Blame It on the Mistletoe (2 page)

“Well, then do you mind if I come out and use the restroom? I think I’m bleeding.”

What?
“No! Who the hell
are
you?”

The curtain rings rattled as they slid along the metal rod. A shadow walked through the door from the back room, and Brooke clutched her owl tighter, ready to hurl it like a baseball. He was tall. His head dipped to clear the doorway, and Brooke saw that he had a hand raised to his head. In the dim light of Brooke’s ironically cheerful Christmas lights, he appeared to have a dark beard.
Crap
. Was he homeless? A biker? Charles Manson?

Something metal flashed near his fingers.
Oh god
. She didn’t hesitate, just let the owl fly. He looked up just in time and ducked like a boxer; the poor bird crashed into the wall and splintered into several pieces.

“What the hell is wrong with you, woman? I’m already injured, are you trying to kill me?”

That voice. Now closer, it was familiar, and it flowed over her, bringing memories of a very bad boy with sparkling blue eyes and lots of swagger. A young handsome face, large calloused fingers, and hours of secretly watching him flirt, laugh, and charm every teenage girl at Preston High. The same boy who used to star in so many of her young girlish fantasies. What the hell was
that
voice doing coming out of
this
man, who had just broken in to her shop?

Before another word could be spoken, a frantic pounding came from the door. Brooke turned to find a wide-eyed Ryan standing on the other side of the glass. She felt an irrational flash of annoyance. Why hadn’t he just broken it down like on TV? Some hero. Ryan quickly assessed the situation—his eyes darting between her and the intruder—lowering his hand from his gun before breaking out into a huge smile.

“Shiiiiit,” the voice from Brooke’s past said, drawing it out almost comically. His voice was full of humor, and he was at the door in four long strides, pulling it open with a
whoosh
, bringing a blast of cold air with it. “You can take me to jail for the night if I can drive that squad car down Doomstrail going a hundred twenty miles an hour.”

“Hell yeah, in the snow is my favorite. You make that turn at the end to avoid bottoming out and you slide nearly fifty feet sideways.” Ryan laughed and embraced the bearded guy from the past in a manly bear hug.

“Shit, man. I heard you’d become a cop, and I couldn’t even believe it.”

Ryan chuckled as he pushed the door shut. “Crazy, right? And I’ll tell ya, payback’s a bitch.”

Brooke managed to shake off her surprise and step out from behind the barrier of the counter, studying the two men framed in the entryway completely lost in conversation. Seeing the guys together, laughing like old times, confirmed what she’d known deep down inside. She stepped forward. “Alex?”

Alex Coleman turned, and his deep blue eyes widened as he looked her up and down. Never in all the years she’d known him had he looked at her so thoroughly, and suddenly she felt very frumpy in leggings, snow boots, and a giant hoodie.

“Brooke? Holy shit, look at you.” He shocked her to her toes by stepping forward and pulling her in for a hug. She wanted to love it—hug him back because her version was definitely not manly—but her body responded and stiffened before her mind could assure it that he was not a real threat. She couldn’t help it, it was the first time a man besides her brother or a self-defense teacher had touched her in almost a year. And he must have sensed it because he released her immediately and allowed some distance between them. An awkward smile worked at the corner of his mouth. “You’re just as cute as I remember.”

She blinked, unsure of how to respond. He thought she was cute before? How had she not known that Alex Coleman, her brother’s friend and her childhood crush, had thought she was cute? Then again, people said puppies and babies were cute, but it didn’t
mean
anything.

“How long has it been since you met a razor?” Ryan asked with a laugh, his eyes curiously darting between her and Alex.

Alex chuckled, but didn’t take his gaze from Brooke as he ran a hand down his scruffy chin. “A while I guess. I’ve been living up in Oregon; it’s like a coat—for my face. Cold up there.” His eyes narrowed a little. “Brooke, I’m really sorry I scared you. I heard somebody come in, wasn’t expecting that. I should have spoken sooner, but there was a damn cat up on a high shelf. Knocked something off and hit me in the head. Scared the shit out of me. I wished I would’ve known it was you.” He gave her a warm smile.

“Oh, no. That’s totally okay, I wasn’t that scared.” She was too mesmerized to do anything except babble like a moron while she stared at him. He gave her a
yeah right
grin and finally turned to chat with her brother, giving her an opportunity to gawk openly.

Ryan wasn’t kidding, Alex was hairy, but his beard wasn’t as grizzly as it had appeared in the shadows. It was full, but not unkempt. Even a decade older, this man was still incredibly gorgeous. She’d forgotten that he was so tall, or how perfect his jawline was … and those shoulders. Even with his coat on, she could tell he was even stronger and more toned than he’d been before. It was official—he was even better looking now than he’d been in high school. Something she wouldn’t have guessed was even possible.

Long ago Alex Coleman was the boy her parents had reluctantly let Ryan be friends with, but warned Brooke to stay away from. As if Ryan being male meant he could handle things she couldn’t. Alex was Mayor John Coleman’s grandson, but only by accident. Alex’s father, Brett, had gotten Liz, a girl from the wrong side of the tracks, knocked up in high school and then had taken off for the military before Alex was born. Sadly Brett died about four years later, leaving a young Alex to be raised by a mother who had better things to do—like get drunk and party—than take care of a little boy.

But something happened to Alex as he matured. Something that every young female in town noticed. By the time he entered high school, Alex was the most popular boy there, that very handsome boy who broke all the rules and yet managed to charm the teachers at the same time. Guys envied him secretly, and girls wanted him openly. And Alex gave those girls what they wanted, over and over. The only people who rejected him were his grandparents, which was always sad, because while they had everything, their grandson went without.

Brooke wasn’t sure what to make of him being here so many years later. Nobody really spoke of him anymore since he’d been gone from Preston for so long. She knew he’d spent some time in the military, but that was about all she’d heard. He’d mentioned Oregon—based on his burly physique and beard, she could only assume that he was a logger or some sort of mountain man. Despite that, he smelled amazing, and she wasn’t immune to his charming smile, either. She hadn’t seen him in twelve years, not since his high school graduation, and in that time, the handsome boy had become a very hot man. A man, Brooke blushingly realized, she’d been quietly ogling for the past few minutes and who was thankfully deep in conversation with her brother.

“So what are you doing back in Preston?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah, and why were you here at 100 Main, at night?” she interrupted.

“Well, my flight just got in about an hour ago, and my grandmother said I could stay upstairs in the apartment while I was here. Unfortunately she failed to mention someone else was staying there also.” His gaze narrowed in on Brooke.

Shit
. “Oh … oh no. I’m so sorry …” She looked at Ryan, feeling a little panicked.

“Oh…well. Brooke, uh, she …” Obviously Ryan was just as lost for an explanation as she was. Was he going to have to ticket his own sister for squatting? The small town would eat that up.

“Are you staying up there, Brooke? It’s no big deal if you are.” Alex looked uncomfortable, and she hated that she was going to have to admit to her scam. “I can go stay at a hotel.”

“No! I mean … I hate for you to have to do that,” Brooke said. “You have every right to stay, I was just—well, Beverly doesn’t know I’m staying up there for just a little while.”

“Ah, I see. Well, your secret’s safe with me.”

Brooke exchanged an awkward glance with Ryan. She’d been secretly crashing in the upstairs apartment for the past month, having given up her studio on the south side of town so she could put the six hundred dollars a month toward her rent at the shop, which was getting harder to pay for every month. Beverly Coleman never came into the building, so Brooke figured that she’d get back on her feet over the holiday season and be out by February. March tops.

Before anyone else could speak, the radio on Ryan’s hip crackled to life. A woman’s monotone voice spewed a bunch of information that Brooke couldn’t decipher but that made Ryan frown. “Shit, I gotta go, you guys. Walter Shipton’s turkey fryer was stolen off his back deck. Fourth year in a row.”

“Serves the guy right, he was always an ass,” Alex said with a chuckle.

“Yep, I’m starting to wonder if he’s setting me up, just to get back at me for egging his old Chevy sixteen years ago.”

The whole apartment conversation seemed to have dropped, and Brooke watched in awe as Ryan and Alex joked for a few more minutes, just like twelve years hadn’t passed.

Before he stepped out, Ryan spoke to Alex once more. “Listen, Brooke wasn’t planning on staying upstairs long, and she wasn’t trying to take advantage of Beverly.”

“Like I said, no big deal. She won’t hear about it from me,” Alex responded.

“So, you sure you’re fine grabbing a hotel room?” Ryan asked.

“Absolutely, no problem,” Alex said.

Ryan nodded, satisfied with the situation, and stepped closer to Brooke. “You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just—”

“It scared you, I know, but it’s just Alex. He’s …
fairly
harmless.”

Brooke swore she heard Alex scoff, and she lowered her voice. “I know, I know. I just wish Beverly would’ve mentioned it. I mean, obviously she didn’t expect me staying here, but I would have discovered him tomorrow when I opened the shop. But it’s fine.” She shook her head and gave him a smile. He wouldn’t leave until he was certain she was okay with it, so she gave him that assurance even if it wasn’t a hundred percent true. She was a little rattled, but not for reasons she wanted to discuss with her brother. “Thanks for coming, Ry.”

“Anytime—you know that.” Ryan leaned down and kissed the top of her head. He turned and looked at Alex. “Hey man, it was good to see you. Sorry again about the hotel thing.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m only here for a couple of days.” He glanced at Brooke. She realized he never did say why he’d come to town.

“Sooo, you leavin’ now, then?” Ryan asked, his eyes darting between Alex and Brooke.

“Yeah, I’ll get out of here, I’m just parked out back.”

With a hesitant nod, Ryan walked back into the snowy darkness, leaving them alone. For a moment neither spoke, and then they both laughed awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want this to be weird,” he said with a grin. “It’s just … so crazy to see you now. I mean, you were beautiful the last time I saw you but … wow.”

Brooke stifled a tiny gasp, shocked that he would say such a thing to her. How many times had she been witness to Alex Coleman putting the moves on other girls? She’d dreamed of this conversation, the moment he would turn his charms on her, finally
see
her for the first time. She was shocked to realize that she fell for it now like she would have as a teenager. She chuckled, feeling a slight flush in her cheeks. “Thank you.”

She wondered if he remembered the night he hid from her parents in her bedroom and kissed her cheek. She’d never forgotten it. It probably hadn’t been worth remembering for a guy like Alex.

“So this all yours?” He turned to take in the entire room, and she pulled herself together since he was obviously not leaving—and also changing the subject. Oh, right, this was Alex Coleman. He likely had these kinds of encounters all the time, told girls they were beautiful, schmoozed them out of their panties, and then moved on. She was also being mean, judging this grown man on his teenage transgressions. She cleared her throat.

“It sure is. I opened the shop this summer.” Brooke walked back behind the counter to flip on a few more lights. She was proud of this space and wondered what he thought. “It’s certainly not a guy kind of shop, but I kind of love it.”

“What kind of shop is it exactly?” He picked up a beaded necklace, one of her latest jewelry pieces. His large fingers gently rubbed against the round stones.

“It’s a variety of things. Obviously I sell my jewelry, but then also some home décor, handmade items, or customers can purchase the supplies to make their own unique things. I even teach classes here.” She nodded her head to the back corner where some tables and supplies were set up for classes.

“It looks cool, Brooke. I’m impressed.” He turned back toward her and gave a sincere smile.

“Thanks. I’d be a lot more impressed if they’d finish up that roadwork out front. It’s kind of cramping my style.”

“Yeah, I imagine. I saw all of that mess out front, which was why I parked in the back. Probably why I scared the shit out of you.” He grinned and continued to walk around, touching things here and there. “It’s weird seeing the building decorated like this. They must have ripped out some walls since I was last in here. John’s office used to be in that corner.”

She hadn’t missed the way he’d called his grandfather by his first name. Not really a surprise given their tumultuous history. “Uh, yeah, they did. They were just thin drywall, not original to the building. I think Beverly had them ripped out immediately to set up retail space. She kind of gave me a good deal.”

“Yeah? Good. It’s about time something useful went in here.” He circled around a display of candles and wooden trays before stepping close to her.

She froze, locked in his hot gaze. Despite the space between them, Brooke swore she could feel the heat of his body reaching out to her, making her want to lean in, get closer, and her will was tested when he reached up and fingered a lock of hair that rested against her collarbone. Unable to meet his gaze, her eyes focused on his neck. Even through her thick sweatshirt his touch nearly singed her. Thank goodness she managed not to shiver.