Page 81 of 10 Things I Hate About Mistletoe

Ryler laughed. “No, I just call it like I see it. And I’m trying this new thing where I don’t hold back. Everything I think, I’m saying it.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“Maybe, but I’ve spent a lot of time keeping everything close to the breast, afraid of offending someone or embarrassing others. I’ve finally decided I don’t give a shit. If someone doesn’t like me, warts and all, I’m fine on my own,” Ryler said, shrugging.

“Damn, girl. I need that energy in my life.” Delilah grinned, waving her cup around the room. “I got persuaded to play hostess at the last minute when I really wanted to escape into my room.”

“Hey, if you want to do that, I’ll totally cover for you.” Ryler wrinkled her brow. “Oh, you’re looking for Delilah? I think she’s in the kitchen. Not there? Oh, you know what, I think she had to pee.”

“You’re good.”

“That’s why Alia keeps me around. I’m the best.”

A steady rise of male voices registered and Delilah looked around the room. “Do you hear that?”

“What am I hearing?”

“It sounds like singing.”

Ryler frowned, standing perfectly still.

Suddenly, there was a pounding at the door.

“Delilah!”

She covered her mouth with her hand at Anthony’s bellow. The entire house of women quieted, gathering in the dining room doorway to watch.

“I think that’s for you,” Ryler said.

Delilah crossed the room to answer the door. Holly joined her, whispering, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” Delilah opened the door and stared at the group of men standing in her yard. Anthony was front and center, looking sheepish.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed at them.

“We have come courtin’,” Pike said.

“No, we’re not,” Sam said.

Delilah grabbed her coat from the hook and stepped onto the porch, wrapping her arms around herself as the cold hit her. “Again, why are you all gathered on my lawn?”

“I’m getting to that,” Anthony said, clearing his throat. “Nick?”

Nick held his phone up, and the first notes of “Hey There Delilah” sounded and suddenly, Anthony was singing at the top of his lungs, the men behind him humming along with him.

“Oh, it’s what you do to me!” Anthony belted. He wasn’t bad, but he was slightly offbeat, and obviously a little drunk.

“Oh my God,” Holly said behind her. Delilah realized all the women were filing out onto the porch or watching from the window as he serenaded her.

He threw his hands out to his side as he sang, “And you’re to blame!”

Delilah fought a smile as the men chorused, “Oooooooh,” but her gaze remained on the disheveled man who hadn’t looked away from her once. Her neighbors had all stepped out into their yards to watch, some of them laughing. Others shaking their heads.

The song ended and Delilah didn’t move as Anthony took a few steps toward her, grinning.

“Aren’t carolers supposed to sing Christmas songs?” she asked.

“Not when they’re trying to win back their girl.”