Chapter 5 #2
I found myself reluctantly moving closer to the tree with everyone else, Mabel falling into step beside me. Her presence was oddly comforting in a way that reminded me of having a grandmother, if mine hadn’t been a cold socialite who measured affection in stock portfolios.
“Now this here’s the best part,” Mabel said, her eyes twinkling as she watched a group of kids bouncing excitedly near the front. “Been doin’ this lighting ceremony for over forty years. Started when my Jack and I were kids.”
I took another sip of the hot chocolate, letting the warmth spread through my chest. “Your Jack?”
“Beau’s daddy,” she explained, pointing toward a man I recognized from my trips to the ranch.
He was standing with a tall, dark-haired guy who had his arm around a familiar blonde cowboy.
“Jack Turner. Lost his wife when Beau was born, so I helped raise that boy. Jack’s been like a brother to me, but Beau… well, he might as well be my own son.”
I followed her gaze and felt my stomach do something weird when I spotted Diego in the crowd.
He was leaning against a fence post, cowboy hat tilted at that perfect angle that probably came naturally to him, laughing at something one of the other ranch hands was saying.
Even from this distance, I could see the way his smile lit up his whole face.
Annoying. Everything about him was annoying, including the way my eyes kept finding him in the crowd.
“Three... two... one!” the man with the microphone called out, and suddenly the massive tree burst into light. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, kids squealing with delight as thousands of white lights twinkled against the dark sky.
I had to admit; it was actually pretty spectacular. The tree had to be at least thirty feet tall, and every branch was covered in lights that seemed to dance in the gentle evening breeze. At the top, a large silver star caught the light and threw it back in all directions.
“Beautiful, ain’t it?” Mabel said softly beside me.
“Yeah,” I found myself saying, and meaning it. “It really is.”
For a moment, I let myself get caught up in the magic of it.
The lights, the laughter, the sense of community that seemed to wrap around everyone like a warm blanket.
It was so different from the sterile Christmas displays back home, all carefully curated and professionally installed. This felt real. Lived in. Loved.
Then someone bumped into me from behind, and I turned to find myself somehow face to face with Diego Mendez.
“Well, hey there, Freckles,” he said with that infuriating grin of his. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Don’t call me that,” I said automatically, though the protest sounded weaker than usual. Maybe it was the hot chocolate, or the twinkling lights, or the fact that he looked even better up close in the soft glow of the Christmas tree.
“Diego!” Mabel exclaimed, pulling him into a one-armed hug. “I was wondering when you’d make your way over. Have you had any of my hot chocolate yet?”
“Was just on my way to get some, Miss Mabel,” Diego replied, his eyes never leaving mine. “Thought I’d say hello to our California visitor first.”
I clutched my cup tighter, feeling oddly exposed under his gaze. The man had this way of looking at me like he could see right through all my bullshit, and it made my skin prickle with something between irritation and... something else I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Hayden here was just telling me how much he’s enjoying Sagebrush,” Mabel said, giving me a wink that made me wonder exactly how transparent my earlier politeness had been.
“Is that right?” Diego’s eyebrow arched skeptically. “And here I thought you were counting the days till you could escape.”
“I never said that,” I snapped, though it was the truth.
Diego laughed, the sound rich and warm against the cool evening air. “You didn’t have to, Freckles. It’s written all over that pretty face of yours.”
I felt heat rush to my cheeks and hated myself for it. “Do you always talk to people you barely know like this?”
“Only the ones who look like they could use a little teasing,” he replied, his smile softening just enough to take the edge off his words.
Before I could think of a suitably cutting response, Mabel cleared her throat. “Well, I should go check on Frank. That man can’t be trusted near the dessert table without supervision.” She patted my arm. “You boys enjoy the festival now.”
And then she was gone, leaving me alone with Diego and the sudden, uncomfortable awareness of how good he looked in the twinkling Christmas lights.
He’d traded his usual work clothes for dark jeans and a deep green button-down that made his tanned skin glow.
His cream-colored cowboy hat was still firmly in place, casting shadows across his eyes that somehow made them more intense when they caught the light.
“So,” he said, leaning against the nearby fence post. “Dolly finally managed to drag you out of hiding, huh?”
“I wasn’t hiding,” I insisted, though we both knew it was a lie. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy brooding?” He grinned, reaching out and flicked the collar of my rumpled shirt. “You definitely haven’t been spending all your time ironing your shirts.”
“Actually, I’ve been busy avoiding cowboys like you,” I shot back, taking another sip of hot chocolate to hide my face. “Especially ones who think they’re God’s gift to earth.”
Diego laughed, and the sound did something weird to my insides that I blamed entirely on Mabel’s hot chocolate. “Avoiding me? And here I thought you were making special trips out to the ranch just to see me.”
“In your dreams,” I scoffed, though I felt heat creep up my neck. “Dolly sends me there for supplies.”
“And you’re just the obedient nephew, running errands without complaint?” His eyes danced with amusement. “Somehow I don’t buy that, Freckles.”
“Stop calling me that,” I muttered, but there wasn’t much heat behind it. The Christmas lights caught in his dark hair, making it look like he had stars caught in it. It was stupidly poetic, and I hated that I noticed.
“You know,” Diego said, his voice dropping lower, “you’re the first person I’ve met who looks at a Christmas festival like it’s a root canal.”
“Maybe I just don’t like forced holiday cheer.”
“Or maybe you don’t like anything,” he countered, but his tone was gentle, almost teasing. “Except complaining.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he stopped me with a finger against my lips. For half a second, I thought about biting him, but then I saw the little plastic plant he was holding in his left hand.
“Mistletoe,” he said, a cocky grin filling his face. “You know what that means.”
“You’re an idiot,” I said flatly.
“It’s tradition, Freckles,” Diego said, waggling his eyebrows as he dangled the dollar store mistletoe above us.
I felt my face flush with heat. “Put that away,” I hissed, looking around nervously. “People are watching.”
“That’s kind of the point of mistletoe,” he replied with that infuriating grin. His eyes sparkled with mischief in the Christmas lights, making him look unfairly handsome. “Come on, just a little holiday kiss. For tradition’s sake.”
“I don’t care about your stupid traditions,” I muttered, even as I noticed several people nearby had spotted us and were nudging each other, pointing in our direction.
Great. Just what I needed. To be the center of attention in this town of gossips.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” someone started chanting, and to my horror, others joined in.
Diego leaned closer, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “Just a quick peck on the cheek and they’ll leave us alone. Promise.”
I glared at him, but the crowd was getting louder, and Aunt Dolly was watching from across the square with a look that said I better not embarrass her. I rolled my eyes dramatically.
“Fine. One kiss. On the cheek.”
Diego’s smile widened, and he bent down slightly, offering his stubbled cheek. I leaned in reluctantly, planning to give him the briefest, most impersonal peck humanly possible. But at the last second, he turned his head, and my lips landed squarely on his.
The crowd erupted in cheers and whistles. I pulled back immediately, my face burning with embarrassment and something else I refused to acknowledge.
“You tricked me,” I accused, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand even though a part of me—a very small, clearly deranged part—had actually enjoyed the feel of his warm lips against mine.
“Did I?” Diego’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and he still had that cocky fucking grin on his face that I was quickly growing to hate. “Or did you just secretly want an excuse to kiss me?”
The words had barely left his lips before the flat of my hand collided with his cheek, the resounding slap silencing the crowd that had been gathering around us. But Diego barely moved. In fact, he was still grinning as those warm brown eyes of his watched my fury.
“In your fucking dreams, cowboy,” I snapped.
Then, before that handsome face made me doubt once more, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the square.