Page 15 of Catching the Mistletoe

“Thank you soooo much!” As we walked away from the counter, I looked down at the first-class boarding passes in my hand and then up at Mack, who seemed to be in a mild state of shock. “Can you believe this? First class, Mack! This trip is already off to an amazing start.”

“Have you ever flown first class before?”

“No. Well, I’ve never flown before. Full stop,” I admitted. “I can’t even imagine what it’s going to be like. Do you think they’ll have those little hot towels? Oh, what about a full reclining seat?”

“Maybe.”

I was practically bouncing as we headed toward security. It felt like the universe was giving us its blessing. A little nudge and a wink, like it was saying,‘You’re doing the right thing. Now go enjoy the ride.’

We made our way through security and into the terminal. Finally, the boarding call for our flight came through the overhead speakers, and my heart kicked up another notch. “First-class passengers may board at this time,” the announcement continued.

“Oh god, that’s us.”

We walked down the jet bridge and onto the plane, where we were greeted by a flight attendant. “Welcome aboard,” she chimed, directing us to our seats.

First class was like nothing I’d ever seen. Spacious leather seats, more legroom than I knew what to do with, and little care packages neatly arranged on each seat. I took it all in, wide-eyed and giddy. “Is this real life?” I whispered. “Isn’t it something?”

“Yeah.” Mack grabbed my carry on and stowed it before taking the seat next to me. Oh man, what was that aftershave he was wearing? It was so good!

I busied myself fiddling with all the buttons—testing out the seat recliner, the personal TV, even the adjustable headrest—when the plane started to taxi onto the runway. My heart started to beat faster, a blend of excitement and nerves swirling in my gut.

Just then, the plane started to pick up speed, and the force pushed us back into our seats. I couldn’t help it—I let out a small gasp and my hand shot out, gripping onto Mack’s forearm. “Holy fuck. I don’t like that.”

He looked down at my hand, then back up at my face. “It’s okay. Just breathe. We’ll be in the air in a few seconds.”

As if on cue, the plane lifted off the ground, and I felt a sensation I’d never felt before, like my stomach was both dropping and floating at the same time. But Mack’s presence, solid and reassuring beside me, made it easier.

“We’re flying,” I said softly, almost in awe as I looked out the window, watching the ground recede until we were above the clouds. As the flight attendants started to prepare for the in-flight service, I finally let go of Mack’s arm and settled back into my seat.

The rest of the flight was surprisingly smooth, or maybe I was just too entranced by everything to notice any bumps. I tried to focus on the in-flight movie, but my senses were hyper-aware of Mack sitting next to me. It was the fucking aftershave that did it. Something woodsy and fresh and just really hot. I found myself taking little breaths, as if I could somehow store the scent for later.

Before I knew it, the pilot was announcing our descent into San Francisco and in no time at all; we had exited the plane and were headed toward baggage claim. When our suitcases finally appeared, I reached for mine, but Mack beat me to it.

“I’ve got it,” he said, lifting it effortlessly off the conveyor belt.

I frowned. “I can carry my own suitcase, you know.”

“Let me.” Something about the tone in his voice stopped me and our eyes locked.

“Fine.” I was all for female independence, but who was I to argue when he looked at me like that?

We made our way out of the airport and hailed a taxi, Mack letting the driver know we were headed to Pier 39. As we drove through the city, I pressed my face against the window, my eyes drinking in the sights. San Francisco, with its iconic Golden Gate Bridge and sprawling hills, was like something out of a postcard.

As we stepped onto the Pier, I was immediately struck by its vibrant energy. It was like a carnival and a shopping mall had a baby, then plopped it right next to the ocean. The air was filled with the intoxicating scent of salty sea breeze mingling with the mouth-watering aroma of freshly fried churros and seafood. Laughter and chatter filled the air, punctuated by the distant barks of sea lions that had claimed a nearby dock as their own sunbathing spot. Lights twinkled in the shop windows, making everything seem even more magical. The whole place was teeming with life, a sensory overload in the best possible way. And then there was the Christmas shop, with piles of tinsel, even more twinkling lights, and holiday kitsch.

Right in front of the Christmas shop, our RV was parked, ready and waiting. It was a big, boxy beast that managed to look both imposing and festive at the same time. It certainly held its own against the crazy cheer of the shop. It was a showstopper, no question. Its body was painted a bright, Christmas red that seemed to shout “Ho, ho, ho!” to anyone who dared to look its way. But what really caught my eye was the massive mistletoe painted on its side, almost as if daring people to pucker up right then and there. Okay, definitely better not to think of that right now.

As if the RV wasn’t spectacular enough, there was a camera crew stationed beside it, their equipment aimed and ready to capture our every move and emotion. A decent crowd had gathered already, making my stomach flip with nerves. I glanced at Mack to gauge how he felt. Calm, stoic even. Damn him. Standing among the crowd was a presenter with a mic in hand, her face plastered with a TV-ready smile that screamed,‘I love my job, and it’s Christmas every day for me!’She spotted us, and her eyes lit up even more—if that was even possible.

Holy shit, she was intense. A bundle of high-octane energy. Her eyes sparkling like she’d just downed three espressos. She wore a tailored red blazer that matched our RV, her blonde hair styled into perfect waves. She looked like Christmas personified, like she’d sprung straight out of a Hallmark holiday special.

“Arabella, Mack, welcome!” She rushed over, mic in hand, her smile so wide it could’ve wrapped around the pier twice. “I’m Lisa, and I’ll be the host for this incredible journey. We’re so excited to have you both here!”

Mack gave her a nod, his lips pulling into a polite, if not a bit tight, smile. He stepped back slightly, letting me take the lead. Which, you know, I was more than ready to do. I stepped right in.

“Lisa, oh my god, we’re soooo excited to be here!” I gushed. “I’m gonna start by giving a shout out to Randy’s RVs for lending us our holiday home on wheels! I can’t wait to check that out. This whole project is such a dream come true. We’re going to bring so much joy and love to kids who need it, and honestly, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the holidays!”

“Absolutely,” Lisa chimed in, her eyes flicking to the camera to ensure every heartfelt word was captured. “And we want everyone watching to get involved too, right?”

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