Page 27 of Mistletoe Meet Cute
Camden looks me over from the top of my head to the tips of my black riding-booted feet and smiles. “No sarcastic holiday shirt today, vixen?”
I look down at my long, cream-colored, cable-knit sweater and black tights. I thought I looked cute when I put this on, but maybe not. “Nope. No funny saying today, Grinch. But my coat is crimson red just for Christmas.”
“You look pretty in red,” he murmurs as he reaches out and takes the bag from me. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
And with that, my grumpy grinch walks away like he didn’t just call me pretty.
Umm . . . what?
“Ihad no idea this place was so big,” Camden muses as he unbuckles Sophie from her car seat and looks around, his eyes wide as he takes in the Christmaschaos of Cherry Creek Vineyards. “I guess I never thought about a winery having anything other than wine.”
“Oh yeah. We’ve got Petal & Vine,” I point toward the ten-bedroom bed and breakfast. “Rainey and her kids live there.” We turn slightly, and I motion toward the actual winery. “The tasting room you were in the last time you were here is over there. And The Barn at Cherry Creek is the luxury event facility Ryleigh opened last year.”
“And the Village?” he asks, motioning toward the Christmas Village and tree farm to the right of the parking lot. “Have you guys always had this?”
“No,” I whisper, my heart feeling a little heavier. “This was Mom’s baby. She loved the holidays. Dad and she had the tree farm as a way to make use of this chunk of land that wasn’t great for growing grapes, and she eventually turned that into all this after Briggs was born. It grew a little bit more each year.”
I motion up the hill. “That’s the main house at the top of the hill.”
Camden smiles and gently presses a hand to the small of my back, and even through my coat and all my clothes, I swear I feel that single touch all the way down to the depths of my soul.
What the actual fuck?
“Come on, vixen. Show me your world.”
I look into Camden’s golden green eyes and wonder if I’m imagining the emotion I see reflecting back at me.
CAMDEN
“Well...” Holly smiles up at me, and it’s fucking beautiful. “We need a big tree for your family room, so let’s go this way.” She picks up a tall stick with hash marks on it going all the way up to ten feet tall.
“What the hell is that?” I ask as Sophie’s eyes dart every which way, taking in all the lights and people around us. It’s like the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future got together for a three-day bender, then puked all over this place. There isn’t a single inch that isn’t decorated for the holidays.
“It’s the measuring stick.” She arches a brow, and her smile turns devious. “Are you really going to tell me you’ve never used one before?”
“Darlin’.” I lean down and let my breath coast over her ear, enjoying the small shiver that slips down her before she tugs on a slouchy white hat. “I’ve never felt any need to measure mytreeto prove a point.”
“Is that so?” she asks with a shaky voice, and maybe it’s the heat that rushes to her cheeks that has me moving closer.
“I haven’t heard any complaints.”
She nods and nibbles on her bottom lip. “Okay, Grinch. I’ll keep that in mind, but we’re going to use this because you betterbelieve we’re picking out the perfect ten-foot tree for Sophie’s first Christmas.”
I look at this tiny woman holding a stick twice her height and shake my damn head. “Of course you want a ten-foot tree.”
“Trust me, Camden. It’ll be beautiful.” She turns on her heels and walks between a split-rail fence, stopping to say hi to everyone the same way her brother did last week, and I follow behind like a lost puppy looking for someone to show him the way.
“That’s us, isn’t it, Soph?” I whisper to my baby girl as we follow behind Holly. Her white-blonde hair practically glowing against her bright-red wool coat. “Were we just waiting for Holly to show up and show us the way?”
Sophie opens her mouth and presses it to my cheek in what I’m coming to realize is her way of kissing me, and for the first time in a long damn time, it feels like everything might be right in my world.
The thing is... I’m not sure what the fuck to do with that feeling.
“Hey, Holly. Look at you all dressed up. What are you doing here? I heard you got some fancy job.” A young guy probably about Holly’s age grins at her in a way I recognize.
I fucking should, at least, because this guy is interested.
Not that I blame him.
