Mistletoe Hero

Lilah’s smile flickered nervously, but she nodded. “Change can keep things fresh.”

“What if instead of a whole bunch of people individually baking cakes, we banded together? I saw this news piece on a middle school attempting to make the world’s largest cupcake and there was mention of a Canadian slab of fudge that was over two tons. Wouldn’t it be neat if Mistletoe could set one of those records for the biggest cake?”

Two tons of fudge? Just how much cake was Dele proposing? The silence in the cafeteria got very loud, emphasized by a single derisive titter in the back. One of the Hunakers, no doubt.

“Well,” Lilah began. “That certainly is an ambitious idea! But I doubt we could get all the logistics squared away in only two weeks. Would you mind if I write this in our notes as something to discuss for future years?”

Dele beamed. “I think that’d be just fine, Lilah. Thank you.”

It wasn’t until Quinn began differentiating between the booths that they hoped would break even financially, those there for fun despite not being moneymakers, versus the ones they actually expected to profit on that Dele’s hand shot back up again.

“I had a fundraiser idea,” Dele said proudly. “A couple of years ago, during the July Fourth celebration, officials like the mayor and principal agreed to sit in a dunk tank. Citizens lined up to pay for a chance to soak them!”

Lilah and Quinn exchanged glances. As Dele’s ideas went, this one was completely sane.

“Sounds terrific,” Lilah said, “with the possible exception of the weather. I’m not sure it would be warm enough-”

“Oh, I don’t think we should dunk them!” Dele interjected. “I think we should make them walk the plank. As part of our costume competition, we already have a best pirate category, so it just makes sense! Think about our students in their best buccaneer garb, paying for a chance to march their favorite-or least favorite-teachers off a plank at swordpoint.”

“I’m sorry, did you say off a plank?” Cici Hunaker echoed incredulously.

Dele spun around, nodding eagerly over her shoulder. “Sounds like fun, dontcha think?”

“And this would be the plank of the handy pirate ship we just happen to have sitting in town square?” Cici rejoined.

Tara snickered, and Dele’s face fell. Looking at the older woman’s crushed expression, Arianne’s loathing of the Hunakers soared to new heights.

Even Quinn was openly glaring at the two women. “I should remind everyone that we’re all working toward the same goal and the first rule of brainstorming is that you don’t criticize ideas as they’re flowing.”

“Even the ridiculous ones?” Tara muttered.

“Actually-” Gabe turned in his seat, ostensibly addressing Dele, although his voice carried throughout the room “-I like your idea, Mrs. Momsen.”

“You do?”

He reached out to awkwardly pat the woman’s hunched shoulder. “Absolutely. There are plenty of people in this town I wouldn’t mind sending off the plank.”

Across the table from him, Arianne was dimly aware of muffled laughs and even one or two gasps, but none of those reactions truly registered with her. She was fixated on Gabe’s profile as he exchanged hesitant smiles with Dele.

Heaven help me, he has dimples.

Chapter Six

Quinn and Lilah called the meeting to a close just in time-over the past hour and a half, the cheerfully decorated cafeteria walls had started closing in on Gabe. I need to get out of here. He was preoccupied enough with his growing unease that he nodded at something Patrick said without really hearing it.

“Great!” The other man clapped him congenially on the shoulder. “You just let me know what night works best for you.”

Gabe paused, not sure what he’d just agreed to, but telling himself that, whatever it was, it couldn’t be any stranger than telling Adele Momsen he’d build her a pirate ship. Rather, a partial facade of a ship. Kasey, from the family-owned Kerrigan Farms, had said there was a company that rented “bouncies” and ball pits-popular attractions for kids who wanted to jump inside inflatable structures or play amidst hundreds of spongy balls. She thought she remembered something from their catalog where participants could literally dive into an open pit. Assuming her phone call to them tomorrow was productive, Gabe would start work on a raised platform that would emulate the deck of a ship, complete with a plank.

By Gabe’s early teens, he’d been antsy, wanting to leave Mistletoe and the proximity of an unloving father who made him feel vaguely guilty for his very existence. Looking ahead to the financial independence he’d need to escape, Gabe had started mowing lawns and helping elderly neighbors-including Adele Momsen’s mother-clean out their rain gutters. He’d kept an organized spiral notebook of his clients and what they’d paid him. To this day, he kept an organized to-do list and studied it each morning over coffee.

A couple of weeks ago, it had been a simple, even predictable, compilation: pick up materials at Waide Supply, meet with Linda Berdino about her yard, tell the Winchesters that they really did need to hire a certified plumber.

And then Arianne Waide had happened.

Gabe’s list had morphed radically. One, find new home. Two, build pirate ship.

Patrick Flannery shrugged into his jacket. “So I’ll catch you later for that pool game.”

Three, make new friend. Apparently. “Sure,” Gabe said. At least now he knew what he’d agreed to.

With a nod and parting smile for Mrs. Momsen, he made a beeline for the exit and the promise of fresh air. He was almost there when Tara Hunaker sidled into his peripheral vision.

“Gabriel?” Her low, smoky voice might have been more seductive if it weren’t so affected. And if he didn’t know her better.

The week he’d spent working for her had ensured that he would never look at her and see a beautiful woman.

“I wanted to apologize for my knee-jerk reaction to the pirate fundraiser,” she said, her expression beseeching.

“Good idea,” he said. “Mrs. Momsen’s right over there.”

“Fair enough. I’ll talk to her as soon as we’re done. Have to say, I never would have expected to see you here, but I’m glad-”

“Gabe!”

Arianne bounded toward them with all the restraint and self-consciousness of a puppy, a complete contrast to Tara’s studied expressions and come-hither voice.

Despite whatever chaos Arianne had wreaked on his life, he’d choose dealing with her over Tara Hunaker any day. He flicked the latter a dismissive glance. “If you’ll excuse us?”

He stepped to the side and waited for Arianne to reach him.

At close range, her smile was nearly blinding. “You were magnificent!” She threw her arms around him.

Gabe stiffened. She was hugging him? People didn’t hug him. He wasn’t…He didn’t-“Miss Waide?” Unhand me.

Not that her embrace was unpleasant. Quite the contrary. She was soft and lush, round in exactly the right places despite her diminutive size. Her warmth radiated through him, the scent of raspberries teasing his senses. He was startled by the urge to pull her tight and breathe her in.

His newfound claustrophobia kicked in with a vengeance, and he jerked back a step. He half expected her to look stung by the rudeness, but instead, her rueful smile was apologetic.

“That was probably overkill, hmm?” she admitted. “I do tend to come on strong.”