Page 52 of Mistletoe Meet Cute
“Dairy, tree nuts, wheat, bees, and shellfish,” I tell her, then look up at her parents. “Rainey doesn’t take any chances. Ifyou’re okay with it, she has special hot cocoa that is Rosie-friendly.”
“Thanks, Holly,” Maverick murmurs and looks over my shoulder at Camden as Rosie takes Emmie’s hand and pushes forward.
“You’re good,” Camden whispers as he pulls me into his side.
“I try,” I whisper and look away, still trying to navigate the newness of all this.
Trying to ignore the way the world tilted on its axis last night and the fear I have that it’s going to tilt back without warning.
We make our way through the vineyard, past the reindeer and food stalls, then stop where the line zigzags around French oak barrels wrapped in fairy lights with the vineyard’s logo stamped on the tops. Saint Nick sits on a velvet throne, complete with faux presents, an antique sled, and rows upon rows of grapes hidden under the fresh coating of snow.
Mrs. Claus, also known as Hadley, looks perfect. All bright-blue eyes and rosy-red cheeks. Her red-velvet dress is definitely shorter on her than it was on me last year, but that’s not surprising. However, she hands out candy canes with military-like precision, unlike me, who gave extras out like I was Oprah handing out cars.
Hadley sees me and waves us over. “I swear if another person so much as breathes sticky near this velvet, I will personally put coal in their stocking,” she hisses before she kisses my cheek.
Poor Rosie’s eyes widen in horror, and she sticks her hands in her pockets.
I’m gonna kill Hades.
Rosie moves in next and climbs up on Santa’s lap, rattling off her list while my sister stares at Camden. “So, Grinch. There’s a whole lot of mistletoe around here. Do I need to find some for you two to stand under?”
I choke, and Camden shocks the tinsel out of me when he laughs.
Laughs.
My grinch.
“Couldn’t hurt,” he tells her, and I about fall over.
“I think I’m going to like you.” Hades points a candy cane at him. “But don’t fuck her over, or I’ll carve your heart out with the pointy end of this, got it?”
“This is why her nickname is Hades,” I groan, but Camden doesn’t seem to mind.
“I’ll sharpen your sugar for you. Sound good?” he asks, and Hades nods.
“You passed.” She steps aside as Rosie cheeses for the camera and climbs off Santa’s lap. “Looks like you’re up.”
“Go ahead,” I tell Camden, but he takes my elbow and tugs me along.
“This was your idea, vixen. Don’t think you’re getting out of it that easily.”
And there goes another piece of my heart.
“My favorite elf,” Santa whispers between jolly laughter, and I bite down on my tongue as he slides his arm around my waist. Ugh. There’s a reason my sisters and I call him Handsy Santa.
I adjust Sophie’s dress as Camden holds her close for the picture, and I angle for the camera the way you learn growing up at a vineyard that doubles as every small-town photo op location for everyone you know.
Santa’s hand slips lower until it rests under my coat, firmly on my ass.
The photographer has to change a lens, and I cringe at the extra time.
“Big smiles now,” Santa murmurs a little closer than I expected, and there’s a hint of bourbon on his breath. That’s new. He never drank on the job in all the years he’s been workingfor my family. And with my mind already trying to process that, I feel his hand slip lower.
You’re fine,I tell myself.Step away.
I shift, but so does his hand as it digs into my leggings between my legs.
“Excuse me,” I say softly as I pull away, my skin crawling, but not wanting to cause a scene.
