A Mistletoe Proposal: Marry Me under the Mistletoe / A Little Bit of Holiday Magic / Christmas Magic in Heatherdale

Andrea didn’t have any wisdom. She was an empty vessel.

Let me know if you can make it, even if it’s only for one night. Remember when we talked about giving a party at the inn on Christmas Eve so Emily and Cole can renew their wedding vows? This would be the perfect time to formalize our plans. So see what you can do to get away.

Love ya, Casey.

Andrea closed the message and left the office to open the door to the shop. She glanced at the Advent calendar hanging on the wall, one of several dozen with chocolate tokens in each window. Luckily it was Wednesday—not the weekend, which was their busiest time.

The inn on Barrow’s Lake outside Barrow’s Cove, Massachusetts, was only an hour away from Providence. If she left after her mother came over, she could spend the night with Casey and drive home tomorrow in time to relieve her mom by afternoon.

She checked the weather app on her phone. No new storm systems right now. Though they’d had snow in the Northeast, most of the main roads had been plowed. It wouldn’t take any time to pack for one overnight.

Andrea had already decided which nutcrackers she would give her friends for Christmas. All she had to do was wrap them and take them with her. She could give them out at the party on Christmas Eve.

During her musings an elderly gentleman walked into the store. It activated some Christmas chimes. When he said he wanted to browse, she used that time to phone her mom. As soon as she told her about the email, her mom told her to go for several days if she wanted, accusing her of never taking a vacation.

Andrea loved her mother, but told her she needed only one night. In truth she didn’t like being away from the shop. It kept her going. Too much free time and she started to think about things that dragged her down to despair. None of that this year!

She got back on the computer and sent Casey a message that she was coming. Then she gift wrapped a smoker for her customer. After taking his credit card information, she handed him his package. That was when she saw a tall, striking male, maybe thirtyish, standing outside the window wearing a bomber jacket. He was carrying a blonde girl of five or six in his arms so she could see everything.

Loving the girl’s animation, Andrea walked over to the window to watch. The child was pointing at the gingerbread boy, her face and eyes beguiled by him. Closer now, Andrea could see she wore a pink parka with a hood lined in fur. It had fallen back to reveal her soft golden curls that fell to her shoulders.

Against the bright pink color, the man’s short cropped jet-black hair stood out. With brows the same color, he was darkly attractive. His lean chiseled jaw had that five-o’clock shadow that looked good only on a certain type of male.

When the little girl laughed at the antics of the drummer elf, the lines of his hard mouth broke into a half smile, causing Andrea’s breath to catch. She had the strongest suspicion he didn’t laugh often. Suddenly his gaze shifted to Andrea’s, as if he could read her mind and didn’t like it.

Completely embarrassed and shaken to be caught staring at him, she walked back to the counter. That was the first time anything like that had happened since Gunter’s death. There’d been plenty of attractive men coming in and out of the shop since her return from Germany, but they weren’t in this man’s class.

A second later she heard the chimes again before the charismatic man approached her. The girl walked at his side, clinging to his hand. With those light green eyes, they had to be father and daughter, although his were more hazel in color and a deeper hue.

“Good morning. May I help you?”

“I hope so,” Rick Jenner said to the blonde saleswoman. “Do you have a set of animated elves like the one in the window?”

“Right over here on this table.” She walked to it and picked up a box.

When she put it on the counter, his daughter stared at him with imploring eyes. “Will you ask her if I can hold the gingerbread man, Daddy?”

“No, Tessa. It’s too expensive.”

“What’s expensive?”

“It costs too much,” he said and pulled the credit card from his wallet to pay for the elves.

“I wish I could look at it.” Tears welled in her eyes. If he had a dollar for every time she wished she could have something...

The clerk ringing up the sale took one look at those eyes and said, “Stay right there and I’ll bring it to you.” After handing him back his card and purchase, she walked around the counter and hurried over to the display window to pluck the gingerbread man and rocking chair from the case.

Good grief. His daughter was a little manipulator, a talent she’d learned from his deceased wife, who’d been indulged in turn by her own well-meaning parents, especially her mother, Nancy. He’d loved his wife and they’d had a good marriage, but she’d been high maintenance, which had caused minor strains and at times a few major ones. Rick was determined his daughter would learn she couldn’t have everything she wanted.

When the clerk walked over to them, he became aware of her enticing fragrance, a light floral one. “If you’ll sit down, you can hold him.”

Rick wished she hadn’t gone to the trouble, but it was too late now.

“Oh—” Tessa crooned after taking it in her arms. His daughter’s happiness almost blinded him. “He’s so cute.” In a perfectly natural gesture, she kissed the cheeks just the way a mother would kiss her baby. Then she held it tight and with eyes closed started rocking.

The sight caused Rick’s throat to swell. He was in luck. Only the first day of shopping to get an idea of what Tessa wanted and already he knew this would be the present Santa left under the tree. When he got home, he would ask his housekeeper to come in and buy it for him so it could be a surprise.

“We have to leave now, Tessa. We’ve got more shopping to do before I take you to kindergarten. Thank the nice lady for letting you hold him.”

Tessa stared at the saleswoman. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He helped her off the chair and set the gingerbread man inside it.

Tessa’s lower lip trembled. “Can’t I have him, Daddy?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Please?”

“Tessa—that’s enough.”

“I’ll sell it to you at half price,” the woman said under her breath. He lifted his head and found himself gazing into the sapphire-blue eyes that had unexpectedly caught his attention through the display window.

“Thank you, but no.”

On cue his daughter broke into tears. The clerk bent over her. “Have you written to Santa Claus yet?”

“Yes. My grandma helped me, b-but I didn’t ask for the gingerbread man.” Her voice wobbled.

“I’m sure your father will help you write another letter and ask Santa to bring you a gingerbread man.” She flicked him a hopeful glance as she said it.

“This one?” Tessa pointed to the chair.

“Yes.”

Rick blinked. Yes? The clerk’s no doubt well-meaning intervention irritated the hell out of him. Worse, she’d played right into his daughter’s hands.

Tessa sniffed. “Do you think Santa will know that my gingerbread man is in this store?”

An impish smile broke the corner of the clerk’s mouth, drawing his unwilling attention to its provocative shape. “Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Come on, Tessa.” He picked up his daughter, who still wasn’t in control of her tears.