Just Add Mistletoe: Christmas in Gingerbread, Colorado Page 3

“We’ll be looking at the one on the end.” I point over at the Spitzers’ place.

  Graham grunts with a nod before slowing down and inspecting my own home as if it were suddenly an option. “So, this is your house?” He gives an open-mouthed smile as we drive past my sturdy clapboard home, with its bright red door and oversized green wreath decorating the front of it.

  “That’s where I call home. I was able to save up enough for a down payment last year. Just moved in back in July, but I pretty much have everything the way I want it.” I motion for him to park in the next driveway, and he does. “I’ve got the lockbox combo, so I can show you the inside. Dave and Marlene have been in Florida for the last few months, and this place has just sat empty. They’ve become Gingerbread’s official snowbirds, leaving at the first sight of a cool breeze. They’ve pretty much retired and are living out all their white sandy beach fantasies.”

  Graham takes a deep breath as he inspects the place, and we both get out and take in the fresh Gingerbread air. “So, what are you fantasizing about, Sprig? You still hiding that Barbie collection in a shoebox under your bed?”

  My face heats ten shades of crimson as my body prickles with embarrassment. “I’ll have you know those dolls are now considered collectors’ items, and the only reason they’re under my bed is to keep them safe from roving perverts who are thinking about renting the place next door.” I take a step into him, and his stark good looks, that midnight black hair, those eyes that look as if they’re trying to show the sky up with their color—Graham Holiday’s good looks are only magnified with the vast backdrop of snow on the ground. “I bet you’re still hiding that Hot Wheels collection in an oversized tire that doubles as a briefcase?” All of the memories of that cute little carryall come flooding back, and I can still smell the sweetness the plastic emitted.

  A hearty laugh rumbles from him. I can’t help but note the tiny laugh lines around his eyes, and suddenly my insides melt at the sight. Graham isn’t the young boy I used to know and detest so much. He’s grown into a man in every capacity. And judging by his fast-paced life, he’s outgrown Gingerbread by a New York mile. I’m just some backwoods small-town girl to someone like him. Besides, he’ll forever see me as Nick Winters’ little sister, the girl who braided her Barbie’s hair far longer than she ever should have.

  “Hot Wheels, huh? Okay—I might have a Hot Wheels or two in the attic at my parents’ house. Just let me know when your Barbies want to get together with my Hot Wheels. It’s a date.”

  An incredulous laugh huffs from me. “Please—I wouldn’t date you if you were the last person on earth. I refuse to date people who tugged my hair as if it were a sport. And FYI, I still have a bald spot behind my ear to this day.”

  His brows bounce in that obnoxious way that lets me know he thinks he’s got the upper hand. “What’s the matter, Sprig? You still think boys are icky?” He chuckles at his own little dig.

  “Ugh! Would you please stop calling me that? You do realize I detest that nickname.” Sprig is a play on Mistletoe. My formal moniker had been the butt of a few too many jokes when I was in elementary school, so I quickly convinced the entire town to call me Missy. “In fact, I banish you from ever uttering it again. We’re grown-ups now, remember? And if you must know, I don’t think all boys are icky. Just the one standing in front of me.” I lean down and scoop a handful of snow before pelting him with it square in the face. And then I do the only grown-up thing I can think of—run gleefully screaming into the backyard. Dave and Marlene Spitzer’s property is parceled off in every direction by a small wooden fence that surrounds the property. It’s the last house on the cul-de-sac and butts up to the woods at the edge of town. The thicket behind our homes is the exact reason why I chose this area. I love how quiet and secluded it is. Holly thinks it’s spooky up here at night, but I’ve always appreciated the solitude. I guess that’s the one and only thing Graham and I have in common.

  “You can run, but you can’t hide!” he booms as he comes up from behind, and an icy explosion detonates over my back with a thud. He always did have a killer curveball.

  Something small and yellow leaps from the crepe myrtle behind a pile of snow, and my feet stop in their tracks as I let out a blood-curdling scream.

  “Geez!” Graham runs up panting. “Come on, Sprig. It couldn’t have hurt that bad.” His eyes are rife with worry as he inspects me for injuries. But before I can spear him with another pointed barb from my tongue, that furry creature does another hop and a leap back behind the crepe myrtle, and this time I all but jump into Graham Holiday’s arms as I let out another primal scream. I can tolerate a lot of things, but hairy scary creatures that are practically airborne are not one of them. “Hang on.” He picks up a stick and heads to a nearby bush, gently rustling its branches.

  A yelp comes from the fence line and then a whimpering cry that sounds anything but hairy scary. In fact, it sounds downright cute.

  “Oh my God!” I cry as I struggle to hold myself. “It’s gone rabid! It’s going to eat us! I’m going to lose a limb to that thing!”

  Graham pauses from his pursuit to track it down and frowns over at me. “Are you always this brave, sweetheart?”

  “Always. And you can drop the sweetheart. Your sweet talking superpowers are faulty with me.”

  “That’s right. I’m icky.” He treads in toward the whimpers and heads around the tree, out of my line of vision. “Well, look what we have here.” It takes a moment before he emerges, and I gasp at the sight of the cuddly little creature he’s holding in his arms. The cutest little blonde puppy in the whole wide world.

  “You found a baby!” I squeal as I tiptoe my way over—my go-to move for all things fearful.

  “I found a yellow lab is what I found.” He gives a gentle scratch behind its ears. “It’s a cute girl. They can’t stop following me around.” He gives a playful wink, and I can’t help but groan.

  “Give her to me.” I’m quick to pull the bundle of joy my way, and I can’t help but notice she’s shivering. “She’s freezing! Who knows how long she’s been out here.”

  “Looks like Dave and Marlene left someone behind.”

  “No way. They’re cat people, and they took Felix with them. I bet you she got in through that hole in the fence.” I nod at the opening near the woods. “We’d better get this baby to a vet. I bet there’s a family out there who is missing her like crazy.”

  “I bet you’re right.”

  We head for the driveway, and my mouth falls open. “The house!” After the icy, yet strangely satisfying snowball fight, after discovering the most adorable puppy ever—I almost completely forgot our true intentions. “I could show it real quick if you like?”

  “Nope. I’ll take it sight unseen. There’s a puppy who needs to see a doctor more than I need to see the inside of that place. Besides, I’ve seen my fair share of bedrooms.” That greasy grin of his slides up his face as if he were trying to goad me.

  “I’m sure you have. And I’m sure you’re gunning to see a lot more.”

  “You’ve already turned me down.”

  “Please. Gingerbread is rife with wanton women, and some of them even have egos that match yours.” I shed a wide smile because, let’s face it, he practically walked into that one. Graham Holiday has an ego the size of the Rocky Mountains. Way back when we were still in school, his ego was so big it needed its own picture in the yearbook.

  His brows furrow as if I’ve sawed on his very last nerve, and then just like that, his affect brightens. “Please tell me you know these wanton women and where can I find them.”

  Sabrina Jarrett comes to mind with her equally obnoxious ego and self-serving line of banter. My God, it’s a match made in pompous heaven.

  “You know, come to think of it—I think I do.”

  Sabrina Jarrett and Graham Holiday deserve one another. I bet sparks would fly just as easily as egos would implode. They’d drive one another bonkers just vying for a spot in the mirror each morni
ng. Sabrina is a spoiled brat who always gets her way, and Graham is an obnoxious playboy who is used to having his ego stroked nightly. She would kill him with her vanity, and he would smother her with his narcissistic ways.

  Yes. I think I just found Gingerbread’s next it couple, and it will be a farce that I will not want to miss. I can’t wait to light the fuse and watch the dating dynamite explode right in their faces. Once Sabrina has infiltrated his world, I’m betting Graham won’t be able to escape this town fast enough.

  We climb back into his truck, and I snuggle in with the sweet little puppy as Graham speeds us off to the vet.

  I’m going to sic Sabrina Jarrett on Graham asap.

  Joy to the world.

  Revenge has come.

  It’s going to be a holly jolly holiday after all.

  Graham

  The Gingerbread Vet and Animal Clinic takes us right in as Missy and I wait in a claustrophobic glorified closet for the doctor to arrive.

  Missy cradles the playful puppy in her arms as if she were a baby, singing lullabies to her, cooing in her ear, and dotting her fuzzy little forehead with kisses. But it’s not the puppy who keeps stealing my attention. It’s Missy. I can’t get over how grown-up she looks, how striking her features are, and that long milky white hair, those creamy curls, not to mention those dreamy curves. I take a quick breath and step back a moment. Should I be looking at Missy this way? As much as my brain wants to tell me it’s wrong, other parts of my anatomy are screaming it’s right. Honestly, I’ve been just about everywhere, seen all types of girls, and Mistletoe Winters is…

  “Just beautiful,” I whisper.

  Missy looks up with those watery lilac eyes. I have never seen another human with those eyes outside of the Winters women.

  “She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Her features soften as she looks to me with a touch of grief. “I don’t think I can part with her if I wanted.”

  I offer up a quick scratch to the top of the cute pup’s head. “I don’t think I can either.”

  The door glides open, ushering in a cool breeze right along with the doctor. “What have we got here?” A slender gentleman with a goatee and glasses breaks out into a grin as soon as he spots Missy with that puppy. “Quite a family you’ve got.” He offers up a wink my way.

  Missy gasps a moment. “Oh, actually, we’re not a family. We’re not even dating. In fact, when it comes right down to it, we can hardly stand one another.” She gives a playful wink my way, but I know she’s only partially kidding. It’s true. Nick and I may have razzed her a little too much over the years, but unlike Holly, Missy always seemed to appreciate the ribbing a bit more. She yelped the loudest, protested far more violently than her sister. In a nutshell, she made it worth the effort, and just the thought brings a twisted smile to my face. It was all in good fun, though, and it sure did sponsor some great memories.

  “She’s right. We’re not dating,” I add. “We found the puppy in the back of a home I’m renting.”

  He tips his head, perplexed a moment. “Dr. Clemson.” He shakes both our hands. “I’m new in town, and it’s been a pleasure getting to know my neighbors.”

  “Missy Winters.” Her eyes brighten, and my insides heat at the sight of them. I don’t remember them being so brilliant in color, so darn stunning to look at. “Welcome to Gingerbread. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” She’s quick to greet him. “This is Graham Holiday—who is ironically on holiday. He turned in his zip code years ago when he officially gave Gingerbread the boot from his life. He’s visiting from New York.”

  “Nice.” He looks my way with an easy smile. “I have a sister in Manhattan.”

  Missy sputters a tiny laugh, and I know where her dirty mind just went.

  “So, the puppy.” I’m quick to change the subject in fear Missy’s misguided mind might be right. I haven’t exactly been holing away in my apartment each night. “How do we go about reuniting it with its rightful owner?”

  He takes the tiny bundle of wiggling joy from Missy and performs a quick, routine exam. “She’s not chipped, so there’s no telling who she belongs to. And we haven’t received a single call about a missing puppy. They usually check with the shelter first. I think I’ll have my secretary call over. In fact, I’ll do just that. Why don’t you wait a moment and I’ll be right back.” He takes off, and Missy scoops the antsy puppy right back into her arms.

  “She’s shaking!” Missy belts it out as if she just witnessed a beating. “She’s completely afraid of that mean old doctor.” Her voice reduces to that of a three-year-old.

  I can’t help but dole out a quiet laugh. “He was plenty nice. And maybe you’d better gird yourself for the fact her owner might come a knockin’.” My heart breaks for Missy because I can tell she’s already too attached.

  The puppy looks up at me with a yelp and practically jumps into my arms.

  “Whoa, girl!” I pull up, and she washes my face with her slobbering tongue. “Nothing like wet, sloppy kisses.” I pull back with a laugh.

  “Bet she’s making you feel right at home.” Missy doesn’t miss a beat with that one.

  I choose to ignore her comeback for a moment and look right into this squirmy pup’s dark, soulful eyes. “If she doesn’t have a home, I’m keeping her.”

  “You can’t keep her.” Missy jumps up and warms her body to the tiny beast as if she was a fire. “She’s coming home with me.”

  The door opens again, and Dr. Clemson holds out his hands, exasperated. “Looks as if no one’s come forth to claim her.”

  Missy sucks in a quick breath, and I can practically see the color piquing in her cheeks the way it usually does when she’s excited.

  Dr. Clemson looks over the file in his hands. “The shelter is full. Unfortunately, we’ll have to ship her to Denver. That’s her best hope of adoption if her family doesn’t come forth.”

  “You can’t send her to Denver.” Missy takes the puppy right back and shields her from the both of us. “She’ll tremble all the way there. No way, no how. She’s coming home with me.”

  I wince at the thought of this poor thing getting trucked all the way to Denver myself. “How long does her family have to claim her?”

  “Well”—the good doctor starts while shaking his head—“there is no real time limit we put on these things, but seeing that she’s so healthy and is right where we’d like to see her on the weight scale, I’d say she was well cared for right up until this afternoon.”

  Missy gives an incredulous huff. “If she was so well cared for, someone would have noticed she was missing by now.”

  “Or they’re at work,” I offer, trying to burst her bubble slowly. If the real owner does come by to claim the puppy, he or she is going to have a real fight on their hands.

  “I’ll keep the puppy.” Missy manufactures a stale smile for the doctor.

  “Very well. I’d much rather she stay in a loving home, myself. I’ll have the secretary draw up the paperwork, and we’ll get your information before you go.” He takes off, and Missy squeals as if she just won a prize at the carnival.

  “Looks like I just got a brand new puppy!”

  “No way,” I tease as I scoop the exuberant pup back up. “Finders keepers. Besides, she was technically on my property.”

  “Like you’ve signed a single paper.” She frowns for a moment, but that gorgeous smile blossoms right back.

  “Okay, we’ll co-parent the dog,” I offer. “And when it’s time for me to leave, we’ll see who she likes best. It’s only fair.” I can’t help but give a greasy grin. I’ve practically built my childhood around teasing Missy. I don’t see why the fun should stop now.

  “Fair enough.” She shrugs. “You can have her while I’m at the bakery. And once you take off for New York, I’ll find someone else to sit with her while I’m away.” She coos into those big brown eyes. “Isn’t that right, Snowflake?”

  “Snowflake?” I pull her back. “No way. She’s cool, but she’s no Snowflake.
How about Sport?”

  Missy swats me over the hand. “She’s a girl, in the event you weren’t paying attention. It’s not feminine enough for her. Besides, she’s too pretty for that name. She needs something cheery, something that goes with the season. I don’t know, something sweet.” Her eyes gravitate to a wreath over the back of the door with the word Noel written across it in bright red glitter.

  “Noel!” we shout in unison, each trying to beat the other to the punch.

  A laugh gets caught in her throat as she hooks those magical eyes of hers my way. “I guess it’s settled then. Noel it is.”

  “Noel,” I repeat as I give the puppy a quick scratch behind the ears. “You have the best name. And you also happen to have the best daddy.”

  “Ha!” Missy shakes out her curls as she lands a kiss just above the puppy’s nose. “Don’t you listen to him. You have the best mommy is what you have.”

  “I guess that makes us a family after all,” I’m quick to point out.

  Her eyes flit to the ceiling. “More like a dysfunctional family.”

  “Noel Holiday.” I rock the playful pup in my arms, and it feels nice. It feels right.

  Missy is quick to snatch her from me again. “Noel Winters.” She glances my way with that devil-may-care grin blooming on her face. “I think I’ll take the rest of the day off and pick up some supplies before we head home.” We head out into the reception area, and I start in on the paperwork.

  “It looks like Santa came early this year for me,” Missy bubbles, and the receptionist chortles right along with her.

  “You must have been an awfully good girl,” the receptionist chimes.

  “You got the awful part right.” I couldn’t help it. Missy and I have always walked the line of sanity in our relationship. Did I just say relationship?

  “Oh, stop.” Missy bumps me with her hip. “I’ve been a very good girl.” Those violet eyes hook to mine with an all too familiar look that suggests she’s up to something.

  Missy might have been a good girl, but something tells me she’ll be stepping down from her pedestal long enough to give me heck. And I’m not so sure I mind.