A Little Country Christmas

by Carolyn Brown

  “I’m giving you five more seconds to follow that up with something spectacular, Mayor Grinch, or else I’m walking out that door.” She looked at him expectantly.

  He wrapped a hand around her wrist and tugged her gently, just enough to knock her off balance and send her falling forward and straight into his chest—exactly where Peyton wanted her to be.

  He caught her and wrapped her in his arms as she tried not to smile.

  “I don’t have a crush on you, Daniela Garcia, because I think after this week—well, fifteen years and this week—I might have already gone and fallen for you.”

  Her eyes widened, and she backhanded him on his upper arm.

  “Might have?” she said. “Might have? I pour my heart out to you, and you might have…? Wait…” Her brows furrowed, and he watched her mouthing words to herself like she was replaying the conversation until her whole expression lit up and her cheeks bloomed an unmistakable pink.

  “You already fell for me?” she asked, the mostly feigned indignation leaving her voice.

  He nodded.

  “So this is real,” she added, motioning between them.

  Another nod. “I’m afraid so.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand, but she couldn’t hide her beautiful, beaming grin.

  “What are you so happy about?” he asked, knowing that whatever the answer was, it would be what he wanted to hear. Because he’d all but said those three little words, which should have spooked her, but she hadn’t run out the door. Not this time.

  She pressed both palms to his chest, and electricity sparked from her skin straight through his shirt.

  “Because,” she said. “I’m about to see my teenage crush—naked.”

  He threw back his head and laughed.

  “Just to clarify,” he said, hooking a finger through the belt loop of her jeans, “you’ll be naked, too, when this viewing takes place?”

  She nodded, and he scooped her into his arms, both of them laughing and maybe a little nervous. But they were smiling. And she wanted him as much as he wanted her. The past and the pain stepped back, not threatening to invade the moment as she pulled his shirt over his head and peppered his chest with pulse-quickening kisses. He unbuttoned her shirt and brushed his lips over her breasts, her belly button, and across the line of each of her hips.

  “It’s a you thing, Dani Garcia,” he said, echoing his words from before. And then he kissed her, the fire’s glow softly illuminating bare skin.

  Later—two cold cups of tea forgotten on the kitchen island, their clothes forgotten on the living room rug—they made their way up the stairs and to his room. It wasn’t a question of whether or not she was staying. Dani Garcia would be in his bed, in his arms, in his life, turning everything upside down in the most right kind of way.

  He waited for her to nod off, to let the rhythm of her breathing lull him into the deepest, most restful sleep he’d had in months.

  When he woke, the morning sun shone through the slats of the wooden blinds scattering light across the sheets—and the empty space with the imprint left by Dani’s body confirmed that last night really did happen. But Dani was gone.

  * * *

  Breakfast, Dani thought upon first waking in Peyton’s arms. Okay, maybe breakfast wasn’t exactly her first thought. It was more like Ohmigod ohmigod. I slept with Peyton Cooper and I am a thirty-year-old giddy schoolgirl who can’t stop smiling.

  And this giddy schoolgirl was still naked.

  And hangry, because not only had they forgone tea for other activities to while away the evening hours, but they’d also forgone a meal or maybe two. Dani couldn’t remember. Because of the giddiness. And the lack of caloric intake to balance caloric output and Ohmigod I slept with Peyton Cooper.

  Who was falling for her. Who thought he already had.

  She could finally let go of what he didn’t even know had happened in high school—her silly invitation to the winter formal. It wasn’t his fault. She’d always known that. But the timing of it all with her dad leaving…She shook her head, laughing softly to herself.

  He wasn’t her dad, and it was time she stopped waiting for him to prove her wrong, for the other shoe to drop.

  She stared at his sleeping form, his breathing slow and heavy, the big, bad, beautiful Grinch still deep in sleep.

  Okay, back to thinking of breakfast. She would make them breakfast. Hell, she’d even make them the English breakfast tea with milk and sugar.

  Her stomach growled, and she covered it with her hands, like she could shush it and keep it from waking the man still wrapped around her.

  Dani slid out from under his arm and tiptoed out the door. Every step on the wooden staircase squeaked and creaked as she made her way down. She paused at the bottom and waited, sure she’d woken not only Peyton but everyone in a five-mile radius, but no sound came from the bedroom.

  Wow. That man could sleep.

  Good. It gave her more time. She wondered when the last time was that someone cooked for him. Well, today she would be that someone. Hopefully she’d be able to surprise him with something good made from whatever she could scrounge up in a single man’s kitchen.

  She padded through the living room and picked up her flannel and undergarments along the way, her socks, too, haphazardly dressing herself—albeit only partially—on the way into the kitchen.

  She laughed when she saw the two mugs still sitting on the island.

  Yesterday had not exactly gone according to Dani’s half-day Friday plan. It had gone so much better than she could have imagined.

  And now she was here, emptying and washing out the mugs to start fresh. And it was almost Christmas, and everything felt like it was falling into place.

  She found eggs and bacon in the fridge and a loaf of rustic bread on the counter. Her stomach growled again, either in protest that she wasn’t moving fast enough or in appreciation for the feast it was about to receive. Whatever the reason, Dani got to work opening and closing cabinets and drawers until she found everything she needed, which wasn’t that difficult. Peyton had the bare minimum as far as kitchen supplies, basically just enough for one person to get by from day to day. That would do for now.

  Butter melted in a skillet on the stove while the bacon baked in the oven below. The bread was sliced and in the toaster, the teakettle plugged in, and a bowl of beaten eggs waited to be scrambled.

  She heard her phone ring from the living room floor and ran to grab it before it woke her sleeping cowboy. She picked up the phone but the screen was black. The ringing sounded again, and she realized she must have been holding Peyton’s phone and not hers. She dropped it on the rug and finally answered the correct phone, silencing the ring.

  “Mami,” she whispered, running back to the kitchen before the kettle whistled or the butter burned. “This isn’t the best time.”

  She poured the eggs into the skillet and moved them around with a spatula, making sure they cooked evenly and just enough so they were light and fluffy, not dry and stuck to the sides of the pan.

  “Are you cooking?” her mother asked. “I can hear kitchen sounds. I thought you only drank those chalky protein shakes after a morning run.”

  Dani rolled her eyes. The woman was the best cook Dani knew. Of course Mami heard kitchen sounds through a phone.

  She set the phone on the counter, putting her mom on speaker.

  “I didn’t run this morning,” Dani admitted, now plating the eggs.

  She opened the oven to take a look at the bacon, decided it needed to get just a little crisper, and closed it with her hip.

  “Didn’t run?” her mom asked. “Are you sick? Do you need my caldo de pollo? I have some in the freezer I can defrost. Or I can make a fresh batch. I’ll come over—”

  “I’m fine, Mami. I just decided to sleep in for once.”

  Silence rang out for a beat before her mother spoke again.

  “Did you spend the night with the mayor?” she asked point-blank.


  “Mami,” she said, louder than she would have liked.

  Dani’d had the good sense to text Casey the night before and let her know she wouldn’t be coming home until sometime today. But Casey didn’t gossip, least of all to Dani’s mom.

  “What?” her mother asked. “Uncle Jorge said he saw you on the motorcycle heading toward the Cooper house. Yesterday. You skipped your run. You’re cooking. I’m just putting all the puzzle pieces together.”

  Uncle Jorge. Of course.

  “Does Mayor Cooper like caldo de pollo with a little kick? So good for the cold weather. I’m taking it out of the freezer right now. You could bring him for dinner tonight. Jorge is fixing my doorbell. Well, he’s installing one of those fancy ones that has a camera on it. I was going to make him dinner anyway, so two more would be no trouble.”

  “I like chicken soup,” a man said.

  The groggy, deep voice came from behind her, and Dani spun to see Peyton standing in the entryway to the kitchen wearing nothing but the flannel pants he had on the night she’d responded to his accidental emergency call. His lean, muscular torso was bare, his chestnut hair rumpled and sleep-mussed.

  “That’s it, mija,” Dani’s mother said, still on speaker. “He knows Spanish. He’s a keeper. I’ll see you two at six.”

  Her mother ended the call.

  The teakettle whistled.

  Dani let out a nervous laugh and held up the two plates of eggs.

  “Surprise!” she called out over the still-screaming kettle.

  Peyton unplugged the kettle and turned to face her, a beautiful grin plastered across his face.

  He took the plates from her hands and set them down on the island, then skimmed his fingers through her hair, pulling her to him with a bone-melting kiss.

  Dani Garcia was bringing the mayor, Peyton Cooper—the man for whom she’d unwittingly pined for fifteen years—home. Tonight. For a family dinner.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter Ten

  Since nothing was open at half past five on a Saturday afternoon other than the Meadow Valley Inn and the Midtown Tavern, Peyton crossed his fingers in hopes that the tavern could help him out.

  Before he stepped inside, though, he paused, taking in the sight before him. Dani was right. Even though no lights were yet lit, there was an inflatable Santa on top of the Meadow Valley fire station roof, sitting on what he could tell would be a lighted engine once the parade was underway. Across the street, Trudy Davis stood on the window seat inside Storyland, her bookshop. Peyton could see what looked like a staple gun in one hand as she grabbed a rope of lights from an employee with the other.

  All around him, shop owners worked tirelessly in the dwindling daylight. He expected to be hit with a wave of grief, for his fight-or-flight instinct to kick in, or at the very least to fall into a heavy-as-hell sulk. Instead, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. And when he walked toward Midtown Tavern’s front door, his steps felt a little lighter.

  He shook his head and laughed. It looked like Dani Garcia had knocked the grinchiness right out of him.

  The place wasn’t too crowded, which made it hard not to notice heads turning when he walked in. He greeted the townsfolk he knew and smiled at those who were likely tourists as he made his way to a stool at the bar.

  Casey spotted him as quickly as the rest of the patrons. She tucked her long blue bangs behind one ear and gave Peyton a knowing grin as she approached him.

  “Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Mayor, when I’m pretty sure you have a prior engagement this evening,” she said.

  He sighed. “And here I thought you weren’t much for gossip.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not gossip if I’m talking directly to the source. Plus, I live with Dani. We may operate on conflicting schedules, but that doesn’t mean I’m not in the know when she’s taking a gentleman caller such as yourself home for dinner.” Casey leaned forward over the bar and narrowed her eyes at him. “You are being a gentleman, aren’t you, Mayor Cooper? Doing right by my girl and all that?”

  She straightened and arched her brows.

  He raised his right back. “Have you ever known me to be anything less?” he asked.

  “Ah, but do I really know you, Cooper? Fifteen years is a long time. It can change a man,” she said, her smile faltering.

  “Hey,” he said, all playfulness gone from his voice. “I was really disappointed to hear that you and Boone didn’t go the distance. Always thought you two were the couple most likely to—”

  “Yeah, well…” She cut him off. “He’s marrying a real estate broker from Chico. Met her when he had to drive out there for some auto part he couldn’t find locally, and the rest is history. She’s moving here and everything, says we’re an untapped market for great real estate development.” She said the last part in an overly bubbly voice that was very un-Casey. “At least, that’s what I hear,” she added. “Now, back to why you’re here instead of knocking on Miranda Diaz’s door with a bottle of wine and your winningest politician grin.”

  He realized she was putting the Casey-Boone discussion to rest and followed her lead.

  “I’m all good with the grin. But the wine…” He winced.

  Casey crossed her arms. “And I look like a liquor store to you?” She glanced around the bar, at the beer taps, the bottles of liquor on the shelf behind her, the small wine refrigerator below. “Okay, fine, I can see how that question might be a little misleading.”

  “Look,” he said. “Everything is closed, and this whole me coming to dinner thing just sort of happened today. I’ll pay you double whatever you’d charge if someone were to order it to drink here.”

  Casey smiled. “And here I was going to give it to you on the house. You really shouldn’t show your hand so early, Mr. Mayor. So, what will you folks be eating? Wait. Forget I asked. Miranda always has her spicy chicken soup on hand. It’s a staple, and it’s one of the best things you’ll ever taste.” She walked to the bar and opened the wine refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of white. “Sauvignon blanc,” she said. “Pairs great with the soup and is always a good one to kick off the evening.”

  She handed the bottle to him, and he let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing.

  “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver. What do I owe you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Go on. Take it. If you want to repay me, you can get me some extra help around here. Can’t seem to find someone who wants to tend bar full-time other than myself, and I don’t even want to tend bar full-time.”

  He smiled. “I’ll keep an eye out,” he said, then held up the gifted bottle. “Thanks again for this. Also, did I hear you call Dani’s mom by the name Diaz? Not Garcia?”

  Casey nodded. “After Dani and Julia’s dad split, Miranda went back to her maiden name. There was some bad blood there for a while, but now both parents spend Christmas at Julia’s in Miami like it’s what they’ve always done. Dani, on the other hand…” She shook her head. “She took it the hardest, which is why this time of year really hits her, you know? Anyway, like I said, you better do right by her. She deserves nothing less.”

  “You’re right,” he said, then walked out of the tavern grateful for the wine yet feeling like an ass for how he’d behaved when the whole light festival business had begun. The holidays were just as difficult for Dani as they were for him. She simply went about dealing with it in a different way. A better way. She took all of her energy and put it toward making each Christmas more special than the one before, while he’d wanted to pretend it didn’t exist.

  He needed time to think, to process how much Dani had changed his life in the short time since he’d let her see past the polished veneer that was Mayor Peyton Cooper.

  He’d driven to town but decided to walk the rest of the way to Meadow Valley’s residential area. It was cool outside but not cold, and for the first time since he could remember, he didn’t want to speed by the decorated windows, the strung lights just waiting to be lit in thre
e more days.

  He’d been aimless since he’d gotten back to town, but tonight he felt like he might have direction, something to look forward to. Someone who might even give him hope.

  By the time he made it to the small blue cottage at 165 Locust Way, he was smiling. It didn’t even faze him that the roof was trimmed in a rainbow of holiday lights. Seemed like the closer he got to wherever Dani Garcia was, the easier everything simply became.

  He stepped onto the porch, his free hand raised and ready to knock on the white door that was framed on either side by white-trimmed windows, when the door flew open before he had a chance to make contact.

  An older woman, a few inches shorter than Dani and with dark brown hair cropped short, opened her arms in welcome.

  “Mayor Cooper!” she said, wrapping him in a warm hug. “It’s so nice to see you.”

  He hugged her back, of course, even though it had been some time since he’d greeted a virtual stranger with such a gesture. Come to think of it, Peyton had never actually hugged someone on first meeting. He was an expert at shaking hands, but this was—unexpected. Especially when the woman knew her daughter had been cooking breakfast at his house earlier that morning.

  “Mrs. Diaz,” he said when she straightened. “It’s so nice to officially meet you.”

  She clapped her hands together. “You did your homework, young man. Didn’t you? I’m impressed. But please, call me Miranda.”

  He held out the bottle of wine. “Well then, Miranda, this is for you.”

  She gave him a wry grin. “You know, you’re not even through the door yet, and I’m just about ready to offer you my daughter’s hand.”

  He suddenly coughed, choking on nothing in particular, and Dani’s mother laughed.

  “I’m joking,” she said. “But it was worth it just for that terrified look on your face. Which is now forever caught on camera—or as long as it stays in the clouds. How is the video in the clouds? I still don’t get technology sometimes.”

  “The cloud,” a man called from inside. Peyton guessed it was Dani’s uncle Jorge. Miranda waved him off as if he could see her. Then she motioned for Peyton to follow her inside. “Jorge just installed one of those video doorbells. That’s how we knew you were here. I get a notification on my phone, and then I can look and see who’s setting off the motion detector.”