Page 19 of Mishaps and Mistletoe

“I’ll go on record saying white hot chocolate is the most underrated beverage on the market.”

“I totally agree.” She raised herHome Alonethemed mug to his, which featured Clark Griswold plugging in a strand of Christmas lights. “Nice mugs, by the way.”

“They’re your fault. You got me hooked on Christmas movies.”

“Old Jojo would be very proud.” She looked up at him, her expression unreadable but dimmer than it had been seconds ago. “Remember when I thought the McAllisters were adopting you?”

“I remember me correcting you and telling you they were the McCanns, but you insisted on calling me Kevin McAllister, anyway.”

The corner of her lips pulled up. Twenty-five years later, and her smile still sent the same shot of heat to his core. The white hot chocolate mustache softened her, and not reaching out to wipe it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. It shouldn’t have been.

“You’ve got a little something—” He pointed to the space above his own lip.

“Oh, geez.” She grabbed a napkin from the holder and daintily dabbed the corner of her mouth, like that would do the job.

“It’s kind of—” He moved his finger back and forth across his mouth.

She covered her entire mouth with her napkin, but it didn’t block her cheeks which now reddened, a stark contrast to the white cloth.

“So, what have you been up to in the last two decades?” he asked. Thinking on his feet was not his forte, but she’d seemed embarrassed. Hopefully, a change of subject would help.

“Well, I graduated high school, finished college, got engaged, lost my sister, and then my engagement went down the tubes. I think that about sums it up. How about you?” She rattled off the events with the same nonchalance as someone reading their grocery list aloud.

“It’s a shame what happened to Courtney.” He leaned in closer to her on instinct. Touching her felt a little bold but keeping his distance—something he probably should have done—felt wrong.

She nodded. “I figured you’d probably heard all the details. Like how a drunk driver hit her when she was crossing the street to the restaurant where Max was going to propose to her. Small towns, right?”

“Big mouths, actually.”

“Johnny again. I should have known.”

Silence filled the room, and Kevin’s palms slickened with sweat. Should he say something? Stay quiet? He wasn’t good at reading nonverbal cues. Josie opened and closed her mouth like she was about to speak, so he gave her a second to breathe and collect whatever thoughts swirled in her head. He had enough swirling in his own.

“A lot changed after that happened.Ichanged.” The usual rasp in her voice grew more pronounced. “Life gets hard from time to time without her. But there’s no time harder than the holidays.”

That made sense. Kevin remembered Josie and Courtney celebrating Christmas in July on the beach by building a sandman. He’d even played along, rolling up his own shirt for a makeshift scarf. Though his feelings about the holidays at that time were mostly bitter or neutral at best, the Ward sisters’ joy was contagious.

“And now I have to dig to find some kind of holiday inspiration for a job I don’t even know I’m good at anymore.” She rubbed her nose with the napkin, a shield she hid behind as she sniffled.

“Why do you say that? The girl I knew loved Christmas more than life itself. Remember Sandford?”

She barked out a laugh that both startled and satisfied him. “What a ridiculous name for a sand snowman.”

“I disagree,” Kevin said, pounding his fist on the kitchen counter but unable to hide the smile that betrayed his attempt at being serious.

“Yeah, because you named him.” He was so close to pulling her from the funk in which she’d settled, but a long sigh and a shine in her eyes told him he’d lost her. “It’s guilt.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “What’sguilt?”

“All of it. No one loved the holidays more than Courtney. And growing up, we spent so much time around the holidays at Oglebay. When I landed the job there, she was ecstatic. ‘You’re living the dream, Josie. You get to be the Queen of Christmas at the most festive place on earth,’ she’d said. Of course, I was just an assistant, but the career path was in place. I was going to plan events at Oglebay Park one day. And now that day is here. The opportunity, anyway. And I’m just—stuck?” She posed it like a question, like she wasn’t sure how she felt.

“So, why the guilt?”

She rubbed her hands up and down on her lap, her eyes clinging to the floor. “Courtney will never see it. She’ll never see what I’ll do there. She’ll never see another holiday season. Why do I get to keep having these moments, these holidays, and she gets—what? She gets nothing. She’s just gone.”

Her voice cracked on that last word, and Kevin lost the last ounce of restraint that kept him in place. He reached across the kitchen island, placing a tentative, slightly trembling hand on hers. No time to read social cues. He acted on pure instinct, something he rarely did. But when her hand turned over underneath his and they were now palm-to-palm, he was almost sure he’d read the situation correctly. Almost.

“What would Courtney say if she were here?”

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