Just Add Mistletoe (Everly Falls #4)

Chapter 1

LORI HARDING’S FRIENDS WERE DROPPING like flies. Well, not like dead flies, but the type of dying off that came with husbands or even serious boyfriends. The dynamics of friendships changed. Weekends changed. Social lives changed. Or more accurately—died.

Lori hated labels, but she lived in a labeling world. So if she were to label herself, it would be a classic introvert. She didn’t consider herself shy, but she was perfectly happy to have quiet nights at home, and she didn’t mind much when social plans were canceled.

Until lately.

She could blame it on herself if she were to be perfectly honest, because she had in fact canceled the last two times on her friends. Saturday lunch, and then a few days later, they all caught a movie—with the exception of Julie, whose baby had been sick.

Lori’s excuse? It was early October, which signaled the beginning of the busy holiday season for her small store, Holiday Express. And she was up to her neck in ordering and stocking.

Speaking of her friend group, a text buzzed her phone. Lori set down a box of Halloween decorations by the large front window. The shop was open already, but business was slow this morning.

Pulling out her phone from her pocket, Lori read Brandy’s text: Who’s all in for the retreat? I need to send the deposit soon.

Replies quickly came through from the other women in the group—all former high school classmates who somehow managed to stay friends more than ten years later.

I’ll talk to Austin tonight, Everly wrote. I’m sure one of our moms will be happy to watch Jessica. Or even both. Haha.

Everly and Austin were newly married and completely devoted to each other. Jessica, Austin’s seven-year-old daughter, rounded out the darling family.

Perfect, Brandy wrote.

Lori set her phone on the window ledge, then tugged off the tape from the box. She opened the cardboard flaps to see dozens of small plastic skeletons, forming a string of lights. She hoped they’d be as cute in the store window as they’d looked in the catalog. Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at it.

Dave and I are in, Julie wrote. My mom is going to stay here for the weekend. She’ll be getting serious superwoman points.

Oh, she’ll love it, Everly replied. Your kids are adorable.

Except when they’re not, Julie wrote, following with a winking emoji.

We’re in too, Stephenie texted. Our neighbor is going to keep an eye on Pops .

Yay! Brandy wrote.

That situation had been up in the air for a couple of days. Stephenie and her boyfriend Cal were the caretakers of her step-grandfather. And now . . . they were down to one person who had yet to answer—Lori. She still hadn’t committed even though she didn’t have to consult with a boyfriend or husband, and she didn’t need to find a sitter for kids or someone to watch over a grandparent.

Nope. Lori was single, through and through. Her friends had bantered around the idea of her bringing a plus one—but since there was no plus one, the idea had fallen flat. The whole idea of a retreat sounded divine, if Lori were to say so herself. She rarely took more than a day off since opening her store, and even more rarely two days off.

Their small town of Everly Falls—yep, her friend shared the same name—wasn’t exactly a hopping tourist destination, but it got its fair share of shopping during the holidays. Which meant that Lori couldn’t do everything herself and had hired a part-timer, Marci—another former high school friend.

So Lori had dragged her feet on the retreat idea since she’d be the only one without a significant other coming. It just all felt . . . awkward. Not that her friends, or their boyfriends-slash-husbands, had ever made her feel that way. In fact, she liked the men and always enjoyed their times together when they did things as a group. But Lori would definitely be the odd one out. And if she brought that up, then Brandy would say her mom could come, or maybe one of their other single friends. But that would change up the dynamics once again—pulling them out of their close-knit circle of girlfriends.

And . . . here it came. The text from Brandy. Lori—any update on scheduling Marci for the weekend?

The text was innocent in its actual words, but the screen glowed mockingly at her.

Now was her chance to completely back out. She’d feel sad to miss it, though. Envious, mostly. But would she be more miserable missing it than if she went and was constantly surrounded by her friends snuggling up to their men?

Lori picked up the phone and stared at the text, weighing all the pros and cons in her mind. She didn’t want to be a downer. If she didn’t go, she’d forever hear about how much they’d “missed” her. If she did go, she’d have to stuff down all of her envious feelings where no one could draw them out.

If she didn’t go, she’d get tons of work done at the shop, then spend more time at her parents’ old house, getting it ready to put on the market by next spring. She’d agreed to do the work so they could move to Florida sooner. Besides, once the house sold, part of it would be her inheritance, bringing in money she sorely needed to expand the shop. Her parents had first told her she could live in the house, but she knew they were also counting on the proceeds from the sale to supplement their retirement. Besides, Lori really loved living right above her shop. She was thirty seconds from her work.

But . . . if she did go to the retreat, she wouldn’t miss out on spending time with the people she loved most. The people who actually cared about her.

If she didn’t go, she’d be able to forget how her dates seemed to cut off after two meetups, never getting to the third-date stage.

If she did go, then she’d maybe get out of her head a little bit. Hike some trails. She did love hiking, and she hadn’t been all summer. Where had the time gone?

Maybe she could leave early if things became too much. She could come up with some work emergency—there was always work to do, and it might be an emergency to her . . . but that felt icky.

Lori closed her eyes, blew out a slow breath, then made up her mind. Opening her eyes, she typed a text to her part-time employee. Are you good to cover the weekend if I go on that retreat?

Marci’s reply came seconds later. Of course. Go enjoy yourself.

Lori switched text threads: Count me in. Marci can cover for the weekend.

Heart emojis followed, and despite her wishy-washy self, Lori smiled. It would be fun—she’d make sure of it. She could certainly bury whatever emotions threatened to erupt. She didn’t know what it was, but since she’d turned twenty-eight a few weeks ago, everything seemed different. Like she somehow needed to be more successful, more confident, more social, more involved—and even though she was a business owner, independent, a good person, she was somehow lacking. She spent way too much time feeling lonely.

Yes, she’d always been alone in a sense, but she’d never felt lonely.

And it bothered her. Not that she was alone—she’d never force a relationship or become desperate for one—but because she didn’t like having feelings she didn’t want to have.

Brandy, efficient as always, sent out the payment breakdown and Lori quickly sent in her share. There. She could put this whole retreat thing on the back burner. She dug into the box again and pulled out a plastic cauldron. She planned to keep it smoking with dry ice. That would fascinate the kids. The teenagers too.

The front door swung open, the bell tinkling overhead.

“Oh, it’s crazy out there,” Marci said, unwrapping one of two scarves about her neck.

It might be October, but it was hardly scarf-wearing weather yet. That didn’t seem to deter Marci. She celebrated the changing seasons as if it were an Olympic sport. Her enthusiasm was one of the reasons Lori had hired her. Also, it was kind of ironic that popular high school cheerleader Marci now worked for the geeky, introverted Lori.

“Crazy? How?” Lori peered out the front window. The morning sky was a soft blue. No rain clouds. It wasn’t even windy.

Then she saw it. Across the street, where the old auto shop used to be, a group of people had gathered, picket signs in hand. It was a bit comical, in Lori’s point of view, to protest against a development the city council had already approved. The town citizen input for the building project was several months ago. What made today so special?

Marci answered the unasked question.

“Today they break ground. Look, the ones with the signs are against the development, and the ones wearing construction vests are in favor of the development. I guess they bought out all the bright orange fabric at the craft store last night. Must have been up all night sewing.” She came to stand by Lori, twisting off the top of her diet soda bottle.

There’d been a massive sign erected in the corner of the property stating Millpond Condos in bold black and green for months, so it was no secret that the developmental project had been approved by the city council.

“Is that Lydia Kane?” she asked, eyeing the woman who was Everly and Brandy’s mom. Lydia wore a linen suit, her hair and makeup impeccable as always. She held a sign high in the air that read in boxy red letters: Say No To The Big Man.

“Sure is,” Marci said, her tone light. “Want to join in? Could be fun. Heard the café is delivering sandwiches and drinks soon.”

Unlike Marci, Lori had eaten breakfast, and besides, she wasn’t opposed to the building of a condominium community. Not that she shared the opinion with her store customers. She figured that not only would it bring more business to her store, but it would give the young adults growing up in the town a place to live. Otherwise, they just all moved out and on with their lives.

“Oh boy,” Marci muttered at the precise moment Lori saw a couple of trucks turn onto the street, followed by a flatbed carrying an excavator. “It’s happening now. Should I pop some popcorn? Get out some chairs?”

Lori laughed. They didn’t have any popcorn even if they wanted some. “The protestors look pretty harmless. Besides, I really want to get all of these boxes unpacked today.”

Lori liked Marci a lot—they’d definitely become friends over the past two years—but sometimes she needed reminding that she was on the clock.

“Right, boss.” Marci downed a couple of swallows of her diet soda, then set it on the windowsill. She pulled out the last of what was in the box—a couple of light-up jack-o-lanterns—then began to open the next one.

Lori relocated the soda bottle to a safer location, then carried over the stool and began to hang the strand of skeleton lights. The trucks had now slowed and were turning onto the property.

The gaggle of protesters crowded around the first truck, raising their signs and chanting something—it was muffled through the window. Lori was a bit impressed. Lydia Kane and her friends were going all out.

The truck came to a rolling stop, and a man jumped out and walked around, then headed straight for the gathered protesters.

“You’ve gotta give that man credit,” Marci said, popping up again and startling her. “He’s not afraid of confrontation.”

“Is that the property owner?” Lori asked. From this distance, about all she could see was a red ball cap and broad shoulders. He was tall—she’d give him that.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Marci said. “My husband went to all those council meetings. The guy is from out of town, of course, so that always gets everyone’s backs up.”

The man was currently holding up a hand as if asking for everyone to quiet down. The drivers of the other trucks climbed out, wearing construction vests. The crowd seemed to grow—had more people arrived? Lori estimated at least fifty people . . . amazing that so many would gather in this sleepy town.

She tore her gaze away and continued with stringing the lights.

“Oh my gosh!” Marci said.

Lori looked at her, then out the window. A fight had broken out between the two groups. She wasn’t quite sure what had happened. But people were throwing punches and women were pulling at other women, and someone screamed.

Lori was so stunned, she couldn’t move for a moment, then she jumped off the stool and hurried to the front door. She didn’t have a plan, but she wanted to get Lydia Kane out of the fray. She hurried across the street toward the chaos, her heart thumping. Lydia wasn’t too hard to pick out because she stood on the edge of the crowd, her hand to her chest as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Mrs. Kane,” Lori called out. “Come with me. Let’s get you out of this mayhem.”

“Lori?” Lydia’s eyes widened when she spotted her. “Can you believe all of this?”

Just then, sirens sounded, and that seemed to break up the crowd. A few people headed off down the street. Two women were in a shouting match. A man on the anti-development side cradled his nose, which was dripping with blood.

“Come on,” Lori said again, clasping Mrs. Kane’s arm. “It sounds like the cops are on their way to sort everything out. Let’s just head into my shop to stay out of the way.”

Lydia looked reluctant to leave, but Lori wasn’t having any of it. “Lydia,” she said in a firm tone. “I think it’s better we get out of the way.”

Finally, the woman nodded and turned. They crossed the street to where Marci stood at the door, holding it open. “Are you all right, Mrs. Kane?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Lydia said. “This whole town has gone mad. This was supposed to be a peaceful protest.”

“Have a seat here,” Lori said, motioning to one of the armchairs she kept by the fireplace that made a cozy nook during the winter months. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Brandy and Everly, telling them that their mom was fine, but she’d been part of an incident.

Brandy replied immediately, saying she was on her way.

“Oh boy,” Marci murmured.

Lori looked up to see someone approaching their shop. A tall man with a red ball cap. He tugged open the door.

Lydia yelped. “It’s the devil himself!”

The man’s frame seemed to fill the whole door, and Lori found herself staring into a pair of hazel eyes that seemed to bore right into her. The man was handsome, she’d give him that. If, that was, someone found an angular-jaw-dark-lashes-hazel-eyes look attractive.

No one in the shop spoke. Likely because they were all staring at him.

“Do you happen to have any ice?” he asked, taking another step closer in his construction boots. “A man out there has a broken nose.”