Page 18 of A Very Merry Mistake

“Absolutely,” Glenda tells her before walking away.

That’s when Claire notices the ruby-red slippers on Glenda’s feet. “She’s life goals.”

I chuckle, watching her.

Claire eventually flips over the menu and runs her finger down the list of desserts. “Raspberry chocolate cake?”

“It’s a house favorite. We should get some slices to go.”

“I’d like that,” she tells me.

“You ever had it before?”

She shakes her head.

“Might be experiencing a lot of firsts together in the next few days with this storm,” I say.

“In a strange way, I’m looking forward to it,” she admits.

CHAPTER 5

CLAIRE

I study his green eyes and hate how attractive he is. He’s too gentle and too handsome. He’s the type of man you wish you could find—the kind that once you have him, you never let him go.

However, my sister is right. When it comes to men, my judgment is awful. Maybe this is a persona, an act to hook, line, and sinker me. But Jake has nothing to gain. He has no idea who I am or why I’m here. He hasn’t asked me once, either.

Jake Jolly is a nice guy who’s doing nice things. That’s it.

My fear of being used is a trauma response caused by my past relationships. Being able to recognize it is actual progress. I’m proud of myself for even noticing. For questioning someone’s motives before giving them any details about me is a win, and I’ll take it.

I pause after taking a drink of coffee. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” he tells me, and I give him a look. “It means to go ahead.”

“Ahh. Added to my Texan lexicon. Anyway, why are you being so nice to me?”

His brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not used to people being kind for no reason. So I’m curious as to why. Most don’t do things out of the goodness of their hearts.” I add a failed attempt of a Southern twang to the last words.

At first I think he’s offended, but then a bark of a laugh escapes him. “You’re adorable, but also that makes me feel kinda sad for you. I don’t like knowin’ you’re so used to bein’ treated poorly that when someone is kind, you think they need a reason.”

“I’m somewhat sad for me, too,” I admit.

“There ain’t no reason other than this is the way folks are around here. Why be a dick? What’s the point? Takes so much energy, and I dunno about you, but I don’t want to be the reason someone has a shitty day. It’s Christmas year-round here. We’re giving, caring, and most of all, merry people.”

“So being kind is a part of your culture.”

“Yes, ma’am. You’re right about that.”

I think about the things I’ve read about Merryville. All of them raved about how incredible the town was. Many reviews mentioned visiting in December. Merryville is kinda like Disney: it’s one of the happiest places on Earth. If I was to make an addition to that, I’d say it has some of the happiest people, too.

Just as I open my mouth to ask Jake another question, Glenda slides three plates in front of us. Jake’s burger looks like it was plucked from a television ad, with a perfect presentation of the seasoned fries and pickle. My scrambled egg biscuit and a gigantic stack of red-and-green pancakes are Instagram worthy. I smile, and she winks. Then I pull out my phone and take one photo of the pancakes, framing it so the stack looks bigger than it is. Melted butter drips off the side, and my stomach growls with anticipation.

When I cut a small triangle from them and pop the warm, sugary bread into my mouth, I moan. It’s so buttery, with the right amount of sweetness. As Jake bites into his burger, I snag one of his fries.

“Have as many as you’d like,” he offers, so I take another.

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