Page 32 of Snowed

THE TWELVE DATES OF CHRISTMAS

I somehow got roped into my matchmaker best friend’s holiday dating event, The Twelve Dates of Christmas. The only part I actually enjoyed was shamelessly flirting with her brother, who had a front-row seat to every disaster from behind his bar. Four-years-younger Tucker was infuriatingly hot and always off-limits. It turned out while I was looking for holiday sparks in all the wrong places, Tucker was the one lighting me up.

CHAPTER 1

Tucker

“What the heck is going on in here?” Lucy plopped her purse on top of the bar and slid onto a stool. “Was there a funeral across the street at Morrow and the attendees all came over here after or something?”

I chuckled and wiped down the counter in front of her. “No such luck. This is your buddy’s doing.”

“These people are here for Maggie?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

I reached behind the counter and grabbed the flyer my sister had sprung on me an hour before the crowd started to pile in tonight.

Lucy scanned it. “The Twelve Dates of Christmas? She’s doing one of her dating events here at The Rusty Nail?”

I shrugged. “Apparently so.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

I stopped wiping the counter and caught Lucy’s eyes. “What do you think?”

Her lip twitched. “Got it.” Lucy swiveled around to check out the suits that had taken over my little local bar.

Sleepy Hollow was a small town thirty miles outside of New York City, so luckily, we didn’t get these types in here too often. My regulars were mostly construction workers and firefighters—and I didn’t mind that one bit. I also didn’t mind our usual lack of decorations. But today, my sister had transformed the bar into a holiday explosion, covering every inch in lights, fake snow, and garland. The glittery tinsel dangling from the ceiling gave me a headache.

I lifted my chin when Lucy turned back. “You want your usual?”

“Yes, please.” She smiled, and my eyes lingered on her mouth for an extra heartbeat, the same way they had for the last decade. Lucy Snow had been my sister’s best friend since elementary school. I’d known her practically my whole life, but I’d first noticed her when I was eleven and she was fifteen. I’ll never forget the red, white, and blue bikini she wore the summer I was going into sixth grade. The top was red with white stars and the bottom was blue with stripes. I’d saluted her patriotism every time I peered out my bedroom window at the pool in our yard, though not with my hand.

I poured Lucy her usual, a glass of Amici sauvignon blanc, and returned to find my sister’s ass parked on the stool next to her friend.

“Isn’t this great?” Maggie beamed. “Look at all the business we’re getting.”

I frowned. “It’ll probably scare the locals away.”

“Or it might make them think there’s a reason to come in here. This place is usually dead on a Thursday night at six o’clock.”

“This place does just fine.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Can you make me an espresso martini, please?”

I squinted. “A what?”

“You’re a bartender. Clearly you’ve heard of an espresso martini before?”

“Of course I have. We just don’t make ’em here.”

“Who says?”

“I just did. You got shit in your ears?”

“I’ve decided to have a signature drink for each night of the Twelve Dates of Christmas. Tomorrow is going to be espresso martini night, and I want to make sure your mixology skills are up to par.”