Chapter 19 Frozen Fruitcake
FROZEN FRUITCAKE
ROWAN
“Penelope dashed around the corner, peered past the snow-covered bridge, and spotted the thief,” Mia says dramatically, and before she can do it, I flip the page at the speed of light.
I’ve got to know how Penelope catches the stinker who had the audacity to steal the gifts from under the Christmas tree in the mayor’s office.
“Who did it?” I ask urgently, sitting straight up in Mia’s bed, while blue lights from Matilda cast a soft glow from the corner.
Mia shoots me a look that translates to settle down.
“Dad, we’ll get there.” As Wanda curls herself tighter into a dog ball at the foot of the mattress, Mia pauses, takes a breath, then smiles serenely, too damn pleased with herself for her performance reading the newest The Peppermint Patrol mystery from the book Advent calendar.
I make a rolling gesture. “It’s late, cupcake.” The game started at five-thirty, so it’s past ten and, besides—my uninvited guest will be coming any minute.
“I’m wide awake. Maybe I can even say hi to Agent Jason,” Mia says. She’s always called him that.
I tap the page. “Only if you read me another chapter.”
“I will.” She spreads open the pages and clears her throat. “But Penelope didn’t have to do this alone. Her besties, Xenia and Juan, hunkered down next to her, binoculars scanning for signs of the thief. Penelope brought a finger to her lips when—”
A loud rapping echoes through the house. “Hurry. Read me another ’graph,” I say.
But Wanda’s already howling at the moon, skittering across the room, and soon she’ll likely be flying downstairs.
With a mountain of reluctance, I push up from the bed. “I’d better go let him in,” I say, stretching the kinks out in my shoulder.
My muscles bark, a reminder that I should probably ice my shoulder pretty soon. Standard operating procedure after a game, but the story has been more captivating than I expected so I haven’t done it yet.
I head to the bedroom door but Mia’s faster, sprinting out of bed, racing down the hall in her pink “girls rock” pajamas, twin braids trailing down her back. “I’m going to beat you to it.”
But I call after her. It’s better to be safe than sorry. “Mia, I’ll open the door.”
Her shoulders sag, but she stops at the top of the stairs and waits for me. Together, we head down the steps and toward the front door, where Wanda barks like she’s giving the visitor the business.
As I near the entrance, I grab my phone from the foyer table to check the Nest cam.
Would you look at that? Jason’s not alone. He brought his beautiful sister.
My pulse spikes at the sight of her—shiny brown hair spilling in gorgeous waves over her shoulders, a dark green coat, glossy lips, and a merry and bright smile on her pretty face.
A jolt of electricity shoots through my body, but now’s not the time to entertain those thoughts or feelings. Shoving them out of the way, I swing open the door. “Are we having a party?”
“It’s Agent Jason!” Mia shouts, while Wanda dances for him.
Jason steps inside and offers Mia a palm for high-fiving. “Sunday night party. I brought popcorn. And this hanger-on I found watching the Webflix holiday movie of the week.” He jerks a thumb toward Isla, who rolls her eyes and play punches her brother in the shoulder.
“I’ve already seen it five times.”
“As if that’d stop you from making it six,” he says.
“Maybe we can all watch it here then,” she says, trotting past him. They both kick off their shoes, then he waggles a bag of candy cane-flavored popcorn. Damn him. That’s gonna be hard for me to resist, and Mia too.
They hustle into the kitchen. I scoop up Wanda, while giving the unexpected guest a once-over, and taking my sweet time enjoying the view of her here at my house again. “And you accuse me of sabotage.”
She smiles as she undoes the buttons on her coat. “Do we really call this sabotage?”
“You showing up with your brother unannounced? Yes, I call it sabotage.”
“But I texted first to let you know I was coming. You didn’t answer.”
Dammit. I left my phone downstairs when I was upstairs with Mia. A quick scan of my texts now reveals she’s telling the truth. “Seems like you’re getting out of jail on a technicality,” I say with a huff.
“Rowan, do you really want to lock me up?” She flashes me a sweet as cherry pie grin.
Yes, yes, I do. With handcuffs or scarves or ties.
“Fine. It’s not sabotage, but it’s a sneak attack,” I say as she sheds the coat. I reach for it and hang it neatly on a hook by the door.
We head into the kitchen, joining Mia and Jason for a late-night snack. We chat about the hockey game, the book Mia’s reading, and the new trick Wanda learned at Dog Tails until a canyon-sized yawn takes over my kid.
That’s my cue. “Bedtime for real now,” I tell her, then take her upstairs, tuck her in, and give her a kiss goodnight.
“Night, Dad,” she says, as her eyes flutter.
“Night, cupcake,” I say, straightening the book on the nightstand.
“We can finish the story tomorrow,” she says as she settles into the pillow.
“Can’t wait,” I say, then I head downstairs. When I find Jason and Isla in the kitchen, I park my hands on my hips. “All right. I’ve gotten a thong today, a sweater with Santa’s ass on it, and a box of chocolate. What are you two up to?”
“Santa’s ass?” Jason asks, right as Isla says, “A thong?”
I wave a hand. “I’ll explain another time. Drinks?”
They nod, so I pour a Chablis for Isla and a whiskey for Jason, while grabbing a bubbly water for me since I don’t like to drink when Mia’s home. Next, an ice-pack.
We head to the living room and flop down on the big L-shaped gray sofa.
As I drape the cold pack over my shoulder, Isla’s pretty eyes scan the space.
It’s not the first time she’s been here of course.
She got the lay of the land last week when we ate sushi.
But this feels different, and I’m not sure why.
Because you kissed her, you jackass.
Oh, right. That’d do it.
I tense as I try to see my home through her eyes.
Is she thinking about the lack of Christmas decorations?
The fact that my home is simple and unadorned?
Just a big couch for watching movies with Mia, a coffee table covered in coloring supplies, and a state-of-the-art sound system, but nothing that screams a holiday is coming.
Does she like it?
Why the hell am I wondering if she likes it?
Best to get down to business. “All right. What’s going on with this late-night visit?”
As Isla takes a sip of her Chablis, I try my damnedest not to stare salaciously at her pink lips, but it’s hard. Damn hard. She sets her glass on a coaster right as I lift my raspberry lime drink, hoping it’ll distract my one-track mind.
“I told Jason about our practice dates,” she says, and I nearly do a spit take.
But that would give away my crush, so I uncomfortably swallow down the carbonated drink.
“Yeah?” I rasp out.
Jason lifts his tumbler, giving an approving nod. “Brilliant plan. Isla will coach you. It’ll get you one step closer to the real thing.”
Doubtful.
But I’m guessing she told him because they’re in on this matchmaking thing together. She wants everything to be on the up and up. That’s fine. Of course that’s fine. It’s not like we’re fucking.
Not that I’d mind if we were.
And…I need to shut those thoughts down right now.
Which is easy because a bigger question looms. The timing.
The schedule. The one I’ve been trying to figure out since this afternoon, but also, the fact that we’ve come up empty so far in the matchmaking department.
“I’m heading to Evergreen Falls at the end of the week, so I’m not sure how you’re going to find a match for me there or how we’ll even fit in any practice dates. ”
Such a bummer.
But Jason’s shrewd smile says he’s got this. “Yeah, about that,” he begins, then with a nod, he hands off to his sister.
“First of all, I have a new client in town here. She’s an ER doctor, and she has some things in common with you.”
I raise a skeptical brow. “She likes to hit opponents on the ice?”
“No. But she’s a little rough around the edges,” Isla says.
I groan. “Really?”
“And so are you, so it’ll be a good chance before Evergreen Falls for both of you to test out dating.”
I narrow my eyes at Isla across from me on the sofa. “How is she rough around the edges? Is she a grumpy doctor?”
Isla shakes her head. “She has a habit of talking too much about weird medical stuff. I spoke to her tonight, though, and said I thought she could use a practice date, and what do you know? You could too.”
Jason snort-laughs from his spot on the other side of the couch. “It’s like dating on training wheels.”
I jerk my gaze to him. “You’re not helping.”
“You’re right. It’d be more helpful if I filmed your date with Doctor Rough Around the Edges.”
I flip him the bird, then turn back to Isla. “There’s still the issue of scheduling.” I mean, there’s not much she can do about me being gone most of this week.
Isla waves a hand airily. “Don’t worry twice.
Jason gave me the schedule for your return flight from Seattle Thursday afternoon.
You can meet her for a quick cup of coffee after your plane lands and before you pick up Mia.
Then, we can use that experience to really home in on the key areas for your dating school. ”
Damn. This woman thinks of everything. And she makes it impossible for you to say no. “Fine,” I grumble.
“Great. Your assignment is simple—ask her a few questions about herself, but don’t make them about medicine. And her assignment will be to talk about anything else at all.”
“It’s dating remedial school,” I say.
“Want me to come along and give you a grade?” Jason offers.
Isla turns to her brother. “You might actually not be helping right now, J.”
Schooling his expression, he turns to me. “Ignore me. Follow her advice.”
“You don’t say,” I remark.