10 Things I Hate About Mistletoe (Falling in Mistletoe #1)

Chapter One

D elilah Gill took the last turn into Evergreen Circle like she was rounding the final lap on a NASCAR track, and her Subaru fishtailed briefly before she could straighten it back out. She parallel parked in front of her best friend’s house, shoving the gearshift into park harder than necessary, frustration pulsating through her body like a detonated bomb ready to explode. Delilah took a deep, trembling breath as she surveyed the quiet neighborhood. In a week, it would be lit with Christmas lights and displays, with lines of cars and people coming from around the state to see the jolly sight. She loved this small town but could definitely do without the traffic.

All part of Mistletoe’s charm.

On this chilly November morning, no creature was stirring as Delilah exited her car and marched carefully up the driveway to the walkway, avoiding any patches glistening with ice. Holly must not be up yet since she hadn’t salted her sidewalks, and Delilah wasn’t looking to add a slip and fall to her day. That would be the frosting on her already sad cake. Idaho was predicted to have a wet, cold winter this year, and Delilah was not ready for the severe windchills. She pulled her purple scarf over the lower half of her face when it started to tingle like a thousand tiny needles simultaneously pricking her skin.

When she reached Holly’s red front door, she didn’t knock. Holly’s boyfriend, Declan, was out of town until the next day, so Delilah had been having coffee with Holly all week, and today, she desperately needed it. Delilah used her leopard-spotted key on the door, pushing in the heavy wood plank with a creak. The house was quiet except for the tinkling of a bell as Declan’s cat, Leo, came trotting down the hallway to greet her. The orange cat’s big belly swayed back and forth as he moved; his sweet, chirping meow making her smile.

“Good morning, Leo.” She dropped down on her haunches to pet the fur ball behind his ears.

“Should we get some coffee?” she said, standing back up and brushing the rogue cat hair from her leggings.

“Delilah!” Holly hollered from down the hall.

“Yeah, sorry,” she said, making her way toward the kitchen, “I know it’s early, but I need to — Yip!” Delilah yelped when she spotted her best friend on the counter, a kitchen towel clutched against her chest. Her legs were crossed, shielding Delilah’s gaze from her other naked parts, and Delilah slapped her hands over her mouth in horror. “Why is your bare ass perched on the counter?” she yelled.

Delilah spotted the top of Declan Gallagher’s dark head peeking around the island before he responded, “Because we were in the middle of something.”

“Sorry!” Delilah turned her back on the scene, déjà vu washing over her as this wasn’t the first time she’d walked in on her best friend and Declan in a compromising position. “I thought you were out of town!”

“I forgot to text you; he got back this morning. It was a bit … spontaneous.”

Delilah could hear the laughter in Holly’s voice and groaned. “I am trying to be mature about this, bestie. Walking in on Declan cooking sans clothes in your kitchen is one thing, but interrupting your naked Olympics is another story! This is almost as bad as the time I played third wheel to you and Jake Masters at homecoming when he tried to feel you up and grabbed my breast instead.”

“Delilah?” Declan said.

“Yes?”

“Do you think the two of you could rehash this later when Holly and I aren’t so nude?”

Delilah smothered a giggle and stepped toward the hallway. While she loved teasing Holly’s boyfriend, even she could take a hint.

“Alright, I will drag myself out of here and let the two of you continue your escapades. Holly, can you call me later? I need to talk.”

“Yes, I’ll call you in ten—” she let out a squeal, and Delilah tried not to imagine what Declan had done to emit such a sound from her, before Holly amended, “I mean, later.”

Delilah practically jumped over Leo to get out the front door before she heard something she couldn’t unhear. The cold blasted against her face, instantly numbing her nose. She carefully made her way down the sidewalk and driveway to her car, her gloominess returning without the prospect of coffee and a chat with Holly. She’d have to settle for a mocha from Kiss My Donut as a consolation.

Today is just not my day.

“Hi, Ms. Gill!”

Delilah looked up when she heard her name, recognizing J. J. Cox walking past the entrance to Evergreen Circle. The seventh grader was bundled up in a blue puffer jacket and gray beanie, strands of blond hair poking out from beneath his hat.

“What are you doing up so early? It’s Saturday!”

“Heading to Chris’s to play Fortnite.”

“No cap?” she teased, earning a groan from the kid.

“You’re so cringe.”

She loved being a substitute teacher at the middle school. High schoolers were too ready for adulthood, and while elementary school kids were adorable, it was like herding cats most days. Seventh and eighth graders were the sweet spot, although the pay in Idaho was insanely low in education. At least what she earned from subbing paid her rent.

“Have a great Thanksgiving break. Don’t forget to finish your poem for Mrs. Paulsen’s class!”

JJ shot her a sheepish grin, spinning around so he was walking backward. “I’ll get it done, Ms. Gill. I swear.”

“Uh-huh.” Delilah opened her car door, giving him a little wave. “Be good.”

“See ya.” He turned back around and took off, disappearing out of sight.

Delilah climbed into her car and took a deep breath, her troubles still weighing on her mind. The polite rejection letter from Skylark Publishing yesterday was branded into her brain, bringing the total to four publishers who wanted nothing to do with her paranormal romance series. Her agent had taken her books out on submission before Halloween, but there were no takers.

She started the car and pulled onto the road, taking a left at the stop sign into downtown Mistletoe. Delilah wanted to hold out hope that the last publisher they subbed to would come back with an offer, but if there hadn’t been a blip of interest from the others, why would this one be any different?

Although substitute teaching and submitting freelance articles paid her bills, Delilah had wanted to write epic world-building romances with dark, brooding heroes and strong, independent heroines since middle school. She’d finished her first series at nineteen but tucked those manuscripts away on a thumb drive. She’d written six more books after that, but it wasn’t until she’d finished this last series that she’d drummed up the nerve to query several agents and had two interested in her. She’d gone with Beth because she was young and hungry, just like Delilah. When Delilah had asked her agent about her previous manuscripts, she’d said they didn’t have a strong enough hook.

Her stomach twisted into knots, realizing that this could be her first and only chance to achieve her dream, and it wasn’t looking good.

She pulled into the parking lot off the side road next to Kiss My Donut, grumbling internally about all the cars taking up the prime parking spots. Delilah whipped the Subaru into the first space she found, wrinkling her nose when she realized she’d taken the slot in front of Adventures in Mistletoe. The store was still dark, which eased some of her anxiety, because that meant the owners weren’t in yet. Although bumping into Pike Sutton, with his cute dimples and sparkling blue eyes, wouldn’t be the end of the world, sharing the same space with his business partner would be the cherry on top of today’s crap sundae.

Pike had been the subject of her fantasies since she was a moody twelve-year-old wearing too much eyeliner. Back in the day, when others would tease him for his red hair or short stature, he took the flaws others saw and owned them, embracing his uniqueness like she had with hers. They were kindred spirits. There was four years between them, which wasn’t a lot as adults, but between middle school and high school, Pike had never looked at her as anything more than his friend’s little sister’s best friend.

Delilah laughed out loud. What a complicated way of putting it.

Maybe if they’d been thrown together at some point in their adult lives and he’d gotten to know her one-on-one, he might have seen her differently. Unfortunately, it wasn’t Pike’s name she’d pulled last year during their friends’ combined bachelor/bachelorette weekend. Instead, she’d been paired with Anthony, who was everything she’d learned to despise. A gorgeous jock who looked through women like her, or worse, mocked them for their flaws. At least, that was what she’d assumed, since the man had never said more than two words to her before that weekend.

It had taken less than half an hour of working together during the scavenger hunt to realize Delilah may have misjudged him. Anthony had jumped in alongside her, competitive and funny, and incredibly sweet, which was something she hadn’t expected from him. He had a keen mind for riddles and a vocabulary that rivaled her own. Not to mention he was strong. When she’d slipped on a patch of ice, he’d caught her before she hit the ground.

“I got you,” Anthony said, wrapping his strong arms around her.

Delilah ignored the shiver that raced down her spine at the memory of those hard bands of muscly sinew imprinting on her body. Delilah knew her reaction to Anthony was ridiculous, but throughout that night, she’d foolishly compared him to the book boyfriends she’d obsessed over since she’d picked up her first romance novel. Her real-life experiences with men had been eclectic, but none had measured up to the possessive heroes she’d read about in books. Did she realistically want a dragon lord who would throw her over his shoulder and keep her locked away so no one else could look at her? No, but Anthony taking her hand to help her down the bus’s stairs when they’d arrived at the rental house that night made Delilah’s core burn brighter than any spicy scene she’d ever read.

Looking back, Delilah had no idea what she’d expected to happen when she suggested they swipe a bottle of Fireball from the liquor tote and go to her room. But if she’d known how the evening would end, Delilah would have skipped it and stayed downstairs with the group. Saved herself a spoonful of humiliation.

The events of that night played through her mind like a bad movie, and once it started, she couldn’t stop the memories from surfacing.

Sitting on the floor with her back against the bed, Delilah giggled as she refilled her shot glass and some liquid sloshed over the side.

“Oh, shit, party foul!” Delilah downed the shot and passed the bottle and glass to Anthony before she grabbed the nearest item, which happened to be her sweatshirt, to soak up the alcohol from the floor.

“You need to keep your hand steady. Like this,” he said, holding the bottle at an angle as he filled his glass. Not a drop was spilled. “Perfect!”

“Braggart,” Delilah muttered, leaning her head back as the liquor spread warmth from the center of her body outward. “I think we should pause the drinking, or you may be holding my hair back later.”

Anthony took off his hat, ran a hand over his short, dark hair. “I don’t have that problem. I could chug rotgut and get up the next day with a smile on my face.”

Delilah wrinkled her nose. “Why would you ever drink anything called rotgut?”

“Because I was underage and it was free?”

Delilah giggled. How had she never realized that Anthony was so funny? Or was that the whiskey talking?

“Why haven’t we ever hung out like this?” she asked.

“We’ve never been paired for a combined bachelor slash bachelorette scavenger hunt before,” he said, grinning. “Say that three times fast.”

Delilah gave it a try but fumbled on the first line. She fell against Anthony’s shoulder, which was shaking with laughter. He had a nice laugh, all deep and rumbly, and it did things to her nethers.

Nethers? She nearly snorted. She really was drunk.

“Seriously, though,” she said, when their mirth subsided. “I thought you were just a broseph jock.”

“I’m not?” He gasped in mock outrage. “I was planning on having that tattooed on my ass.”

“I would pay to watch that.” Her face flushed when she caught his grin, realizing it sounded like she wanted to see his bare butt. “No, I mean—”

“Delilah I-don’t-know-your-middle-name Gill. If you want me to take my pants off—”

Delilah covered his mouth with her hand. “Stop! Don’t ruin my opinion of you now.”

He mumbled against her palm, his lips brushing her skin, tickling the sensitive flesh, and she pulled it back. “What?”

“What is your opinion of me?”

Man, that smile should be bottled and sold as lethal. “You’re funny and considerate. You had several key moments of chivalry today.”

“I try to keep them limited, otherwise word will get around. I know how you ladies like to gossip.”

“Hey, we don’t gossip! We inform at length.” She smiled, the aftereffects of the Fireball making her feel lighter.

Anthony chuckled, turning toward her. “You weren’t who I thought either.”

“Do tell.”

“For one thing, I assumed you were shy.”

“Ha, you’re funny.” Delilah was a lot of things but shy was not one of them. Although she didn’t always say everything that popped into her mind either.

“I try,” he said with a grin. “With all the sarcastic shirts you wear, I assumed you’d be snarkier.”

“Stick around. It will come.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Delilah wasn’t sure if it was his smile or the Fireball going to her head, but she slid her hand along his neck to cradle the back of his head and pulled him toward her. When she kissed his full lips, Anthony froze against her, and she could have dissolved into the floor in embarrassment.

She started to pull away, only he’d chased her lips with his. Anthony kissed her back, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, and Delilah melted against him, heat rushing through her veins like warm honey.

Delilah stopped walking suddenly, squeezing her eyes shut against the memory.

No, we are not doing that today.

She’d been an idiot who should have followed her instincts about him and kept her distance. If the universe had any mercy, Delilah would never see Anthony again, but in a town like Mistletoe, that wasn’t likely to happen, especially when her best friend’s business was right next door to his. Delilah spent too much time visiting Holly at A Shop for All Seasons, her year-round holiday store, to let Anthony Russo scare her off.

All in all, it hadn’t been that bad. The few times they’d crossed paths, they’d greeted each other and kept their distance. Apparently, he’d wanted to engage with her as much as she wanted to exchange pleasantries with him.

Delilah passed the shop windows, decorated for the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday with falling leaves, beloved cartoon characters, and even a few gnome scenes. Mistletoe took every holiday seriously, not just Christmas, and prizes were awarded to the business that put on the best display. Kiss My Donut’s frosted windows portrayed an orange coffee cup with a pumpkin on the sleeve, clasped in the hand of a smiling woman in a brown sweater. Her painted companion wore a green sweater, and he seemed to be gazing at her adoringly, dipping a sprinkled donut into her lidless cup of coffee.

Delilah snorted. As much as she loved romance novels, finding diverse heroines in books and movies who weren’t perfectly proportionate was a difficult quest. Although plus-size women as heroines were more acceptable now than when she was an impressionable thirteen-year-old, the majority of marketing, especially with romantic elements, featured thin women only. Didn’t they think ordinary people fell in love, too?

Delilah stood in front of the painted window, puzzling over it. Why did the world want to portray love as this picture-perfect scenario? Every romantic movie was set somewhere gorgeous, with enough messy drama to heighten the stakes, and the subjects were stereotypically white, hetero couples with sculpted bodies. Only those movies didn’t represent the real thing, especially since 60 percent of the U.S. was plus size.

Dang, Delilah, you really are in a mood today! Go inside, get a latte, and maybe go back to bed. Or write out your aggressions. Either way, you need a happy today.

Delilah grumbled under her breath as she opened the door and stepped inside, the hissing of the espresso machine and multiple conversations surrounding her. As she took her place in line, Delilah’s gaze immediately locked on to a shock of styled red hair and a matching, trimmed beard. The man standing three people in front of her with broad shoulders and a crisp, pressed collared shirt peeking out above a blue sweater was Pike Sutton, and if this was a Hollywood rom-com, he would have been cast as the comic relief sidekick. He never suffered from a lack of female company in real life, yet the world didn’t consider him leading man material.

Not like Anthony, who happened to be standing next to him. All she could see was his broad back and the skin of his neck above his jacket collar. His head was missing its usual ball cap, showing off his short dark hair that looked like he’d just run his fingers through it. It may have been eleven months, but Delilah remembered how soft it had been as she’d tangled her fingers in the strands, their mouths colliding—

Stop thinking about it.

Delilah did her best, but it was hard when every other kiss she’d experienced before Anthony had been mediocre. Just because Anthony Russo couldn’t appreciate her plus-size shape didn’t mean other men hadn’t considered her the perfect leading lady. Unfortunately, none of them had lived up to her sexual fantasies, and they didn’t make it past the first encounter. Delilah had made a vow after her last few sweet but unimpressive sexual partners: If she was going to up her body count, they’d better know how to make her skin burn with the lightest of touches.

“Delilah!”

She swung around at the sound of her name and saw Merry Griffin waving at her from the edge of the café. Delilah waved back, and Merry got up, leaving her stuff at the table to cross the café toward her.

Delilah noticed Pike had turned around now, and when she caught his gaze, he smiled and waved, those adorable dimples making her stomach flip. She gave him a little salute and wanted to kick herself. Why did Pike’s notice always discombobulate her? Any time he paid the least bit of attention to her, Delilah would end up scrambling her words or making some boneheaded gesture like a freaking salute.

Dork.

To Delilah’s relief, Anthony continued facing forward. At least he didn’t see her idiotic response, although Pike might relay it, and they could have a good laugh at her expense later.

“Hi, sorry to catch you like this,” Merry said, rubbing her pregnant belly. “I’ve been meaning to call you, but the pregnancy brain is strong with this one.”

Merry was her best friend’s older sister, and in their adult years they had become closer. Merry was sweet, funny, and juggled many hats in Mistletoe, putting a lot of energy into the holiday activities.

Better her than me, Delilah thought, spotting a sprig of mistletoe someone had already pinned above the exit. She’d have to be careful not to get caught under there.

“Oh, you didn’t have to get up,” Delilah said, greeting Merry with a warm hug. “I would have come over after I ordered.”

“I know,” Merry said, hugging her back, before releasing her. “But I’ll be in a meeting by then with Pike and Anthony, so this works out better.”

“Okay then. What did you want to talk to me about?” Delilah asked.

“Would you be interested in helping Holly and I put together the holiday bachelor auction?” Merry asked quickly, as if afraid Delilah would scream “no” and race out the door in panic.

“Uh, when is it?”

Merry smiled, probably happy she hadn’t gotten rejected right off the bat. “We’re holding it after the Parade of Lights at the community center. We’ll be combining bachelors with a service from local businesses, and we need a tiebreaker because you know my sister and I. We can’t always agree gracefully. You in?”

Merry’s pleading look was Delilah’s undoing and she gave in without a fight. She loved the Winters and had a hard time telling any of them no, especially when she’d been a witness to disagreements between Holly and Merry and they definitely needed a buffer.

“Sure, Merry,” Delilah said. “I’m always happy to help out.”

“Great!” Merry clapped her hands together. “You can be the notetaker since you have better handwriting than either of us.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Merry reached out and took Delilah’s hands in both of hers. “As my wordsmith, would you be willing to draft some flyers, letters, press releases, and invitations for the event?”

Delilah thought about her lack of publishing prospects combined with her week off from subbing due to the Thanksgiving holiday and forced a smile. “I’ve got all the time in the world this week.”

“You are the absolute best, Delilah! We’re going to get together on Wednesday. Does that work?”

“Sure. I don’t head to my parents’ until Thanksgiving morning.”

“You’re awesome. This is going to be so much fun and, hopefully, we can turn it into a new Mistletoe tradition.” Delilah opened her mouth to respond, but Merry barely stopped to take a breath before she continued, “Okay, I’m going back to my table, but I’ll put you and Holly in a group text so we can finalize the meetup time and place.” Merry hugged her swiftly, her hard round belly pressing into Delilah like a volleyball, and pulled back with a pat to Delilah’s arm. “We’ll talk soon.”

“Bye,” Delilah got out before Merry headed back to her table with a waddle in her gait. Holly’s sister had always been a blond bundle of energy, but had pregnancy given her more energy? Or maybe it was the excitement of gathering up Mistletoe’s finest men and parading them around for charity that had her buzzing around like a pollen-crazed bee?

Delilah fought a grin, her mind already racing with titles for the event. Merry Man Candy? Mistletoe Men on a Mission?

She’d keep workshopping, but suddenly, her crap day was taking a turn. Maybe making a list of the eligible men in Mistletoe would remind her of someone she’d been overlooking. After her vibrator died last month, Delilah realized she hadn’t had sex for over a year and it had been lackluster at best. At the very least, it would be nice to find a friend-with-benefits situation. Something to alleviate her stress.

Otherwise, she was going to have to hop online and find a new handheld buddy, because her fingers were not getting the job done.

“I can help the next in line,” Teagan Hulse, the girl behind the register, called out.

Delilah stepped up. “Hey, Teagan, could I get a large vanilla latte with an extra shot?”

“Sure thing, Delilah.” The tall, willowy teen’s fingers flew over the computer keys and she pressed a final button with a smile. “You’re all set.”

“How much do I owe you?” she asked.

“Oh, there’s a pay-it-forward going, so your coffee is covered.”

“That’s nice. Here.” Delilah handed her a ten. “We’ll keep it going.”

“Fantastic. That will be ready at the end of the bar for you.”

Delilah crossed to the pickup window, standing out of the way.

“Pike and Anthony!” the barista called, setting two white cups with black lids on the counter.

Delilah refused to look, but out of the corner of her eye, she could tell it was Anthony picking up the drinks by the height difference as he passed by her to retrieve the coffees from the counter. When he turned around, instead of heading to the left toward his table, Anthony made a beeline toward her and stopped. Her first instinct was to ignore him until he went away, but Delilah realized that might draw more attention and she finally looked up. His wide grin flashed white on his tan face, the green of his eyes bright and beautiful.

Damn it, why did I look at him? It was like staring into an eclipse without special glasses and now her wits were addled.

Her heartbeat quickened when he raised his chin, nodding at her.

“I like your shirt.”

Delilah glanced down at her I Heart Boobies T-shirt before scowling at him.

“It’s for breast cancer awareness.”

“It’s okay if you like boobies.” He winked. “I do, too.”

The few people closest to them laughed and Delilah’s face warmed, realizing they’d overheard his asinine comments. Before she could devise a scathing retort, he’d already turned and headed to the table where Pike and Merry were sitting.

May you sit wrong on one of your testicles, Anthony Russo.