Bride Under the Mistletoe: The Magic of a Family Christmas

Almost.

Small-town women weren’t any less sexual than those in the big city. They were simply more discreet, and he could be discreet.

“All set,” Wendy said and Cullen turned to see her standing behind Harry who grinned at him.

“I’m all set, too.”

“I found a story about a puppy in a puddle.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You mean a pig in a puddle.”

Laughing, Cullen walked to the bed. “Same thing.”

“No, it isn’t!” Harry looked horrified. “There’s a big difference between a pig and a puppy.”

Struggling with a smile, Wendy grabbed Harry’s doorknob as she left the room. “I’ll just leave you two alone for now.” She closed the door behind her.

Harry scrambled under his covers, took off his glasses and set them on the bedside table. Cullen sat on the bed.

Twenty minutes later, with Harry fast asleep and Cullen’s tongue about tied in a knot from all the rhyme and alliteration in the storybook he’d read, Cullen walked down the steps. He casually tossed his jacket over the coat tree in the foyer and walked into the living room where Wendy sat.

Now things would get interesting.

She looked up from the book she was reading. “How did it go?”

“He’s out like a light.” He casually walked to the sofa and sat beside her. Not so close as to appear inappropriate, not so far away that he wouldn’t accomplish his purpose.

“I think I should stay awhile, though, make sure he doesn’t have a nightmare and wake up.”

She set her book on the coffee table and reached for a round yellow pot. “Hot cocoa. Would you like a cup?”

“Sure.”

She poured some into one of the bright yellow mugs on the bamboo tray and handed it to him.

“Smells great.” But she smelled even better. The scent of her floated around him. He guessed it was shampoo. Every time she moved, her long red curls danced and shifted, sending the aroma of something light and floral swirling around him. All his hormones cheered. He’d absolutely made the right decision.

“It’s from scratch.”

“From scratch?”

“I made it myself. I boil cocoa, butter, sugar and vanilla until it makes syrup, then I add whole milk.”

He took a sip. “That’s really good.”

“I don’t make it often because it’s fattening and probably full of cholesterol.”

But tonight was a special night. Damn it. She didn’t even have to say the words. He got the message. Because he felt it too, the strange sense of being in the right place at the right time enveloped him. No matter how he tried to keep things purely sexual, something else hummed between them. And that “something else” wasn’t what he wanted out of life. He knew that “something else” let people down. He didn’t want to be let down the way his parents had been. He didn’t want to let Wendy down the way her husband had.

He leaped up off the sofa. “You know what? It’s getting late. Harry’ll probably be fine.” He headed for the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She rose from the sofa, gave him a confused smile. “Okay.”

Cullen didn’t say another word to her. He grabbed his jacket and ran from her house. Wendy dropped her head to her hands. She was such a klutz. A ditz. And the worst of it was, this time she had absolutely no idea what she’d done wrong.

She ambled to bed, miserable.

Friday morning, he barely spoke to her and he left for Miami before noon. Emma and Patty took an early lunch, and Wendy missed them, but she wasn’t ready to share anyway. She was growing a tad tired of looking like an idiot. Not just to Cullen, but to her friends.

Saturday morning, Emma and Patty surprised Wendy with an early-morning visit.

Motioning for them to enter her kitchen, she said, “What are you two doing here?”

Emma held up a box of doughnuts. “We’ve brought food.”

“So you’ll spill the beans,” Patty added as she shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the peg by the door.

Still not quite sure she was ready to talk, Wendy took the box of doughnuts to her kitchen table. “Spill what?”

Patty glanced around. “First of all, where’s Harry?”

“Watching cartoons.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, because now we can get into the juicy stuff.” Patty walked to the table. “I saw his car here Thursday night.”

Wendy frowned. “What were you doing out in this part of town?”

“Forgot my inhaler at work,” Patty said. “Had to call Wendell to let me in.”

“Oh.”

“So,” Emma prodded, sidling up to Wendy as she poured three mugs of coffee. “What happened?”

Wendy glanced over at Emma. “Nothing.”

“Oh, come on.” Patty sat on one of the chairs at the round kitchen table.

Handing Emma one of the mugs of coffee, Wendy said, “It’s true. He came to check on Harry, read him a story, took one sip of the hot cocoa I had made while he was reading and bolted.”

“Bolted?” Emma sat beside Patty. “Interesting choice of words.”

“Because it’s true. He ran as if his feet were on fire.”

Patty grinned at Emma. “Very interesting.”

“Very embarrassing. I’m guessing the cocoa sucked.”