Page 1 of Mistletoe Meet Cute
HOLLY
Christmas comes but once a year... and unfortunately, the same can be said for me.
—Holly’s Secret Thoughts
“Is that everything?” the beautiful bakery owner asks from behind the register as she pushes three overflowing, pink Sweet Temptations bags across the counter toward my sister.
Hadley snorts and looks down at the ridiculously long list our oldest sister handed her before we left earlier. She may have threatened bodily harm if we messed it up, in typical Rainey fashion. She’s always been a bit of a perfectionist and refuses to accept that not everyone feels the same urge. “Eight coffees, one hot chocolate with extra whip cream and crushed peppermint.” Hadley looks up and smiles at me before continuing, like it’s my fault I prefer chocolate to coffee. “Five dozen holiday-themed cupcakes, an assortment of pastries, four dozen iced Christmascookies, and what did you call those giant flaky chocolate things?”
“Pain au chocolat.” Amelia smiles from behind the counter, like she’s holding back a laugh as she adds napkins to the bags. “And they’re delicious.”
Less than impressed, Hadley shakes her head. “My ass is so not going to appreciate how delicious they are tomorrow.”
“You’re barely old enough to drink, Hadley,” the tiny shop owner resembling Snow White lifts a dark brow before glaring at Hadley’s backside. “Your ass will handle it just fine.” She hands the two trays of hot drinks to me very slowly. “Tell your dad I said hi, Holly. I can’t wait to bring the grandbabies by to see the Christmas Village this year.”
“Thanks, Amelia.” Cherry Creek Vineyards, my family’s winery, transforms each holiday season into Kroydon Hills’ very own live-action Hallmark movie, complete with real-life reindeer, a Christmas tree farm on the edge of the property, and enough holiday cheer to make Kris Kringle feel inadequate. Mom loved the holidays so much, Dad used to say she willed me to be born on Christmas Eve so she could be home for Christmas Day. “Wait until you see Santa this year. He looks perfect.”
A little handsy, but that’s just with me and my sisters.
Hadley snickers next to me, but I refuse to acknowledge it.
She’s just pissed she’s stuck playing Mrs. Claus this weekend.
I turn to leave but stop short, silently begging the hot drinks to stay standing and not topple, because standing behind me is a giant chest... one wearing a baby. A small white hat with two little white bear-like ears covers the baby’s head. A head I can barely see above the dark carrier.
Big hands grab my shoulders, steadying me, and my heart races as I desperately cling to the coffee trays, thankful they’re still standing.
“Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry,” I manage to gasp, horrified over how close I just came to spilling coffee on a baby.
“Hey there...” a velvety smooth and yet somehow rough and gravelly voice murmurs, and oh my garland, if someone could bottle that sound, they’d be a billionaire. “You good?”
I nod as I steel my spine and rein in my thoughts.
“Must be the mistletoe,” a jolly voice laughs from behind us, and the big baby-wearing guy drops his hands as we both look up to find mistletoe strung above Sweet Temptation’s door. Apparently, the Santa standing behind the baby-wearing giant is a bit of a romantic because when I glance his way, his cheeks pink, and he looks from the mistletoe to us with a crooked grin.
I’m not sure what’s making him blush, but my guess is the baby-wearing giant.
He’s beautiful.
Broad shoulders and big biceps strain against a thick gray roll-neck sweater that even an Abercrombie model couldn’t make look as good as it does on this guy. One big hand goes to the baby’s back while the other runs through his own messy light-brown hair as he thumbs it out of his eyes. Beautiful eyes. Eyes the color of warm moss after a hard rain. Eyes that feel like they’re searing my soul.
What the actual hell?
“You okay?” he asks, and now that I’ve seen him, it’s safe to say his voice really does match the whole package. Rugged and handsome in a way that makes my hormones perk up and take notice.
When I don’t answer, Hadley slides next to me, pink bags in each hand. “She’s fine. Aren’t you, Holls?”
I nod slowly, pulling my shit together, ignoring my momentary lapse in—well, everything. “Excuse me,” I whisper and let Hadley tug me away from the soft-spoken man.
He doesn’t smile, just watches as he steps aside, and I feel those eyes on me long after we walk through the door.
Wow.I’ve never been one to consider a man beautiful before, but this one certainly is.
Hadley smacks my arm as we stop next to the car. “Oh. My. God. That man was gorgeous.”
“Yeah, he was,” I agree, holding a tight grip on our drinks and my sanity while I try to open the door without wearing the coffee. “I think my ovaries may have just... melted.”
“I’d actually consider having kids if their dad was guaranteed to look like that,” she teases as she tosses the pink bags in the back seat of the Tahoe, and I cringe, picturing broken, beautifully iced cookies and smooshed cupcakes. But my sister doesn’t seem bothered. She flops dramatically in the front seat and sticks her hands out for me to hand her the drinks. “Is that what they all look like?”
