Page 31 of Jingle Bell Flock
He drained the rest of his coffee and stood. “See you then.”
He started to turn away, then stopped and turned back around. And before I could process what was happening, he leaned down and kissed me.
It was barely more than a press of our lips, really. But it was public.
A statement.
When he pulled back, his eyes were warm. “Miss me,” he said with an absolute shit-eating grin.
Then he was gone, the bell over the door chiming behind him, leaving me sitting there with my cooling coffee and my racing heart.
I lifted my fingers to my lips, still feeling the pressure of his mouth against mine.
After all the hiding we’d done as teenagers—all the sneaking around, the lies, the fear—we could just be together. Out in the open.
Jeremy Price had just kissed me in the middle of a café in Mistletoe Bay.
And I was pretty sure I’d never been happier in my entire life.
nine
. . .
JEREMY
Mistletoe Brewing Company’snew holiday ale was decent. Not great, but … good.
I took another sip, letting it sit on my tongue for a second before swallowing. “Needs more cinnamon, I think. Or nutmeg. One of ‘em—I can’t tell which.”
Stella McKinley leaned against the counter at her back, her dark lipstick a sharp contrast against her pale skin. She’d traded in her full goth look from high school for something more professional goth, I guess. Still black everything, still the same fuck-you energy she’d always had, but now she owned a successful brewery, instead of just brooding out at the Holly Point parking lot.
“That’s incredibly helpful, Jeremy. Thank you for that detailed and specific feedback.”
“You’re welcome.”
She rolled her eyes but made a note on the pad beside her anyway. “I’m thinking about calling it ‘Mistletoe Mischief.’ Too cutesy?”
“Way too cutesy. You’d hate it immediately.”
“Fair.” She crossed out what she’d written. “What about ‘Winter's Bite’ instead?”
“Better.”
We’d been going over last-minute details for Saturday for the past twenty minutes. Stella was providing the beer—a selection of her year-round favorites, plus a seasonal special.
“So we’re set then,” Stella said, flipping her notepad closed. “Three kegs, the portable bar setup, and I’ll bring Colin to help pour.”
“Sounds good.”
“Just to confirm, I’ll be set up near the cheese station?”
“Jemma wants a ‘beverage and bites’ corner, or some shit like that.”
Stella’s mouth twitched. “How very Pinterest of her.”
“Don’t even get me started. Between this and her wedding …” I shook my head, my eyes rolling.
My sister was usually a very chill woman, but she was well on her way to losing her damn mind. I shouldn’t give her too much shit, though. When she and Todd got married, his mom had pretty much railroaded Jemma into the big, traditional religious wedding, commandeering the guest list and forcing Jemma into all sorts of situations she wasn’t happy with. This time around, Charlie had told her she could have anything she wanted. It seemed that what my sister wanted was something out of a boho fever dream.
