Page 16 of The Mistletoe Makeover

“Stray cat,” a husky voice says. Jace leans against the doorframe with an amused glint in his eye. A ginger cat skitters by, hiding behind a bush.

I straighten, trying to pick up whatever’s left of my pride. “Were you standing there the whole time?” That wasn’t how I wanted to make a first impression.

“Long enough to see you almost face-plant.” The orange cat leaps out from the bush as Jace moves to block the door so the kitty won’t sneak inside. “If you want to come in before Tabby bolts in here, I’d appreciate it.”

“Tabby? You name your strays?” I glance at the ginger feline who caused my humiliation.

“I found them in the woods as kittens and they followed me home. The other cat is Blackie.”

“Let me guess... she’s black?” I lift an eyebrow.

Jace shrugs. “I’m not very creative with names,” he admits, reaching down to scratch Tabby behind her ears. “Even though I have a small heated shed for them, they act like they want to be indoor cats.”

“Maybe you should let them,” I suggest. “Cats know where they belong.”

“I tried, and all they wanted was to bolt outside. I think they want whatever they can’t have. And since they can’t make up their minds, I keep them outside.”

Even though Jace seemed standoffish and smug the first time I met him, this makes me think there’s more to him than meets the eye. A guy who takes in strays can’t be that bad, right?

As Jace waves me inside, Tabby attempts to follow my lead, and Jace makes a swift movement to stop her and bumps into me instead. As my hip brushes him, his bicep presses against my arm to steady me, and I immediately notice that he’s solidly built—a fact that makes me jump away from him in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as Tabby slinks away. “Do you want to have a seat?”

When I turn, my breath catches. This place is just as gorgeous as I imagined. A grand entry opens up to a spacious living room with reclaimed wood floors, an enormous stone fireplace, and leather furniture that looks so buttery soft, I could melt into it. A modern chef’s kitchen is off the living area while an open stairway leads to a loft where I assume the bedrooms are. My favorite part is the wall of picture windows in the living room, boasting a stunning view of the sloping mountainside, overlooking the valley below. No wonder Jace wanted this property. The cathedral ceilings and breathtaking views are priceless.

“This view,” I whisper, taking in the snow-dusted fir trees dotting the mountain. “It makes me feel like I’m outside with the cats.”

“It’s the reason I bought this property,” he says, his eyes roaming across the valley. “I wanted a place in the mountains where the surroundings inspired me. After traveling by tour bus and plane for weeks on end, this place is my shalom.”

“Your what?”

“It means peace in Hebrew.”

I can see why. A grand piano sits in the opposite corner, begging to be played. According to the brief bio I read, he plays guitar, so I’m not sure why he has a piano unless it’s to impress people. The whole feel of the place makes me want to curl up on a leather sofa with a cat tucked on my lap.

Jace sinks into an armchair and motions for me to do the same. He props his elbows on his knees, suddenly turning into Mr. Smolder, ready to do business.

I erase all thoughts of lounging around in this mountain retreat and open my laptop. “I have some ideas I want to run by you. And then you can tell me what you need me to do.”

“I won’t need your ideas,” he states. “And I’ll send you a list of things I need done by email.” His words pinch, throwing off my newfound confidence. He’s totally dismissing me.

“Uh, I thought we were discussing concert preparations and how we can tie it into the festival.”

He grabs his phone off the coffee table and swipes the screen, ignoring me. What happened to the Jace who wanted to help the community?

“Jace?”

He puts a finger up to let me know he’s busy. “I’m responding to a message from my manager.”

He might be a big star, but my time is worth something too. I rest my chin on my hand and stare at him while he types a text.

“Uh, sorry.” He sets down his phone. “I gave it some thought, and I want a small concert. My manager is picking some pop songs that are Christmas-themed.”

I frown. “What about our original idea? The carols you like along with a few new songs?”

“I’m not sure now. And I don’t want to include any new songs.” His eyes flit out the window. “There’s not time. And no offense, but it’s just Maplewood.”

My shoulders sink. What happened to the Jace who wanted to help Maplewood and restore his career? He’s totally giving up on this before we’ve even started.

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