The Mistletoe Affair

Seven right on the dot. Jared parked his Lexus in front of Grace's house. He grabbed the pie from the passenger's seat, walked to the entrance, and rang the doorbell.

“Coming,” Katherine shouted as the door swung open. Off-key voices sung the refrains of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” as the stereo played softly in the background. Laughter and snippets of conversations drifted out into a magical night adorned with blinking candy-cane lights.

His heart sputtered an extra beat.

“Hi. Come on in,” she said with a cheerful smile. She reached and grabbed the dessert from his hands. “If it's something chocolate, I've got first dibs on it-two servings.'

He forgot to breathe.

Her long dangling snowflake earrings flashed, drawing his undivided attention to her lush red mouth. He loved red-in any shade-especially her fire engine, hot red lips. “It's a pie,” he croaked. He came to his senses and found her hand on his elbow steering him into the house.

“I think you know everyone,” she said, pointing to the sea of neighbors. A few people turned and shouted, waving hello. Some raised glasses and whistled between their teeth to get his attention. He reciprocated the cheerful greetings with a slightly distracted smile and wave, still disconcerted by his first glimpse of Katherine tonight. She was absolutely stunning, glowing with Christmas cheer, and practically irresistible.

This thought returned his attention to the moment and he scanned the crowd, searching the faces, but he didn't see lover-boy, Paul. Good. He did see Grace, who winked at him, or maybe at Katherine, who still stood beside him, hand extended to take his coat. Smiling down at her, he began shrugging out of it. He turned and winked back at Grace. Thomas stood beside her, a miserable look on his face.

About the time his gaze traversed the faces again, he noticed Grace streak from the room like vapor.

Katherine touched him on the arm and he looked into a teasing jade pool. “You trying for a new fashion statement? I've heard of one shoe on and one shoe off, but never one sleeve.'

He glanced down and stood half-in, half-out of his coat. One side dragged the floor. “Think it'll catch on?” he asked, arching a brow and removing the other side. “Just show me where to put it. I wouldn't want you to drop my pie.'

Turning, she crooked her little finger and motioned. “Follow me into the bedroom.'

Bedroom! Taking a steadying breath, he clutched the coat and trudged along behind her. He willed the rising heat to recede as her hips swayed in front of him.

From the bedroom doorway, he tossed his coat on the pile before he and Katherine turned to thread their way to the buffet table.

She removed his chocolate delight and shoved the empty box under the table. The pie wound up in the middle of dessert heaven. It's a wonder the table didn't buckle from the calories in that section alone, he thought. “You expecting a famine?'

She chuckled. “If it comes, we're certainly prepared.” Her eyes glanced his way. “I like your shirt and Santa tie. You look good in that deep shade of green.'

He reached out and flicked one of her snowflake earrings. “As long as we're throwing compliments around, your outfit's pretty spectacular. You look tempting as sin in red.'

“You gotta watch out about sin,” Reverend Whittaker remarked with a wink and a smile as he walked by.

Color crept up Katherine's neck until her face matched her sweater. She punched him in the ribs. “I swear, I can't take you anywhere in public.'

He moved closer, smiling as her eyes widened, all dewy and innocent. “I'm at my best when I'm not in public.'

Not missing a heartbeat, she shook her head and slid her hand through the crook of his arm. With her best Texas drawl, she said, “We'll have to work on your manners,” and escorted him from the dining room to the living room.

He chuckled. “I'm willing.'

Every nook and corner held boxes of decorations for the tree. He envied Katherine, growing up surrounded with all these family traditions and so much love. She stayed close to his side and made him feel right at home.

“I like the fireplace.” He pointed to a wreath hanging on the wall. Directly below that, trains and lighted Swiss chalets nestled in cotton matting on the mantel. Poinsettias rimmed the outer border of the white marble floor. The scent of oak filled the room from a wood fire burning behind a mesh screen.

“I hope you don't mind, but I promised the kids you'd help them make strings for the tree,” she said, releasing his arm and angling him a sideways glance. She was smiling.

He dragged his gaze from the crimson curve of her lips. “Strings?'

She laughed. “You'll see.” Taking his arm again, she led him up the stairs and into a large carpeted game room. Card tables containing bowls of popcorn and fresh cranberries lined the floor. Seven noisy boys and girls inhabited various chairs around the tables.

Matt looked up from the cluster of chattering children. Seeing them, a grin stretched out from ear to ear. His hand shot up, waving wildly. “Mr. Randall! I saved you a place.” He patted the empty chair beside him. Glancing over at his mother with a tolerant smile, he tried to allay her concern by saying, “Don't worry, Mom. I'll show him what to do.'

Jared sat down amid the circle of bright-eyed children and warily picked up a large, rounded needle with a long trailing length of string. He cast an even more wary glance at the eager faces staring back at him. What was he supposed to do?

Matt was as good as his word, although Jared never would have dreamed it. Within five seconds, he was threading popcorn and cranberries onto strings like an old hand.

“There are baby wipes on the table in case you need them,” Katherine said behind him. Turning toward her, she pointed to an innocent-looking powder blue box sitting three feet away. His smile fled. Baby wipes! What had he gotten himself into?

“If you want, we can make a paper chain, too.” Matt pointed to a stash of red and green construction paper, and other supplies. Jared looked at the pile. Last time he made a paper chain, he was in second grade.

She placed her hand on his shoulder. The light touch made his blood surge through his veins. “I've got to go, Counselor. I promise not to leave you upstairs all night.” She leaned and whispered, her breath lightly stirring the hair on his head, “I'd like to talk to you about something personal later on.'

He stabbed his palm with the needle and fought an ‘Ouch'. Staring at his thick fingers, he fumbled for the delicate berries and slender string. “Fine.'

Get a grip, or you'll embarrass yourself.

“I've got to run help Mom play hostess. Think you can manage to hold the fort down here?'

“I'll help him,” Matt said.

Jared grabbed the five mandatory popcorn kernels to two cranberries and waved them at her. “I'm in good hands.” When he craned his neck around to look at her, she moistened her lips with her tongue. He let out a pent up breath. “Go do your hostess thing.'

She turned on the soles of her heels and strolled seductively across the carpet. Her hips kept rhythm to “Jingle Bell Rock” as she moved toward the stairs. His appreciative gaze followed Katherine.

Where's a cold shower when you need one? Man, and I'm here with the tiny tikes, better get a grip on things or have to explain the tent in his lap.

Matt touched his arm and handed him a cranberry. “You still think my mom's beautiful?'

“Yes.'

“I told her you did.” Matt beamed.

Jared squashed the cranberry between his fingers and reached for the baby wipes.

Twenty minutes later, each table proudly held two cranberry and popcorn chains and one paper chain with glow-in-the-dark stickers ready for hanging. Jared had used one entire box of baby wipes and managed to keep all ten fingers of each child free of stains. Keeping everyone from eating all the popcorn had turned into a first class battle, but he'd succeeded.

He looked up just as Katherine stuck her head around the corner. She gave him an innocent smile and walked toward him. Her sweater hugged her sweet body. The sleigh applique moved when her breasts bounced ever so slightly. He rubbed the back of his neck.

Where's a bucket of ice when you need one?