Chapter 3
Reece
For the record, I’m fully aware of the wildfire I just invited into my home.
Luckily, I know how to suck the oxygen right out of her flames. In theory. If she doesn’t kick me in the family jewels first.
As I fill in Jace Riley, the owner of Riley’s, he shakes his head before bracing his arms against the bar between us. The usually stoic man just stares like he can’t decide whether to laugh or call me an idiot.
“Wait, wait, wait. You agreed to let your sister’s best friend—the same girl I’ve caught you playing ‘Thirty-Seven Minutes in Heaven’ with in my storage closet and ripping you a new one in the same hour—to crash in your thousand-square-foot mini house for the most community-fun-filled week of the year. ”
Well, when he puts it like that…
“Damn it. I’m screwed,” I grumble into my soda as Jace laughs. “It’s not fair. That incident was years ago, and it only happened once.”
“It was last year, but don’t worry. Your secret is safe.”
Okay, I may not have a full handle on this situation.
“It’s Christmas, and she isn’t heading to see her family. What was I supposed to do?”
“Exactly what you did,” he says, still too giddy at my expense. “But try not to chase the mistletoe, if you know what I mean.”
“No, Jace, I don’t know what you mean.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Hell, you’re this cranky now. Maybe you should. Might make your holidays a little brighter.”
I toss my paper coaster at him as I get ready to leave. “Just give me my food and let me go in peace.”
As he grabs it from the window behind him, he continues with his one-sided banter. “Maybe let her jingle your bells? I’ll be sure to get with Noah. We’ll put mistletoe at every possible location for you. Maybe it’ll up your chances.”
I grunt in response, snatching the bag from his hands with more force than necessary. "You're hilarious. Really. Ever think about stand-up?"
"Only for you guys," Jace calls after me, laughing.
As I head home with my little sister’s best friend’s favorite chicken wrap in hand, Jace’s words play in my head.
I love Christmas. I love the atmosphere of a little town like Havenwood wrapped in holiday cheer with little winter scenes painted on shop windows.
Then there are the carriage rides I manage on the night of the Christmas tree lighting.
Speaking of, I still need to get with the boss man to make sure we have a secondary person down to help.
Not that we actually need one—the crowds aren't that big, and Butterbean could run the route blindfolded at this point—but if I volunteer McKenna for crowd control or keeping kids entertained while they wait...that's a few more hours with her.
The quick drive from the square to my simple two-bedroom house proves how quickly word travels in a small town. A sprig of mistletoe hangs over my front door, which means either Noah or one of the Flynn brothers is in on Jace’s plan to make this awkward as hell.
Before I get out of my truck, McKenna’s gray sedan pulls in next to me. Her long hair is a mess from where I snagged her bow earlier. Huh. I figured she’d have pull it back up the second I disappeared. She always has an extra hair tie.
I take an extra moment to study her through the glass, knowing it might be the only time I can admire her beauty before this plan falls apart.
Thick strands of waves rest over her shoulders, her bangs falling forward and successfully shielding her eyes from sight. I know this is a terrible idea. Just like I know I should put this old Ford in reverse and crash at my boss’s place until I get these thoughts under control.
She’s your sister’s friend. She’s off-limits. She won’t go for it.
As McKenna tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, she glances my way, and I know I’ll be begging my sister for forgiveness rather than permission.
Baby-blue eyes framed by dark lashes sear my soul as I take in the slight pout of her lips, the pinch between her brows, and the pure exhaustion she doesn’t try to hide. I kill the engine and climb down, bag of food in hand as I step around to her driver’s door.
My fingers tighten around the handle. For a guy who can wrangle thousand-pound horses, it’s ridiculous how careful I have to be with one woman who looks like she might shatter if I breathe wrong.
She stares through her windshield as if I’m not here, but the quiver of her chin is all I can handle before I’m ripping the door open, leaning over, and unbuckling her seatbelt. As I back away, I take her hands into mine and tug her to her feet.
“Let’s go inside and eat while it’s fresh. Then I’ll bring your bags in,” I say as I steer her to the house.
When she doesn’t have a snappy reply, I have to work at keeping my thoughts locked down.
Our roles in each other’s lives have always been the same.
She is the overprepared planner who always has a smile while keeping her worries locked behind a wall of Vibranium, and I am the pain-in-her-ass confidant who makes her laugh or pisses her off.
But the protector in me can’t handle the look of utter defeat on McKenna’s face. So, I do the one thing I know will get a reaction. Good or bad, it’ll be better than the shell of the girl I know.
As we reach the front door, she still hasn’t looked up to take in her surroundings. I set the bag from Riley’s on the rocking chair before turning McKenna toward me and bracing one arm against the siding above her head. The other hand grazes her chin, tilting it up until her eyes finally meet mine.
“Funny thing,” I whisper, our lips merely inches apart.
“Someone decided to place mistletoe all over town.” My fingers urge her chin up a little more, and I grin as realization lights in her eyes.
Before she can react, I close the distance between us.
Her lips are soft, the taste of dark roast and peppermint hitting my senses.
I’d be okay getting my daily dose of caffeine from her lips if it means this.
I wish oxygen wasn’t a necessity as I lean my forehead against hers and slide the hand on her chin up to cup her jaw. As she settles back on her feet, her lashes flutter against pinkened cheeks.
“Hi, Kenna,” I whisper as her hand releases its grip on my shirt.
“Hi.”
Then, to save us from anything more happening, I do the last thing I want to do.
I back away, grab the food bag off the chair, and walk through the front door.
“You’ll have to be mindful around town, blue eyes.
Never know when that pesky mistletoe might pop up,” I call over my shoulder, chuckling as she shrieks my name.
Catching her under the mistletoe doesn’t sound so bad.