Page 40 of 10 Things I Hate About Mistletoe

Pike grinned. “Victoria always hangs a few sprigs around the farm during the holidays, and I thought it might be useful.” His smiled dissolved and he watched her with earnest blue eyes. “What do you say?”

Maybe Delilah was avoiding Pike because she was fascinated with Anthony. Even though nothing would happen between Anthony and Delilah, kissing his best friend seemed skeezy.

Why are you worried about Anthony’s feelings when he laughed at you and didn’t even apologize?

The little voice in her head wasn’t wrong, and Delilah barely finished her nod before his mouth dropped to hers, the whiskers of his beard tickling the skin around her mouth and chin. He delved into her mouth with confident expertise, and it was evident from his skill level that he’d had all the practice needed to become a glorified sex-god.

Yet she silently evaluated his kiss like a sardonic judge on a competition show. There was no warm, fluttering sensation in her lower stomach as his lips moved over hers, no desire to draw him closer and lose herself in his touch.

Not the way she’d felt while kissing Anthony.

Delilah broke the kiss, pressing her lips together thoughtfully.

“You still not feeling it?” he murmured.

Before she could respond, the front door closed with a thwack. Delilah gasped in surprise, whirling around.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” Anthony’s deep voice said. Her gaze flicked to the man in question coming down the front porch steps. He stared straight ahead from beneath the brim of that ball cap, his jaw clenched, and her stomach dropped. How much had he seen and heard?

“You’ve got some timing there, bro,” Pike muttered.

“Like I said, carry on. It’s not my fault you picked the only exit to make a move.”

He passed by, and Delilah fought the urge to turn and watch him leave, especially since Pike’s eager blue-eyed gaze had returned to her face.

Delilah forced herself not to watch Anthony’s retreating back and focus on the man in front of her. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you were still not feeling it,” Pike said.

“I—” she cleared her throat when Anthony’s truck roared to life and heard the crunch of gravel under tires. “I’m sorry, Pike. I think we missed our boat.”

“Wow,” he said, his hand running through his hair like he hadn’t seen this coming. “I thought the mistletoe was charming.”

“It toed the line between charming and corny,” she said lightly, hoping to ease the sting of her rejection. “I think it would work wonders with the right girl.”

“But that’s not you, huh?” he asked.

“It’s not. I’m sorry.”

Pike shrugged. “Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?”

“Yeah.” Delilah stood awkwardly, trying to figure out the best way to make a graceful exit. Instead, Pike gave her an out as he took a step back with a small smile. “I’m gonna head inside and grab another slice for the road.”

“Good night, Pike.”

“You, too. Safe travel tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

Chapter Eleven

Anthony didn’t head straight home like he said. He took a detour into town, stopping by Mistletoe Market for a case of beer, a bottle of whiskey, and some easy fixings for Thanksgiving. Although he’d planned on stopping by the Winters’ for dinner, he wasn’t in the mood for company. Not after seeing Pike making out with Delilah on the sidewalk in front of their house.

He’d expected to see them talking, maybe flirting, but he’d had a perfect view of Delilah’s closed eyes and flushed cheeks imprinted on his brain like it had been seared there with a hot iron. They’d closed Adventures for Thursday, Friday, and Saturday so he could hole up in his trailer and avoid polite society until Monday. Hopefully, by then, he’d have some perspective.

He set a container of microwavable mashed potatoes in his cart next to his thirty-pack of Keystone and his bottle of Kessler. The market was quiet since it was half an hour before closing the night before a holiday, and Anthony was glad for it. All he needed was one of the older women in town to get a look at his cart and start praying for the lonely alcoholic Anthony Russo.

Anthony’s cell phone rang, and it was Pike. He debated sending it to voicemail, uninterested in listening to his best friend regale him with how he’d nailed down Delilah for a date, but it wasn’t Pike’s fault that Anthony was struggling with his vow of celibacy. Or that he coveted his best friend’s love interest.