Page 16 of Mistletoe Love Match
“You’re welcome to spend the night in Mistletoe Cottage. It’s supposed to warm up tomorrow. I’m sure the roads will be open in the morning,” Mr. Krangle said, then removed a fob from his pocket. He clicked it, and lo-and-behold, twinkling Christmas lights illuminated a cabin nestled among the evergreens.
“The guests we were supposed to host canceled last minute,” Noreen Krangle explained. “The cabin is stocked and ready to give you the full Christmas Eve treatment. Mistletoe Manor, the name of our place, is about a quarter mile down the road. We live there with the reindeer.”
“You’re lucky Comet stopped you. There’s not another house for miles. You really could have gotten stuck out in the cold. But don’t fret. While you won’t have the company of your families, I believe you’ll find Mistletoe Cottage quite inviting.”
“And we’ve got top-notch Wi-Fi. It’s a must in our business. We’ve got to be able to connect with the children of the world,” Mrs. Krangle added.
Welp, these two were completely off their rocker, but cracking Wi-Fi was never a bad thing.
“Call your families and let them know what’s going on. We’ll meet you inside the cottage,” Mr. Krangle offered.
“And have a cookie, my dears.” Mrs. Krangle slipped two giant biscuits through the window slit before heading toward the cabin with her husband and Comet, the reindeer.
The trio trudged up a shoveled path toward the charming cabin.
Calliope looked from the cottage to Alec. “That can’t be the real Father Christmas and his wife. If those people were who they said they were, they’d be at the North Pole. And I seriously doubt Santa rents cabins on the down-low in Colorado,” she remarked, then concentrated on the sugary treats, laden with thick white icing and red and green sprinkles.
Her stomach growled. These biscuits could be laced with poison, but they looked bloody delicious.
Barely a second had passed before Alec’s belly got in on the growling action. He eyed the iced delights. “Maybe they’re holiday enthusiasts who enjoy Christmas cosplay.”
It was possible.
“And the cookies?” she pressed as her mouth watered. “If they wanted to kill us, they could leave us out in the cold, right? These must be safe to eat, don’t you think? They sure smell like holiday heaven.”
Alec stared at the cookie confection, and his belly let loose another rumble. “I’m willing to risk it. I’m starving.” He plucked one of the cookies from her grip, took a giant bite, then melted into his seat with a sated sigh. “This might be the best cookie I’ve ever tasted,” he said, humming his satisfaction through the bite, then stilled. He pegged her with his gaze as a sexy smirk graced his lips. “No, it’s the second-best cookie I’ve everdevoured.”
This bloody man.
She raised an eyebrow, but it was no use. She was too hungry to go toe to toe with him. “If I wasn’t famished, I’d lob one hell of a retort at you, Dr. Dirty Talk.”
“I know. That’s what I love about us,” he replied through another bite.
Love?
Her stupid heart skipped a beat. He didn’t mean it like that—he couldn’t. She should just eat the blooming biscuit and let it go.
She broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth. “Fuck me, it’s absolutely scrummy.” She sank into her seat as her tastebuds experienced a food orgasm. But before she could fall further under the sugary biscuit’s spell, she bolted upright. “I meantfuck meas in this cookie is so good it’s like a really great shag—like when we were in the laundry room, and . . .”
Gah!Had she lost her mind?
Alec took another bite, then flashed a cheeky expression. The man didn’t utter a word. He didn’t have to. She was doing a grand job of sounding like an idiot.
She broke off another chunk and eyed the morsel. She had to say something about the biscuit that didn’t involve banging him. “It tastes like the cookie version of joy. If we’re about to die at the hands of the cosplay Clauses, at least we’ll depart this world with smiles on our faces.” It was a bloody morbid statement, but it was better than sounding like she was a few slices short of a loaf of Christmas fruitcake.
Alec brushed a crumb from the corner of his mouth. “So we’re agreed? We’re spending the night in the Santa serial killers’ cabin?” the cheeky bastard proposed.
A titillating zing zipped through her body.
With a dab of icing on his lip and a boyish grin slapped on his face, she was lucky she could coordinate swallowing the biscuit bite without choking.
Get it together.
“Call Anders,” she said, all business, then took another giant bite of her cookie. Maybe an obscene influx of sugar would curb her libido.
Alec retrieved his mobile and put the call on speakerphone, but after one ring, it went to voicemail.
He lifted the mobile a few inches from his face. “Anders, it’s me,” he said, then glanced her way. “And Calliope. We’ve got some bad news. The roads are closed due to icy conditions, and there’s no way for us to make it to Rickety Rock tonight. But we’re safe. We’re spending the night in a cabin near a place called Mistletoe Manor. Say hi to everyone for us. Tell them we’re sorry to miss the Christmas Eve festivities. Give everyone our love. Hopefully, we’ll see you bright and early tomorrow when the road opens.” He ended the call and turned to her. “Did that sound all right to you? They’ll know we didn’t intend on spending the night together completely alone.”
