Page 100 of Mistletoe and Mischief

“Well, maybe,” Danielle agreed, putting her cell back in her sweater pocket, “but you were just a kid. I’m surprised you kept it, though. If it was me I would’ve tossed it years ago.”

Beth opened her mouth to defend her daughter, then closed it. No need to get into a useless argument.

“If you think it’s ugly, why would you put it on the tree?” Danielle asked. “I mean, you’re right, it really isn’t very attractive.” She stood and retrieved an ornament from the box. “There are some darling ones here.” She held up one of the felt gingerbread men Beth had sewn the first Christmas she and Kent were married. “Now this is kind of amateurish, but it’s...nice. By comparison.”

“We put up the wooden snowman,” Beth said, carefully handing Danielle her cocoa, “because Sophie made it herself. The decorated tree in the living room is for show. This one is for family, for memories of Christmases past.”

“Sort of like that Charles Dickens book,” Danielle said. “The one with the ghosts. And Tiny Tim.”

“Something like that,” Beth murmured as she brought Kent his hot cocoa.

“Do you have one without any chocolate sprinkles?” Danielle asked.

“Sure.” Beth retrieved the cup and went back to the kitchen. She dumped the whipped cream in the sink and added a fresh dollop minus the chocolate sprinkles.

“Mom sewed those for her and Dad’s first Christmas,” Bailey was telling Danielle when Beth came back.

“The hot chocolate is even better than I remember.” Kent spoke quickly, breaking into his daughter’s reminiscence.

“I make good hot chocolate, too,” Danielle said. “I’m an excellent cook. I want you to try my macaroni and cheese.”

“Uh, sure.” Kent looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Danielle beamed. “I have a special cooking trick. You start with the boxed kind and then you just add stuff. My secret is to put ketchup in the water when I cook the noodles.”

“I’ll have to try that myself,” Beth said politely, trying not to cringe. Difficult as it was, she turned her mind away from Kent and his...friend. She hated to admit this, but she was jealous of Danielle.

Danielle sneezed once, loudly. So loudly, in fact, that it startled Beth and Princess, too. The sneeze sounded like a moose in heat—or what Beth imagined that would sound like.

“Oh, sorry,” Danielle said, clearly embarrassed.

“Bless you,” Sophie said.

Bailey handed Danielle a tissue.

“Thank you.” She noisily blew her nose. “It’s that dog,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at Princess. “I’m allergic to dogs.”

“Oh, you should’ve said something earlier.” Beth immediately collected Princess and took her to the kennel outside. Even with Princess out of the room, there was still Roscoe, sleeping beside the fireplace. While Beth kept a tidy house, there was bound to be dog hair everywhere. It was the perfect excuse to send Kent and Danielle on their merry way.

“Beth.”

Kent met her on the back porch as she returned from the kennel. He kept his hands in his pockets, his arms held close to his body to ward off the cold. He followed Beth inside, to the laundry room. One of the five remaining puppies jumped up, balancing his paws against her calf. Beth automatically reached down and brought him into her arms, resting her cheek against his soft head.

“Listen,” Kent said. “I hadn’t planned to bring Danielle with me. It’s just that—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She carefully put the puppy back on the floor. She attempted to brush off his apology because her heart was doing crazy things. With the two of them in such a small space, the atmosphere was intimate, and with both doors closed it was private. All she needed to do was lean forward ever so slightly and their lips would meet...

Where didthatidea come from? She couldn’t give in to the impulse. But it seemed so natural to kiss Kent, to press her mouth to his. Beth immediately opened the door leading into the house.

Unfortunately, she forgot about the puppies. An open door was an opportunity and they took it. They shot out of the room as though fleeing a burning building.

Beth rushed after them and Kent did, too. He trapped one by falling to his knees and had him back inside the laundry room seconds later. Beth wasn’t nearly as lucky. Seizing their opportunity, the other four dashed in different directions.

Beth knew the instant one of the puppies made it into the family room because Danielle let out a squeal. “Get that dog,” she cried, apparently to one or both of the girls. Her command was followed by another moose-in-heat sneeze.

Beth hurried into the room. “I’m so sorry,” she said, and she was. She’d had no intention of freeing the puppies when she’d opened the door. The truth was she’d completely forgotten they were there.

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