Page 8 of Mishaps and Mistletoe

Or someone.

A certain coffee shop patron came to mind, and she willed him to go away. She’d showered the poor man with iced coffee; he didn’t owe her any favors.

“What about that vested Viking you ran into here?”

Is Johnny a mind reader?

“Vested Viking? I don't know who—”

“Yeah, you do.” His lips curled into a slow smile. “I'm surprised you didn't take advantage of the mistletoe hanging right above the two of you at the scene of the crash. Looked like you were going to.”

Josie crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. “First of all, Vikings have beards and hats with horns on them. That guy had a hat with a poofy ball.”

“Hat details—that’s what’s important here.”

“Second,” she plowed on with a twist to her lips, “while we may have embraced for a couple seconds—”

“About twenty Mississippis, to be accurate. But go on.”

“I only held onto him because I didn't want to fall again.”

“But you still did.”Would it be wrong to smack the smirk off his face?

“And last, I would never kiss a stranger under mistletoe. When I was a kid, my Nana told me mistletoe is a sacred holiday symbol, and you should only kiss someone you love under it. And I dunno—it kinda stuck with me. What you saw was an unbalanced klutz trying to catch her footing. Or possibly someone with a bad case of vertigo. LikeIwould lean in to kiss a stranger,” she scoffed. “Maybe you’ve forgotten about my man ban.”

One of Johnny's brows rose to his hairline as he leaned closer. “Scott wasn't your one true love?”

“What are you talking about him for? Weren't you listening—oh.”

Johnny sat back in his chair, his cocky smile as present as ever. He'd caught her.

“Mistletoe is poisonous. That's what Scott would always say.”

“He was supposed to kiss you under it, not eat it as a snack. But this whole mistletoe and true love notion—very Hallmark-y. Especially for someone who has supposedly sworn off holiday merriment. And men.”

Josie swallowed audibly. “And you know why.”

“I do. But I also think you still believe in these kinds of things a little, or you wouldn't have gotten all worked up about it just now.” He nodded at her balled-up fists clenched so tightly, her knuckles were white as snow.

“Look, Johnny. A lot has changed.I’vechanged. At some point, life smacks you in the face hard enough, and you wake up.” That was definitely the case for her, anyway.

“So, that's just it then? The Queen of Christmas will never experience the mistletoe magic?”

A slight smile curved the edges of her lips. “I may never get a mistletoe kiss, but my very first was under a branch of seaweed on Christmas in July so—I’m set.” Her vision blurred as she allowed herself a moment to visit a time in her life she thought of pretty frequently. A time on the beach when her life was as tranquil as the soft waves that provided the soundtrack to her biggest “dear diary” moment.

“Back it up a sec.” And the daydream ground to a halt. “I'm gonna need a few more details. And what the heck is Christmas in July?”

Josie remembered every moment of that kiss. But it washermoment. One she’d kept to herself for nearly twenty-five years. She wasn’t about to share it now.

“There’s not much to tell. And Christmas in July is exactly what it sounds like—the 25thof July.”

Johnny sat back from the table and twisted his lips.

“Order up for Johnny Cash.”

“Is that you?” Josie asked.

“Perhaps.”

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