When she puts it that way ...
“Fine, I’ll do it. But when this proves me right, you have to admit I was correct all along and give me free cookies from the bakery for the rest of my life.”
“I can arrange that.”
However, it seems too sweet, too good to be true. What if I’ve been wrong all along?
CHAPTER 3
FLETCH
It’s beenthree days and even though I can still feel her velvety lips on mine. I still cannot believe that Bree Darling kissed me under the mistletoe.
I’m close to breaking a sweat, even in the unheated Cobbiton Community Center. The mayor said it’s to save on heating and electrical expenses so those funds can go toward advertising for the Christmas pageant. Apparently, the previous activities leader was caught misappropriating funds.
Half-built sets, hockey teammates, and volunteers surround me, but all I can think about is that kiss.
“Christmas is calling. Where is Fletch? Are you planning on hammering that nail or just staring at it all afternoon?” Mikey tosses a balled-up piece of construction paper at my head.
“Sorry,” I mutter, refocusing on the stable wall I’m supposed to be securing.
My mind keeps drifting back to those hazel eyes—more green than brown—when she realized who I was. The way her messy bun had a few strands escaping around her face, just likein college when I’d visited her at the newspaper office. Or, as she claimed, to pester her.
Her melted chocolate and warm Christmas candles scent gives me a sugar rush.
“He’s been like this for days,” Hudson announces to the group when we move onto set painting.
Pierre adds, “Ever since he ran into some girl from college.”
Before I can stop myself, I say, “Not just some girl. Bree Darling. She wrote for the school paper.”
“Did I hear someone say Bree Darling?” A woman with straight blonde hair perks up from where she’s reviewing ‘Encorn’ skit script pages—so named because Cobbiton loves corn almost as much as its residents love shouting “Encore!”
Heat creeps up my neck when I spot Bree’s friend, and my neighbor, on Sweet Corn Court. The same one who stood behind her while suppressing laughter after the mistletoe kiss.
“We knew each other at Iowa State. She interviewed me once for the paper.”
Nina’s lips quiver with a self-satisfied grin. “Oh, I know all about that.”
“Apparently, she made quite an impression because I’ve never seen him this distracted,” Grady chimes in, abandoning his paint roller.
“I’m not distracted. I’m focused on getting this set perfect for the pageant.”
“You’re not restoring one of Da Vinci’s masterpieces. Slap the paint on the prop.” Mikey gives me bug eyes as if to ask,What gives?
“Says the guy who used to work for a contracting company.”
“It was the family biz,” Mikey retorts.
“I take pride in my work. I’m not going to just ‘slap the paint on.’”
Nina studies me with a knowing smile that makes me uncomfortable. “Bree is staying with me for a few weeks. Her roof is leaking.”
Aiming for casual, I ask, “Is she still working in journalism?”
“Romance novels,” Nina says simply.
The guys have a good laugh.
