Page 9 of Mishaps and Mistletoe

“You were Johnny Mathis the other day, too, weren't you? Of course, I didn't see because I was busy crashing into innocent customers. Your fault, by the way.” She shook her head.

He stood and pushed in his chair. “I'll take all the blame. If it works out between you two, what a story you'll have to tell the grandkids. And I'll be the one who started it all.” He grinned so widely she could count all his teeth. “Headed back to work?”

“Nope. I'm going up the hill to the park for a long walk in nature to clear my head or find someinspiration.” She rolled her eyes at the word Nora had used.

“Well, enjoy your walk. And, Josie…”He looked at her and shrugged. “Whatever it is you’re looking for, I hope you find it.”

* * *

Kevin reached backand launched a ball so far into the air, he impressed himself. “Go get it, Linus!” His arm was going to feel that in the morning. It was the park’s fault. The beauty that surrounded him—large, grassy areas, brightly colored falling leaves carpeting the surrounding sidewalks, and the crisp, late-autumn air—there was nothing like this back home in Florida. It did something to him. He rubbed his shoulder as he watched Linus bring the ball back.

“Who’s a good boy?” he asked, rubbing the pup’s floppy ears. He picked up the rubber ball and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Who’s a slobbery boy? Geez, bud.”

Linus stood at Kevin’s feet, poised for another throw. “Let me dry my hands a little more first.” He thought he’d done a sufficient job, but his throw proved otherwise. The ball slipped from his hand, getting only half the distance of the others. It all happened in slow motion: the ball coasted off to their left, homing directly in on a moving target.

“Heads up!” He blurted the words in just enough time for the woman to look up. Right as the ball plunked her in the butt.

“Oof!”

Kevin ate up the fifty yards between them as he ran to check on her. As if the leggings she wore hadn’t attracted his attention to the area enough already, she rubbed her backside. If his eyes could have spoken, they’d have told him they never wanted to look at anything else ever again. The woman looked up at him, and he nearly lost his footing.

It was the girl from the coffee shop.

“Bullseye,” she chuckled, the sound immediately cutting the tension coursing through Kevin's body by half. The smile she flashed him next eliminated it. “We've got to stop running into each other like this, right?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—”

“Don’t.” She waved a hand in the air between them. “We’re even now. Although I crashed into you twice, so—wanna take another shot at me with the ball?” She bent to pick it up, and his eyes, having an ungentlemanly mind of their own, glanced at the woman's injured area. His cheeks flamed.

“No—uh—you didn't hurt me at the coffee shop. Did I hurt you, just now?” Before his eyes could roam back to her injured body part, Linus’ bark snapped him out of it. It was pretty bad when a dog pointed out perverted behavior.

“I'm totally fine.” Kevin wouldn’t be if she didn't stop rubbing herself.

“What are the odds that we’d literally run into each other twice in just a couple of days?”

“As my dad would say, ‘let me explain to you how small towns work.’” She chuckled at her own joke, and Kevin smiled at her easygoing demeanor. “Honestly, in a town this size, it’s actually strange it took us a whole twenty-four hours before we saw each other again. I’ve been known to see the same people a couple times in the same day.”

“Well, next time, I’ll try not to injure you.”

“Same. Now, who’s this sweet little pup?” She crouched and rubbed the dog’s back, and he flopped over in response.

“This is Linus.”

When she rubbed his stomach and the dog let out a moan Kevin had never heard before, he wondered if he'd be going home dogless tonight. “A Beagle named Linus? Unexpected. Linus was always my favorite—the way he carried around his blanket. Made me feel a little better about carrying around a raggedy bear until I was… well, way too old to be carrying around a teddy bear.” Kevin rubbed his back pocket as she talked about security blankets. He’d carriedhisfor decades.

“What’s your name?” Leave it to him to have a conversation with a pretty girl with the smoothness of a junior high boy. The crack in his voice didn't help.

“I’m Josie.” She held out her hand. Her glowing emerald eyes scrambled his brain so much, he didn't realize his hand still had dog slobber on it. Until his wet palm slid into hers.

“Geez. I'm sorry." He withdrew his hand and wiped it on his pants. Now would have been a wonderful time for the ground to open and swallow him whole. “I'm Kevin. And if it helps, that was dog slobber and not sweat. But why would that help? Both are disgusting.”

Smooth, Kev.

Her delicate giggle ended with a tiny snort, and he froze. That laugh sounded way too familiar. No, lots of women laughed like that. His brain couldn't keep names straight if his life depended on it, and remembering facial details was just as difficult, which only bothered him more — something about this woman's face seemed familiar. And these kinds of things never stuck in his brain.

“I promise I didn't use it yet.”

Kevin shook his head, and his attention snapped back to Josie, who extended a small towel in his direction.

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