Page 44 of Just Add Mistletoe

Yeah,Lori replied.It’s terrible what his brother has done.She left it at that and set her phone on the bedside table, then went to find Malcom and Tiger.

But when she walked into the living room, she found him sound asleep on her couch, with Tiger curled next to him. She stood there for a long moment, debating what to do. Wake him and send him on his way? Let him sleep? Maybe the cat would wake him soon anyway? But what shouldshedo? Go to bed?

She glanced at the kitchen to see that he’d cleaned everything up. It was kind of hard to stay just friends with this man. He looked absolutely charming asleep onhercouch. And the addition of the sleeping cat didn’t hurt the image at all.

Finally, she decided to turn off the lights save for the one over the stove. She draped a light blanket over Malcom, and Tiger stayed asleep. Then she headed to her room. After leaving her door ajar in case the cat decided to come into her bedroom, Lori changed into her PJs and climbed into bed. She closed her eyes, willing sleep to come, but it wasn’t until it started raining softly outside that she finally drifted off.

FOR THE SECOND MORNING IN a row, Malcom remembered his dreams. This dream, though, wasn’t about his brother. Malcom was lying on a giant pillow with a soft, furry blanket that rumbled. Furry? He didn’t have furry blankets.

His eyes opened and he found himself staring at a room full of sunshine, bookshelves, and knickknacks. Not his bedroom—definitely not his place.

For a moment, Malcom wondered how he ended up asleep on Lori’s couch. They’d been at the kitchen table, then her mom called and . . . what then? He’d put away the soup container and waited on the couch since he didn’t want to be rude and leave when she was on the phone.

Next thing he knew, he was waking up.

His pulse spiked, and he patted his pocket for his phone, disturbing a sleeping kitten on his chest. Tiger stretched, kneading his tiny claws into Malcom’s chest.

“What are you doing sleeping here? And where’s Lori? And how did I sleep so long?” he said to the empty apartment. At least it felt empty.

The kitten nudged his head against Malcom’s chin. “All right, I’m getting up. Did you eat breakfast?”

He’d had an amazing night’s sleep, and now, he was talking to a cat. He moved to a sitting position, and the kitten leapt off his lap. He looked about for his phone. It was only a hand’s reach away on the coffee table. He knew he should check it right away, but he wanted to enjoy the peace for just a moment more.

“Lori?” he called out, just to be sure. No one answered.

He folded the blanket that had been draped over him—by Lori—and stood. A peek down the hallway showed him that the bed in her room was made, and all was quiet. He spied a handwritten note on the kitchen table.

Picking it up, he read:I’m in the shop. Help yourself to whatever you can find in the kitchen.Malcom did feel hungry, but maybe it was because the morning was half over. A glance at the microwave clock told him it was nearly ten. Thankfully, he knew there weren’t any deliveries until this afternoon. But even from this distance, he could hear the rumble of construction trucks through the window.

He had to get a move on and deal with the fallout from his brother.

Maybe he wasn’t hungry after all.

He turned from the window, only to have his foot attacked by a frisky kitten. Tiger seemed to have forgotten that Malcom was a hundred times his size.

“What are you doing, crazy cat?” he said, scooping up the wriggling ball of fur that couldn’t decide if it wanted to purr or bite his fingers. “It appears you’re going to have a better day than me.”

He decided it wasn’t strange to be talking to a cat. That’s what pet owners did, right? Not that he was a pet owner. He set down the kitten, then picked up his phone without looking at the screen. He’d get back to his trailer, shower, and dress for the day before he read any messages or emails.

Before leaving the apartment, he paused and looked around. The place was all Lori, and it really was cozy. Maybe he should start looking for an apartment—in Everly Falls? It had been a long time since he’d slept so deeply and felt so . . . content. Was it being in a place that wasn’t a trailer? Was it Lori? Was it Everly Falls?

He didn’t know.

Malcom left the apartment, shutting the kitten on the other side of the door. As he headed down the stairs, he wondered what Tiger would be doing all day while Lori worked. He paused at the bottom of the stairs. Turning left would take him directly outside. Turning right would take him into the shop.

He turned right. Lori was with a customer. Someone he recognized.

“Malcom?” Brandy said, her brows shooting straight up. Her hair was scooped into a high ponytail, and she wore athletic clothing, which only reminded him that he’d missed both running and the gym the past several days.

Brandy’s gaze cut to Lori, where she stood by the large front window that she was transforming from Halloween stuff to what looked like Thanksgiving decorations.

“Surprise,” Lori told her. “But it’s not what you think.”

Brandy folded her arms, her eyebrows cocked. “That’s what they all say.”

“I fell asleep on Lori’s couch,” Malcom said, noting the pink that had stolen into her cheeks. She had dressed in jeans this morning—blue—which surprised him. Her shirt was even more surprising, or maybe it wasn’t. She wore a long-sleeved yellow T-shirt with a printedGobble Gobbleon the front. Her hair was in its usual ponytail, and her earrings . . . gold turkeys.

It was impossible to hide his smile. So the all-black clothing wasn’t a year-round thing? Just an October thing?

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