Page 20 of Spicy Nick

It’s notuntil we get home that I remember about the mistletoe that I forgot to pick up—yet again. I’m standing alone in the living room fuming about it—hands fisted on my hips, a scowl on my face as I stare at the empty doorway that leads to theentryway—when Scout comes up behind me and slides her arms around my waist.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. “This is not your usual Christmas Eve expression.”

“No, it’s not,” I agree. “I’m frustrated with myself. I asked Dan to bring some mistletoe home for me, and then I forgot to get it from him.”

“Yes, I know how much it upsets you to forget anything,” she teases.

“Well, it does,” I say, pouting a little as I turn to face her, sliding my own arms around her waist. “But also, now we don’t have any.”

“I’m sure that’s annoying, too,” she tells me. “But can’t we just pretend that it’s there?”

“Pretend?”

“Yeah, like this.” Then she lifts a hand above my head and wiggles her fingers. “Yoo-hoo. We’re standing under the mistletoe. You have to kiss me now.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Yoo-hoo?”

“Or whatever. I don’t know what you’re supposed to say. What is the official mistletoe greeting, anyway?”

“I don’t think there is one,” I tell her, as I tug her closer. “Maybe…Look up? But basically, I think you just kiss.”

“So, then what are you waiting for?” she asks, going up on her toes.

Her lips touch mine and, just like that, I’m home. My world automatically rights itself and all my worries and frustrations melt away.

She clings to me, hands gripping my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. I deepen the kiss, and let my own hands slide down to cup her butt, to hold her lifted in place. I swipe my tongue across her lips then dip inside. She opens her mouth on mine, sucking my tongue deeper into her mouth.

And what can I tell you? It sure feels like mistletoe to me.

“All right, so, what’s the plan here?” Scout asks when we finally break apart. “What are we doing first?”

We’re both breathing pretty hard and I can’t initially make sense of her words. “Well, we could keep doing this,” I suggest hopefully.

She laughs and shakes her head. “Stockings,” she says ticking the items off on her fingers. “Gifts under the tree, preparing Santa’s snack, or assembling the gingerbread house? Pick one.”

“How about none of the above? How about we relax for a moment, sit on the couch, admire the tree, enjoy the fire, and unwind for a little bit?”

“Unwind?” she repeats, eyeing me skeptically. “Is that code for have sex?”

“It could be. If that’s what you want it to mean?”

“Don’t you think it might make more sense to get all those tasks I mentioned done first?”

“Sure.” I shrug. “But sense is for suckers.”

“Okay, you win. I’m not even going to try and argue with logic like that.”

Moving away from me, she flips the switch that illuminates the tree, then takes a seat on the couch. Meanwhile I toss a fake log into the fireplace. Yes, the kind everyone hates. All I know is that it ignites in under a minute with a minimum of fuss. That’s my kind of fire.

I’m about to join her on the couch when a thought strikes me. “Hey, do you want a drink?”

“Oh, hell, yes,” Scout surprises me by answering. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Once again, I’m caught off-guard. “Really? I didn’t think the day was that stressful—what did I miss?”

“What?” She frowns at me, for a moment, and then her face clears. “Oh, no. The day was fine. But your cousin! Omigod, what’s going on with her?”

“I’m not sure. Why? What’d she do now?”

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