Just Add Mistletoe: Christmas in Gingerbread, Colorado Page 18

  “It looks as if Santa was good to you both,” I tease as I rock back on my heels, still admiring how affable they both seem at the moment.

  “Better than good.” Tanner nods to Missy. “Thank you for saving Holiday Pies. Sabrina let me know it was you who worked to make those recipes.”

  She nods “It was my pleasure. Actually, it was my mother who spurred me on to get there. And, of course, I had a blast playing in the kitchen. It’s something you’ll never have to twist my arm to do. My favorite is the salted caramel apple pie, and the s’mores pumpkin. Graham came by this morning, and we baked one of each so the two of you can sample them if you like.” She gives a little shrug. “I hear the local stores are interested in perusing them. That’s great. I’m really happy for you, Tanner. All of you.” She looks to me with a glimmer in those periwinkle eyes.

  “Actually”—my brother takes in a deep breath, and I’m half-afraid he’s going to take us to some dark place by telling us that the stores changed their minds—“I got in touch with a buyer from a big box store. He said farm-to-table is really big, and he loves the fact we’re baking using our own fresh produce. They’re interested in meeting up with us.”

  “What?” I pull my brother in for a quick embrace. “That’s fantastic!”

  Tanner winces as if maybe it wasn’t. “You think you can come to the meeting with me? I can handle the small reps, but I can’t afford to goof this up.”

  “You bet. Just let me know when and I’ll be there. I plan on being around a lot more often.”

  Missy’s eyes widen at the prospect. I haven’t broken the news to her yet because it’s a part of the second Christmas gift I’m going to give her tonight. But it’s the third gift that I’m hoping will have her floating ten feet off the ground.

  Sabrina scoffs. “You can handle that meeting alone, Tanner.” She straightens the collar on his dress shirt, and Missy and I exchange a glance. “You’re the most confident man I’ve ever met. So what if you’re a little rough around the edges? Who isn’t? My favorite part about you is that you don’t put on airs.”

  “What’s going on?” Missy shakes her head at Sabrina. “Is this?” She points to the two of them. “Are you?” She leans in, unable to finish the question.

  “We are!” Sabrina wraps her arms around my brother, and if I didn’t know better, he looks rather happy about it. “It’s official. We’re dating!” She bounces on her heels as if she were on springs.

  “Dating.” I inch back and study my brother as he breaks out into a big old grin, and the sight of it warms me. “Congratulations, man.” I’d warn him about her, but I’m starting to get the feeling he’s dating a whole new Sabrina Jarrett. In the least, he’s well aware of what he’s getting himself into.

  “Wow,” Missy marvels, clearly stunned on her feet. “Ditto that. Huge congratulations. To many more—dates.” She shrugs, and the four of us share a laugh.

  Sabrina and Tanner excuse themselves as they head for the eggnog, and Missy steps in close to me.

  “I’m not sure whether I should apologize or reclaim my perfect track record? He is a Holiday, you know.” She lifts a shoulder my way, and I can’t help but think she’s adorable. I have always thought she was adorable, and the thought alone makes me smile.

  Joy Winters steps up with Holly. “What track record?” She looks to her younger daughter.

  Missy glances to my brother. “I knew I was setting up Sabrina Jarrett with a Holiday for life. It turns out, my matchmaking skills are still intact. My perfect record remains just that, perfect.” She and Holly share a high five.

  Mrs. Winters holds up a hand. “I believe it’s my record that remains perfectly intact.” She gives a sly wink my way. “I have had my fair share of perfect matches, too, you know.”

  “Like who?” Missy asks as if she didn’t have a lot of faith in what her mother was suggesting. It’s safe to say two women warring over the same track record can bring the tension to the party real quick.

  “Like you.” She flicks a finger between us while sipping her fruity green drink from a thin red straw. It’s mint jubilee. Mom makes it every year because it looks festive, and she calls it Holly-ade. “Don’t for a minute think I didn’t know who would be waiting for you at that realty office that afternoon.” She averts her eyes to the ceiling and gives a coy smile.

  “Mother!” both Missy and Holly chime at once.

  I can’t help but shed a laugh. “So, you had Missy meet with me that afternoon?”

  “I sure did.” She waves a proud finger in the air. “And I may have—”

  Noel bounds over, and Missy picks her right up. “Here’s my Christmas baby.”

  Mrs. Todd—Rose, Mayor Todd’s wife, pokes her head in our small circle for a moment. “Isn’t she the best?” She looks to Joy. “You really got the pick of the litter. She had the rest of those puppies sold in a week! You came just in the nick of time, or this little precious one would have had another home by now.” She gives a slight wave before melting back in the crowd.

  “Mother?” Holly takes a solid step away from her.

  But Missy leans in. “Explain yourself. Quickly.” Her tone is curt, and neither she nor Holly takes their eyes off her. To be honest, I can’t either.

  “What’s this about?” I reach over and land my hand over Noel’s warm back, and she nuzzles into me.

  “Oh, I don’t know”—Joy looks to the four corners of the room before zeroing in on us. “Okay, so my wheels might have started churning after you called and said you were coming into town.” She frowns at me. “I always thought you and Missy would end up together one day. The way you two bantered, it was only a matter of time. Why, you were an old married couple long before you even knew you were a couple.”

  Missy and I share a dull laugh.

  Holly huffs at her mother. “Get to the dog.”

  “Well”—she winces—“no sooner did we get off the phone than Rose called, letting me know her sister’s lab had a litter of puppies, and she wanted to know if I wanted to get one for Savanah.”

  “Oh, man!” Holly protests. “You mean Noel could have been mine?” She looks to Missy. “We are definitely sharing.”

  “Anyway”—Joy continues—“I couldn’t resist the idea of a puppy bringing the two of you together. And once I realized the only furnished home was next to yours, I drove over and waited until the two of you arrived, and, well—you know the rest.”

  Missy shakes her head in disbelief. “So that’s why no one called the shelter to report a perfectly healthy missing puppy.” She glares at her mother a moment before melting into a smile. “Thank you.” She leans against my shoulder. “You gave me two things that day that I will forever be grateful for.”

  “I concur.” I touch my head to Missy’s. “I guess you both have a perfect track record.”

  “Aw.” Holly breaks out into a spontaneous applause. “How about I take Noel and let Savy play with her a bit?” She takes our baby right out of Missy’s arms. “I think at this point in my life I like being an aunt to Noel. Tom and I already have our hands full.”

  Joy leans in and pinches my cheeks. “You’re welcome.” She gives a little wink before they both slip into the crowd.

  “Well, how do you like that?” Missy stares out at the tree, stunned. “My own mother pulled one over on me.”

  “And I’m glad about it, too.”

  She bumps her shoulder to mine. “Me, too.”

  I lean toward the window and wince. “What’s that sound I hear? Is that sleigh bells?”

  Missy laughs and swats me. “That was last night. I’m pretty sure the man in the red suit is sawing logs by now. Rumor has it, he hibernates for the rest of the winter.”

  “I’m betting that’s what you wish you could do after that rush you had that begun around Thanksgiving and ended last night.”

  “The bakery.” She nods, looking ever so sad when she says it.

  “And on that note, I think we should head out front to
see if Santa left us anything.” I take her by the hand as we thread through the crowd.

  “Graham Holiday, what are you up to?” She bubbles with laughter all the way to the front porch, down the stairs, and under the giant pine my parents have adorned with a million little twinkle lights.

  I pull a small red box from my left pocket and hand it to Missy.

  “Graham?” She tips her head to the side. “What’s this?”

  “Traditionally the giver doesn’t reveal the gift. It’s up to the receiver to open it.”

  “Okay, smart aleck.” She breaks out into an ear-to-ear grin as she quickly tears at the paper and opens the tiny box. “A key.” She looks up, momentarily confused. “Is this a key to your penthouse in New York?” Her voice hangs heavy in the air as if it were a tragedy in the making.

  “No. I promise you, what this opens is as far away from New York as I’d want to be.”

  “Well, you don’t have a house. Did I just get my very own key to the factory?”

  “Strike two. But I do believe there is a note inside with the address.”

  She peels the tiny paper from the bottom of the box and inspects it. “2218 Main Street?” she whispers as she scans the ground as if searching for answers. “Graham, that’s the address of the bakery.” Her mouth opens wide as she gasps for her next breath. “Graham, what does this mean?”

  “It means you don’t have to worry about Mr. Jarrett raising the rent on you. I bought the building. Everyone has a price. Thankfully, Mr. Jarrett’s wasn’t all that high. It’s true. After I left the tree lot, I went back to the community center and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. And in doing so, I closed my very first deal in Gingerbread.”

  “Oh my goodness, Graham!” she squeals as she wraps her arms around me for a moment before pulling back. “What do you mean, your first deal in Gingerbread?”

  “I mean, the first of many. I’m not leaving, Sprig. You’d better get used to me because I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Oh, Graham.” She grips me once again, this time with far more force. She pulls back, and her eyes dance with a playful glimmer. “I guess this makes you my new landlord.” Her teeth graze over her bottom lip. “I guess I’d better ply you with all the sweet treats you can eat so I don’t have another unexpected rent hike.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not your landlord, Missy. I’m giving you the building.”

  “What?”

  I reach into my right pocket and drop to one knee. “In fact, I’d like to give you something else.”

  Her hands cover her mouth in an instant as tears begin streaming from her eyes.

  “My grandmother left me one more thing. Her wedding ring. And tonight, I’d love to gift it to you. Mistletoe Winters, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  “YES!” she cries out with a primal scream.

  A roar of applause breaks out behind us, and we turn to find bodies spilling out of the doorway. Watching from a distance is everyone we know and love, Noel included. Nick nods over to me before giving us both a thumbs-up, and it feels official in every capacity. Missy and I are happening—we’re getting married.

  “Kiss her!” someone shouts, and I stand up and do just that.

  Missy and I kiss right there under the moonlight, in front of friends and family, and even Noel who scampers her way out and nips at the two of us. The crowd behind us breaks out into laughter, and another round of applause ensues.

  As messy as it all may have been—we’ve somehow managed to find our Christmas miracle and tie a nice neat bow on it in the end.

  Mistletoe Winters is mine, and I am hers.

  It is a merry Christmas indeed.

  And it will be a merry and bright happily ever after—I’ll make sure of it myself. Together, Missy and I have all the right ingredients.

  Epilogue

  Missy

  Three months later…

  The little white church tucked in the back of Gingerbread like an afterthought is most certainly on the forefront of everybody’s minds on this, the second Saturday of March. It’s certainly on my mind since I’ll be lost in wedded bliss in less than a few hours. Wedded bliss. My insides quiver as I think of all it entails. Today marks the start of a life with Graham Holiday as my husband, and I can’t help but lose myself in trying to memorize every last detail the moment has to offer.

  “Let’s get inside!” Holly screams as she bustles past me along with a small army of strangers my wedding planner hired to make sure this day goes off without a hitch.

  Graham wanted to hire a fancy wedding planner from New York who could make all of my wedding fantasies come true. But luckily, I stopped him before he could fly her out. It turns out that Mayor Todd’s wife, Rose, her sister Ruby—the very one that sold Noel to my mother is a renowned wedding planner from Denver. Ruby has been the biggest blessing of all. Once I told her I basically had zero wedding fantasies and have never created a Pinterest board that had anything to do with matrimony, she narrowed the themes down to a few choices: rustic, classic, and fairy tale. I chose a combination of all three, which only made her shake her head. I’m pretty sure I’ve inadvertently turned into her most difficult client yet and simultaneously the easiest going. I’ve basically said yes to whatever she’s suggested. I’ll be just as surprised by the details as our guests will be. I already have my every dream coming true. I’m marrying Graham Holiday.

  It’s been a whirlwind these last three months, what with him closing up shop in New York and moving back to Gingerbread lock, stock, and barrel. I went with him twice to close out his last few deals and hire movers to pack and pedal all of his rather expensive wares clear across the country. While we were there, we took in four shows on Broadway—something he says he never took the time to do, so it was virtually new to both of us. They were spectacular, and he’s officially dubbed me a theater buff, thus promising to bring me back once a year to keep up my new addiction. We ate at an Irish pub with the most delectable menu that I will never forget. Gingerbread needs an Irish Pub stat. The shepherd’s pie was to die for. And, of course, we had deep-dish pizza in Little Italy that blew our minds. We will never breathe a word of it to the owners of Angelino’s. And once we were back in Gingerbread, Graham put his things in storage and continued to rent the Spitzers’ place. He only has the rental until the end of the month because they are actually coming home for the spring and summer. But Graham won’t be needing their place after today because he’ll be moving in with me until we can build our dream house by the lake. Graham and I knew we wanted to live in Gingerbread, and as much as I love my tiny house, it’s just that, tiny. Plus, I love the thought of a fresh start. Graham and I designed every inch of our new home with an architect. Now if we could only fast-forward to the day we move in. Until then, Graham and I will be comfy cozy in my itty-bitty abode just as soon as we get back from our honeymoon. Honeymoon! I’m so excited about the quasi-requisite vacation that I almost forgot to bring my shoes to the church. Graham and I decided to spend an entire month in Hawaii basking in the warmth of the sun—or more to the point, the comfort of air conditioning while discovering all the interesting things to do behind closed quarters.

  Holly pokes her head out of the bright blue door, and her blonde hair blows in the wind. “Missy! Get in here! We’re short one bride!”

  “Coming!” I give a quick wave as she ducks back into the building. I give one final look around Gingerbread with its blue skies, the lake in the distance, snow still on the north facing side of the mountain, but the spring grass is here, along with fields of lavender, and mustard weeds with their pretty yellow sprays. If I stand on my tiptoes, I can see the evergreen on Main Street that’s decorated as the town tree each year. Then if I look left, I can almost see my own neighborhood. It’s the very spot where Graham and I shared our first blissful kiss. I look back at the church and take a deep breath. And that’s the very spot where Graham and I will share our first kiss as husband and wife. Tears come to my eyes,
and I do my best to blink them back. The world will be different—brand new again, once I step out of that church later this afternoon. It’s going to be better. Much, much better.

  I scuttle inside, careful not to slip on the gravel in the parking lot as I make my way to the beautiful church. As soon as I set foot inside, the floral scent of roses fills my senses. I blow past the foyer and peek my head into the sanctuary, and this time I buck with tears. I knew it would be beautiful, but this is beyond anything I could have asked for. Miles of pink old English roses and peonies are strung together like garland as they traipse up and down the pews, all the way down the aisle. A floral arch has been erected in front of the altar with a plethora of flowers draped over it, thick like a blanket. Ruby assured me a floral arch at an indoor event is all the rage back in New York and L.A., and being the amicable bride I am, of course, I agreed to it. But looking at it in person just blows my mind. I can’t imagine there are any flowers on the free market left to sell. They’re all right here in Gingerbread at my wedding.

  “Missy!” Holly runs out of the bridal room in a robe, pink sponge curlers in her hair, and one fake eyelash attached crooked to her lid. I can’t help but think she looks like she’s getting ready to go trick-or-treating. “I am going to leash you to the chair!” She scuttles us over to the open door on the side of the foyer and inside its beauty central. The makeup artist Ruby hired has fanned out all of her pastel goodies, and Savanah is knee-deep in brushes, her face glowing like a bright red light bulb.

  “Savy!” Holly shrieks and takes off to help remove the pink dust from her daughter’s face.

  “You must be the bride!” A tall, beautiful woman with makeup so thick it looks as if she applied it with a frosting knife plunks me in what looks like a massage chair and begins manhandling my face as if it were her own. “My name is Myrna. Just relax. I’m going to make you look like a doll!”

  And that’s what I’m afraid of.