Page 28 of Blame it on the Mistletoe
Faith didn’t open her eyes quite yet, wanting to take it all in, save it for a rainy day. But when he whispered her name, she opened her eyes, surprised to find that they were still in her kitchen and she was still in her brother’s pajamas. Everything looked the same, but something significant had changed.
“I meant to take it slow, but then I saw the mistletoe,” he said, pointing to a strand of leaves and berries draped directly overhead.
“That’s not mistletoe,” she said, laughing. “That’s holly. And strung together it’s called a garland.”
“My mistake,” he said, with a boyish twinkle to his grin.
Chapter Nine
Santa’s Workshop had nothing on the town of Sweet Plains when it came to present production.
Overnight, Shelby and Team Elf had transformed the Tuckers’ barn into an efficient assembly line that was more suited for Ford’s new manufacturing plant than a small-town wrapping party.
At one end of the barn sat a pile of toys generous enough to grace every Christmas tree from here to the county line. On the other end was an even larger stack, all beautifully wrapped and topped with shimmering, color-coded bows that made the task of pairing children with age-appropriate gifts a little easier. In the middle were several staffed stations, each with a different purpose. There was the sorting station, the boxing station, the wrapping station, the bow station, and so on. Ending with the delivery station.
And that was only the still-unclaimed gifts.
On the way in, Faith had parked next to a line of pickups being loaded with presents that were headed to the community center, where they’d be handed out. They were already wrapped and marked with personalized tags for those kids who, as Faith once had done, had sent in their Dear Sweet letters. If a child took the time to send in a letter, then the team would go to great lengths to mark off at least one item from their wish list. It wasn’t always possible, and it wasn’t always the top item, but Team Elf took their job seriously.
“You headed to the North Pole?” Cody joked, moseying over in a pair of cowboy boots and Santa hat with MR.DECEMBERon the brim. Unlike Faith, he was dressed in weather-appropriate jeans and a T-shirt.
“Pax already used that joke,” she said. “I guess this is what I get for listening to the local weather guy.” She took off her scarf to fan herself.
It was two days before Sweet’s Holiday Shindig and, heeding the forecast’s warning of high winds and icy roads, Faith had left the house prepared for a snowy afternoon. Her getup included a heavy sweater, a heavier coat, and enough bourbon balls for those brave enough to come to a wrapping party under the frostiest of conditions.
Only Mother Nature had decided to take a little holiday joy in keeping the townsfolk of Sweet Plains guessing, gifting them with a sunny and well-into-the-sixties afternoon.
“You know the local weatherman makes his forecast based on how his goats are acting?” Cody pulled her in for a side hug and snatched her container of bourbon balls—which she’d thankfully made the weekend before last.
“Now you tell me,” she said.
“Sugar, all you had to do was hang your head out the window and you’d have thought you were back in Los Angeles.”
“I haven’t looked out the window for the past couple of days,” she explained. She’d been up frosting cookies until 6:00A.M.After a three-hour nap, she woke to start the painful wrapping process. She still had about twenty dozen cookies left, but she’d promised Pax he could work off some hours helping the guys around the ranch. Plus, Faith wanted to see her friends, even if it was only for an hour.
Oh, who was she kidding? It was the thought of seeing Noah that had drawn her here. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since their kiss, three long nights ago. When she remembered back to the way he’d held her, and the sweet words he’d whispered as he’d hugged her good night on the porch, her lips tingled.
Even the possibility of a chance encounter was enough to make her giddy. The possibility of a repeat of the other night? That had her mind working double time to process all the neurons simultaneously firing.
The Noah Tucker of her youth had been a regular in her dreams. Noah Tucker the man? Hewasthe dream. The whole package. Forever material. Happily ever after in a Stetson.
He was all of those and more, wrapped into one deliciously toned package set on courting her.
She hadn’t spoken to him since the kiss but when she’d awoken this morning, she’d found a single bunch of mistletoe tied with a red ribbon sitting on her porch. No note. No knock at the door. Just a sweet gift for her to claim at her own pace with no pressure to respond.
Most women might think it odd for a guy to drop off flowers without a note taking credit for the gesture. But to Faith, it was almost more romantic, because a man like Noah didn’t want credit. He wanted to bring a smile to her face on a day that he knew would be taxing.
Faith looked down to find her hands in her purse, her fingers brushing back and forth over the beribboned bundle she’d placed there. A bright warmth flickered to life, lighting her up from the inside.
She was in a bad way when it came to Noah Tucker. “Did he come with you?” Cody asked, and Faith jerked her hand from her purse.
“Ah, no. I haven’t seen him since he brought over the generator.”
Cody rocked back on his heels. “I was talking about Pax. JTs been asking about him all night. But if you were referring to my brother, he made a run to the store. Should be back soon.”
“This is some setup,” Faith said, ignoring his comment about Noah, while silently hoping he’d make it back before she had to leave.
“You know my wife.” Cody popped a bourbon ball into his mouth. “She’s some woman. And she’s been asking for you.”
