St. Nick and Me Are Mint to Be (Christmas Kisses & Cookie Crumbs)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

REID NICHOLSON – DECEMBER 22

“ H armony, I’m in big trouble! You have to help me.”

With AirPods in both ears, the woman doesn’t realize how much her voice carries. I do my best to ignore the one-sided phone conversation as she lowers herself beside me in the crowded airport terminal.

“Sorry, sir,” she mumbles as she sets her backpack on the floor, bumping my foot.

Sir? Do I really look that old? I’m only thirty-four. Though the past week of interminable meetings might have aged me thirty years.

“Seriously, sis,” the woman says, adjusting one earpiece, “I’m at the end of my rope.”

Her words distract me from the pages of my paperback.

“If you can’t stop Gramma and GeeBee from setting me up during the holidays, I won’t get on this plane. I’ll tear up this ticket and stay in Houston for Christmas.”

From the firm set of her mouth, she means it. Hopefully her sister will agree so she’ll end this drama, and I can get back to my story. It’s a best-seller I bought from the kiosk at the airport, but so far, I’m having a hard time getting into it. And an interesting conversation within hearing range isn’t helping.

“Bringing a boyfriend was supposed to get them off my back. But Grant is a moot point. He’s not coming.”

She blows a glossy strand of auburn hair off her face. Gazing up at the ceiling with eyes that look like pieces of sky, she sighs.

“Because a few hours ago, I found out he’s cheating on me.”

Her face blazes as red as her hair, and my pulse rate ratchets up a notch. She’s glorious in her anger. Whoever this Grant guy is, he’s an idiot. Why would he ever cheat when he had a woman like this one? A few minutes of overheard conversation have shown me she’s strong and confident, which is even more attractive than her gorgeous blue eyes.

“I walked in on him this morning! Caught him red-handed in his office with his PA.”

My estimation of her ex just dropped from idiot to jerk.

“Grant barely blinked an eye. The arrogant schmuck just gave me a bored look, and said it didn’t mean anything... Yeah, he used those exact words. He said there was no reason to be upset, because it was only physical.”

Ughh. The man isn’t merely a jerk. He’s a caveman—the kind of guy who makes all of us look bad.

“That’s when I lost my composure.”

Who wouldn’t lose it under those circumstances? I’m fuming, and I don’t even know these people.

“I wish I’d yelled at him, but I didn’t. Instead, I did something really stupid. ”

She shoots a furtive glance in my direction, and I snap my eyes to my book, flipping the page, though I haven’t read a word since she arrived.

“I guess my pride was wounded.”

The tremble in her voice tugs at something in my chest.

She needs a hug.

Where did that thought come from? Maybe she needs one, but it won’t come from me. As my last girlfriend informed me before she gave me the boot, I don’t have the ability to love anyone but myself. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have used her as a convenient date to events when I happened to be in town, never giving her so much as a thought when we were apart.

The sad thing was, I couldn’t argue her point. In the five years we dated, I never mustered any kind of feelings toward her beyond friendship. And I didn’t have the guts to tell her the truth. Or admit the truth to myself.

“It was terrible, sis. I was furious. I started babbling and couldn’t stop myself. I still can’t believe what I said…”

She pauses, and I find myself holding my breath, afraid to miss the punchline.

“I told him I didn’t care what he did, because I was already planning to break up with him. I said I’d met another guy.”

Good for her. I hope it knocked the jerk’s ego down a few notches.

“Technically, that part wasn’t a lie because I’ve thought about breaking up with him, and I have met a number of other men.” She twists her lips to one side. “But I kinda-sorta said something about having a new boyfriend .”

It’s a forgivable white lie, but the kind that could come back and bite her in the rear. I hope it won’t, though I’m not sure why I care. I have no vested interest in this woman’s life.

A cute wrinkle indents the top of her nose as she grimaces.

“Of course, he didn’t believe me. You know all of us MacIlheron sisters are terrible liars.” Her half-hearted laugh feels forced. “But that’s not the worst part.”

I’m holding my breath again. If she doesn’t finish this story soon, I’m going to pass out.

“He asked me the guy’s name, and my mind went blank. I panicked. Complete brain stall. Finally, I blurted out the only name I could think of... Edward Cullen.”

I stifle a laugh and morph it into a cough. When redhead gives me a sideways glance, I avert my eyes and grab my water bottle for a drink.

“Yes, I know.” She fumbles around inside a purse that could comfortably hold a small calf. “But I’ve been rereading the Twilight series, and Edward’s name was on my mind. Fortunately, Grant’s never read the books or seen the movies. If he doesn’t Google the name, he’ll never know I stole it from a book character.”

Her hand emerges with a tube of pink lip balm. As she slides it across her mouth, I get a whiff of strawberry that makes my mouth water. It’s just the flavor. It has nothing to do with how soft and plump those lips are. Oh-so kissable.

Don’t even go there. This woman is not for you, remember? You’re married to your job. No woman can ever compete with that responsibility.

My great-grandfather started St. Nick’s with the purchase of two small cabins in the mountains, but the small family business has grown into a multi-billion-dollar corporation with resorts and vacation homes all over the world. It takes up 99.9% of my time, and I like it that way. As long as I stay busy, I don’t have to think about how empty my life is since the private-plane crash that took my younger brother and parents seven years ago. Thrust into the role of CEO, I built up the company, striving to make my father proud even though he’s gone.

“I admit, it was pretty satisfying to see him blow his top.” The cute redhead picks at a piece of lint on her sweater sleeve. “He was furious when I told him I was taking the new guy to Colorado instead of him. In retrospect, I think he only dated me in hopes of connecting with you and my three famous brothers-in-law.”

I wonder if I’ve ever met these famous brothers-in-law. Social obligations have brought me in contact with quite a few rich and powerful people, though I’ve never really felt comfortable in those circles. As an introvert, I detest all the shallow conversations and manipulative talk at most events.

“Yep.” She voices the P with a sigh. “He was always asking about GeeBee and Gramma, too, saying how he couldn’t wait to meet the ‘famous Underground Granny Matchmakers.’”

I vaguely remember hearing something about these Granny Matchmakers being on TikTok, though I avoid social media like the plague. Of course I have accounts that post all the time, but I pay someone for that job.

“You know, from our first date he started bugging me to take him with me for Christmas. I should have suspected I was just a means to an end.”

I want to tell her I’ve met plenty of guys like this before. This type of person can hone their skills such that they can fool almost anyone. Especially someone as guileless as her. With no concrete evidence, I’m convinced this woman doesn’t have a deceitful bone in her body .

“I had to resign. Grant wasn’t my direct boss, but his family owns the company. I should be able to find another corporate accounting position in Houston if they don’t get me blackballed.” A frustrated growl erupts. “Did I mention I hate guys?”

An accountant, huh? I like brainy women. But she hates guys. That’s a good reminder for me that I’m nothing but an observer here. She doesn’t want or need my help.

She listens for a few minutes, then groans at something her sister says.

“Nope, I hate them all. Every single one. Especially snobby rich guys.”

My gut clenches at her declaration. If she realized I owned a company worth billions, she’d be more likely to spit fire at me than date me. Not that I’m even considering breaking my dating moratorium to ask her out.

“Okay,” she says to her sister. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

I flip back a few pages in my book and try to find my place, but I’m too distracted to read.

“Fine, I’ll admit all three of my brothers-in-law are good men.” She rubs the bridge of her nose like she has a headache. “But y’all got all the good ones. Every other guy on earth is putrid pond scum.”

Why do I feel compelled to defend myself to her? To tell her I’m not like the other guys she’s met?

“If there is a good guy left out there, I’ll never find him,” she says. “Grant seemed like a great guy, but he only wanted me as a rung on his social ladder. And that, dear sister, is why I’m going back to my former mantra—no more dating. Ever.”

That’s exactly how I feel about relationships. Yet it makes me sad to hear her parrot back my own words.

“Listen. Christmas with the family is precious to me. I want to spend time with all of you without worrying what GeeBee and Gramma are up to. That’s why you have to get them off my back.”

All this talk about family has my throat feeling lumpy. I take another stab at reading my book, though I currently can’t recall the plot.

“I know you can do this, sis. Get April to help you.” She gestures with one hand, flailing it in the air like she’s directing an orchestra. “Y’all have all sorts of connections in the music industry. Don’t you know any hot single guys who would pretend to be my boyfriend? He wouldn’t have to come until Christmas Eve when Gramma and GeeBee get there.”

For some reason, I hate the idea of her cozying up with a guy, even if it’s just a fake relationship.

“If you don’t do it, my Christmas will be ruined. Because GeeBee hinted she would introduce me to someone at Christmas if I didn’t bring Grant.”

She slumps in her seat, irritation written on her face.

I can empathize. My grandma and I can’t have a conversation that doesn’t include harassing me about “settling down with someone.” I love Nanna, but she makes me crazy.

“You and April and Joy don’t mind that the grannies matched you up, but it’s a hard no for me. I guess that makes me the odd sister.”

Wow. Her grandmothers made matches for three of her sisters? And now they’re going after her? Compared to that, dealing with my Nanna’s not-so-subtle nagging is a walk in the park.

“Even if GeeBee’s guy really was the perfect man, I don’t want to meet him. Not now, of all times. ”

She presses her palm against her forehead then shakes her head.

“I’ve already tried reasoning with the grannies. I told them both a thousand times, I’m happy being the fun, single aunt who brings candy and presents.”

Laughter lights up her face, stealing my breath away. She’s even more beautiful when she isn’t draped in sadness. “You’re kidding! You can’t possibly—”

“Hello, Syanne,” says a deep voice.

The woman’s crystal eyes widen like saucers as she cranes her head upward. “Grant! What are you doing here?”

I suck in air so fast I almost choke. The jerk himself is standing in front of her, in the flesh. Hasn’t he caused her enough pain for one day?

Something weird is going on with me. I’ve never hit anyone in my life, but my fingers curl into tight fists, my muscles shaking with the effort of holding myself back from pommeling this scumbag.

Meanwhile, a separate part of my brain is celebrating at discovering the beautiful redhead’s name. Syanne. It’s lovely and unique. It suits her.

“I’m flying to Colorado with you for the holidays, just like we planned.” Grant’s mouth curves into a sneer that someone ought to slap off his face. And I’m ready to volunteer.

A critical once-over shows me why Syanne was attracted to the guy. He’s got that outward charm, like a smarmy politician. He’s also got some impressive muscles that would have most women salivating.

But I could take him.

Why would I think such a thing? I’m acting like a protective boyfriend .

“Harmony, I’ll call you back.” Syanne tugs the AirPods from her ears and drops them inside her vast purse. Fidgeting, she gazes up with ruddy cheeks.

“There are some empty seats together over there,” Grant says, pointing to the gate on the opposite side.

“No thanks,” she says, not budging from her seat. “I’m quite comfortable. How did you get in here?”

“I bought another ticket, since you canceled mine.” Grant’s sneer widens, eerily similar to some mob boss in a movie. “I got the same seat—right beside you.”

Syanne folds her arms, but not before I notice her hands trembling. “I can’t stop you from flying to Colorado, but don’t expect to stay at St. Nick’s with me and my family.”

St. Nick’s? Blood rushes to my face. Of all the places in Colorado her family could be staying, what are the odds they would be booked at one of my resorts? She can’t be talking about the cabins, though—the extravagant rental price makes them exclusive. They must be at one of our hotel properties.

It’s all irrelevant. This woman is a stranger—we’ve never even met.

“Syanne, be reasonable,” he whines. “We can work through this. I’m sorry you’re upset.”

“You mean you’re sorry you got caught, right? Because you certainly aren’t sorry for what you did.”

You go girl! Tell him!

Grant smooths his hair. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

Out of proportion? She caught you in the act with your secretary! Steam builds pressure inside my head.

“I don’t date cheaters. End of story.” A quiver in her lip belies her defiant expression.

“Speaking of cheaters… where’s this new boyfriend of yo urs? The one who’s supposed to be flying to Colorado with you?” Grant lets out a rumbling chuckle as he paces in front of her, his voice loud enough to attract attention from our neighbors.

Her face flames. I edge my foot forward, hoping he’ll trip, but I only manage to drop my book on the floor. When I reach for it, Grant’s gaze falls on me.

“Is this him, sitting beside you?” Grant sniggers. “Or do you admit your story was a ploy to make me jealous?”

He throws his head back with a cackle of laughter. Someone should stuff a sock in his mouth. I’m tempted to rip mine off and do it myself.

“A ploy to make you jealous?” Syanne’s voice wobbles. “I couldn’t care less what you feel toward me. This morning only confirmed what I already knew—dating you was the biggest mistake of my life.”

“Come on, Syanne.” He reaches down toward her hand, wincing as she swats his fingers away. “Admit it. You still have feelings for me, or you wouldn’t have made up that story about meeting some new guy.”

Her mouth opens then closes, as tears spring to her eyes. Hasn’t he already humiliated her enough? Does he have to do it again in public?

“She didn’t make me up!” The words shoot out of my mouth before I realize I’m speaking.

When shock slackens Grant’s oily grin, cool satisfaction settles over me. I don’t regret what I’m doing. Not one little bit.

I loop my left arm around Syanne’s shoulders and stare up at the egotistical degenerate looming over us. Ignoring her stiff posture, I tug her against me and slide my lips across her hair, relishing the heady scent of sweet and spice. I’m not even surprised at how good she smells… exactly as I expected.

“That’s right.” I grit my teeth, spearing Grant with the cold glare I’ve perfected over numerous long and contentious board meetings. “I’m Syanne’s new boyfriend, Edward Cullen Nicholson.”

On impulse, I lean in to brush a kiss on her cheek. But at the last second, she turns her head.

Our lips meet.