Page 9 of A Not So Merry Kiss-mas
Shedidcheck me out.
A full grin spreads across my face just as the cashier tells me the total for everyone’s order. Bells tinkle throughout the cafe, and I glimpse the end of the counter to find Melanie gone.
My heart sinks and a knot grips my stomach as I walk to the community center.
It takes less than five minutes to reach the building, and when I walk through the door, it’s bustling with activity. Not a surprise since the Christmas season is in full swing and everyone is rushing to get ready for Main Street’s business holiday window painting this weekend. Each year, the windows of all the businesses depict a specific winter scene based on a theme.
“Michael,” Lucy yells, waving her hand furiously when she sees me. “You’re here to grab the decorations for the Nicholses, right?” I nod, and she points to a tall pile of boxes stacked against the wall. My head drops back and I groan. Cole didn’t mention I should bring my truck.
The Nicholses lend the town decorations to use throughout the year, and then pick them up for their annual holiday bash.
“Thanks, Lucy.” I say giving her a thumbs up. “Someone forgot to mention there were so manybigboxes and that I’d need my pickup. I’ll be back in about ten minutes.”
She nods her head and giggles.
Thirty minutes later, I’m knocking on the Nicholses front door, holding two of the three boxes. I hear the door swing open, just as Cole teases, “Is someone there?”
“Very funny!” I mutter. “Can you grab these? I need to get the last box from my truck.”
The weight lifts from my arms, and I turn and walk back toward my vehicle. Carrying the last box back to the house, a smile crosses my face.
Decorating is one of my favorite things to do, and this party is a staple for the town. I’m excited to help get the house in the holiday mood.
I also find that I’m excited to be meeting Noelle’s friend, Mel. If nothing else, it will get me back in the swing of dating again.
Chapter Five
Mel
Running up the stairs to my apartment, a frustrating buzz hums through my veins at my last encounter with my agitating neighbor in the coffee shop. Why can’t I stop thinking about him?
It’s not like I haven’t seen, and then forgotten, gorgeous men before. But Michael? He lingers.
He’s also completely immune to my obvious I’m-not-interested vibes. Except for the moment when my gaze ran over his body.
That was not me acting like I’m uninterested. I slam my palm against my forehead and groan, “Why did I do that?”
And what about him paying for the other people in line?
If I’m not careful, that man might be the one to slip through my well-constructed defenses. Which means his living next door could be more than just an inconvenient proximity.
Not to mention, Mrs. Fletcher adores him and never misses an opportunity to recount how kind and considerate Michael is by constantly checking in on her.
Like the conversation I had with her yesterday.
I knocked on Mrs. Fletcher’s door, bouncing on my toes, ready to get out before the door down the hall opened. A sigh of relief escaped when she finally answered.
An evergreen wreath hanging on her door, no doubt picked up for her by my noisy neighbor.
“Mrs. Fletcher, I’m heading out. Anything I can pick up for you?” I asked quietly, in an attempt to keep my voice from echoing down the hall.
“Michael helped me yesterday, dear. Thank you.” Her eyes sparkled as she stared at my bouncing feet, and internally I groaned, knowing what she’d say next. “He’s single, you know.”
There it is.
“If I didn’t know you’d make sure I did,” I teased, referencing one of the thousands of times she’s said that.
“You know I was married to my annoying next-door neighbor for almost sixty years,” she sing-songed, and this time I couldn’t control the roll of my eyes.
