning him around and grabbing him the same way Cam had grabbed British a few minutes ago. Donovan lifted Cam off his feet and brought his face near. “I’m only letting you live so you can see those girls beat your team. After that I never want to hear about you coming near my lady again. Do I make myself clear?”

  My lady?

  Had this been a cartoon scenario, the path Cam took to run out of the classroom would have been on fire right now. Donovan crossed his arms over his chest, looking satisfied with himself, and turned to face her. Then his eyes roamed hers. There wasn’t a lot of distance between them but Donovan closed it immediately. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, pushing his hands away as they roamed over her body.

  “He didn’t try to...”

  When she realized what he implied, British shook her head. She pulled a stray curl behind her ear. “Good God, no. He was just trying to scare me.” She left out the part that he’d done a good job.

  “I don’t think he’s going to try anything like that again.”

  “Well I should say not,” British scoffed. “Thanks to man-save-woman.” To reiterate she grunted like a caveman.

  Still dressed in the dark suit he wore to interview hot girls today, Donovan loosened the red paisley tie around his neck. “Are you calling me a caveman?”

  “Neanderthal is the more correct term.” She practically spouted the fact.

  “Are you seriously going to be politically correct with me about what to call a caveman?” Donovan pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “Come here, woman.”

  Though Donovan tugged at the middle button of her lab coat, British gave a little bit of resistance. “I can’t believe you barged in here like that.”

  “What do you mean?” Donovan paid her pout no mind and nuzzled his chin against the crook of her neck. “You mean when I walked in here as you were getting mauled by some jerk?” He nibbled her jugular and her eyes fluttered. “I apologize if I got a little crazy. But I didn’t appreciate the woman I love being assaulted.”

  Knees weak, British pushed against Donovan’s chest. “Wait. What?”

  “Love, British.” Donovan tipped British by the chin with his thumb, getting her to see the seriousness in his eyes. Her breath fluttered. “I’ve never said it and meant it, British. I love you.”

  Love. The word seemed so simple. Is that what she had been feeling? “Donovan.”

  The final afternoon bell rang. Donovan dipped his head and kissed her lips, wiping any frayed nerves left over from her altercation with Cam. He pulled his mouth away. Eyes lingered on hers. “I don’t need to hear you say it back. Not yet. Let’s go watch the girls win.”

  * * *

  “And why are we here?” Will leaned over and asked Donovan in the auditorium of city hall.

  “Shh,” Zoe whispered over her shoulder from where she sat in front of them to pay attention to the competition on the stage.

  Not everyone in town filled the seats as Donovan had expected. It shocked him to find the disappointment rising in him over the lack of support the science teams received. He guessed most of the cheering crowds were parents of the participants. In his seat in the risers, Donovan couldn’t have been prouder, not just for the girls but also for himself. He’d finally said the words he felt. He loved British. With Tracy, they’d dated six weeks and he still wasn’t sure. With British, Donovan just knew. Every feeling—happiness, joy—felt right.

  As of right now, the last two teams standing were the STEM for GRITS and the boys’ robotics team from Southwood. British sat in the row behind the judges. From Donovan’s understanding, when the girls advanced through each round, they were allowed to bring a member of their team, expanding from the original four: Stephanie, Lacey, Natasha and Kathleen. There were now two extra girls helping them.

  The girls had taken Donovan’s suggestion and come up with a few holiday-themed suggestions. His favorite had been the one from Stephanie. She’d created a mood necklace with quartz glass and thermotropic liquid crystals to demonstrate the various heat levels. In the beginning of the experiment, the girls passed out crystals to the mothers in the audience. They also selected few random boys in the audience on the robotics team—including the Quandriguez fellow Stephanie had a crush on. The goal at the end of the demonstration for each participant was to keep the mood rock at a teal color, which meant a calm state, and the orders were to make sure the mothers remained teal during the holidays.

  For a bonus round the GRITS team paraded in front of the boys’ team wearing various mood rocks. The girls brought the mothers of the committee onstage, handed them noise canceling earphones and then one by one listed off all the shopping, errands, decoration duties, holiday parties and everything needed for a smooth Christmas to each mother. To some, the girls said that everything was fine. The mood rocks for the mothers with less to do turned teal. The rings for the other mothers turned black, meaning they were stressed. The suggestion for the children of the mothers onstage was for them to know when to pitch in and help their moms or stay out of the way.

  As for the boys, the girls examined their rocks, all while still wearing their various forms of jeans, T-shirts and turtlenecks. By the end of the experiment all the boys’ mood rocks stayed in the red zone, which varied between excited and stimulated. For Cam’s sake, the girls changed their variable each time by changing outfits, and no matter what they wore, from a lab coat to a pair of shorts and T-shirt or even a turtleneck, the boys were still distracted. The demonstration received a standing ovation from the mothers, female teachers and Donovan, as well.

  Cam sneered a
nd sank lower in his seat. Donovan’s palms itched to be wrapped around his throat.

  “See that girl,” Donovan said, pointing at Stephanie, who was front and center wearing a pink-Bedazzlered lab coat. “She’s going to be a future Ravens Cosmetics employee.”

  “She’s a bit young to be the company’s face,” said Will. “I was looking for someone older. Speaking of which, can we end this search, get out of Southwood and just hire Tracy? She’s been all over social media, which works in our favor.”

  Zoe twisted in her seat. “Excuse me?”

  “I love Southwood, babe.” Will corrected himself and leaned over to kiss his wife on the cheek.

  “Don’t forget my dad wants to sell the house,” she said, “and we could easily move back here.”

  Donovan’s laugh froze and an idea popped into his head. The Mas house had once been used as a classroom and family home. Zoe’s great-grandmother had taught young ladies the chemistry behind makeup as well as how to sell beauty products and styling. Many of her students had worked with Donovan’s grandparents, who’d run the place in the early days of Ravens Cosmetics. Considering Miami was the home base for RC, having a satellite office might be ideal. He crunched the numbers in his head and in his heart.

  He’d meant it when he said he loved British. He would do anything to stay with her.

  “Look,” Will continued once his wife stopped giving him the evil eye. “Like the rest of us featured on Dana’s bright idea of a reality show, Tracy got hold of the prereleased episode airing tonight.”

  There’d been a large attachment from MET Studios in Donovan’s work email earlier this week. He’d ignored it and focused on the thousands of corporate emails delegated to his job. During what time he did have to spend with British, television was the last thing on his mind.

  “She wasn’t even in anything,” Donovan said bitterly. “When I left, I didn’t say a word to her. I didn’t wake her up or anything.”