Page 4 of Spicy Nick

Before I can respond, however, we’re joined by Lucy’s husband, Dan. I feel a pang of envy as I watch the way my cousin lights up at the sight of him. Foolish, I know. Not to mention that I should be used to it. They’ve been married for over twenty years.

Also, I know Scout does the same with me. Except that recently…recently, it feels like that excitement, that joy—that gleam in her eyes when she sees me—has diminished somewhat.

“What’re you doing here?” Lucy asks, in breathless tones. At least some of which might be due to how tightly Dan’s arms are wrapped around her. I’m impressed that she hasn’t either passed out or spilled her coffee, but when she blindly shoves her cup in my direction, I happily relieve her of it.

“Work was slow,” Dan replies, obviously referring to his job at his family’s nursery—which is ordinarily busy this time of year selling Christmas trees. “So, when Kenny offered to close up for the night, I took him up on it. Besides, something followed me home from work, and I wanted to show it to you.”

At that, Lucy wrests herself out of her husband’s arms and glares at him. “Cavanaugh—no!Notanother dog? You promised!”

“A promise?” Dan arches an eyebrow at her. “I did no such thing. But no worries. It’s not a dog this time.”

“A cat?”

“No.”

Lucy’s eyes narrow. “You haven’t been hanging around with Chay, have you?”

It’s a fair question. And something to make anyone’s blood run cold. Chay Johnson runs one of the nature centers out in the foothills. He rehabilitates injured wildlife and occasionally fosters them out.

Dan chuckles. “Would you relax, woman? It’s not an animal—okay? It’s just this.” And he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a beribboned sprig of mistletoe, which he holds above her head.

As Dan lowers his face to hers, Lucy slaps her hands against his chest to hold him off. “It ‘followed you home’?” she asks in scathing tones. But there’s a smile tugging at her lips, all the same. “That’syour story?”

“Well, it was in my back pocket. So, technically—yes. It was behind me the whole way.”

“And now you think I’m going to kiss you just because you dressed up a handful of leaves in holiday colors?”

That sounds almost like a reasonable question, doesn’t it? Yet I’m sure everyone within listening distance has just rolled their eyes—like I just did. Because, of course she’s going to kiss him. You couldn’t even find a bookie to lay odds on that.

“Well, it is traditional,” Dan murmurs. His eyes are heavy-lidded. His gaze is focused on her lips.

“Oh, and you’re really into tradition, aren’t you,” his wife replies gazing right back at him. Ditto on the eyelids. Ditto onthe focus. Her tongue slips out to slick her lips and yeah…there’s no question at all about what’s gonna happen next.

“I’m into anything that results in you kissing me right the fuck now,” Dan says, prompting me to turn away in an effort to give them a little privacy. Although why I even bother is a mystery. It’s not like that’s ever mattered to either one of them.

Cole’s still running around. I call him over, so I can ascertain that he’s not getting too sweaty or disheveled—for the sake of the pictures. Then he runs off again. The line inches forward a little more, veering around Lucy and Dan who have stepped off the footpath, but are still PDAing like teenagers.

The spicy scent of peppermint wafting from the cup in my hand mingles with the evergreen scent of cedar from the surrounding trees, and with all the other holiday fragrances, as well. Marshmallow. Whipped cream. Pumpkin spice. Gingerbread. I listen to the lyrics tumbling down through the trees and imagine that I’m taking a walk withmyfavorite girl in a world made for sweethearts.

Five years in, I guess I’d forgotten that the season isn’t nearly as festive when you’re holidaying on your own.

“So, how’s it going, Nick?” Dan asks after he and Lucy have come up for air.

“S’all right, I guess,” I say, as I hand my cousin back her drink.

“No, it’s not,” Lucy replies. “He’s worried about Scout.”

“About Scout?” Dan looks at me in concern. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I say, but—once again—Lucy overrides me.

“Remember before their wedding, how she went down to LA, and everyone thought she must’ve had a boyfriend on the side?”

This is an absolute lie, by the way; as Dan immediately proves by saying, “Yeah, that’s not how I remember it. I’m pretty sure it was just you who thought that, babe.”

Lucy frowns. “Was it? Well, whatever.” Then she turns to me and says, “I’ve been thinking about this, and I bet I’m right.”

“About which part?” I ask warily. Right about now, I’m starting to remember why it’s generally a bad idea to ask Lucy to speculate on anything.

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