Page 19 of Under the Mistle-Foe

He seemed completely unaffected by it all, still perfectly put together as when he’d opened the door for me an hour ago. How he hadn’t gotten a single stain on his clothes while cooking was beyond me.

Rob helped us move everything to the dining table, and by the time everyone sat in their seats, there was barely any space for our plates with how full the table was. The turkey had to be placed on a small folding table.

“With this much food, we’ll be eating it until next week,” Adam commented as he plated himself a big ol’ helping of mashed potatoes and pineapple ham.

I helped myself to the food too, my taste buds exploding at the first bite. I shouldn’t have expected anything less from Remy’s cooking. The man knew his way around the kitchen, but I already knew that. He used to help cook at the diner in high school, and I’d had more of my fair share of food cooked by him back then too.

Instead of grabbing food, Remy pulled out his phone and tapped out something. I was curious about what he was doing on it, but manners kept me from asking, so I focused on my food.

Then, like he was reading my mind, Adam piped up, “Boy,why do you have your phone out at the dining table? Didn’t your mama teach you better than that?”

Remy glanced up from his screen. “Sorry, I was just sending out Thanksgiving greetings to some friends.” He pressed something else on his phone before slipping it back into his pocket.

To my absolute horror, my notification went off at that exact moment.

Remy glanced at me. “What a coincidence,” he commented. I chuckled nervously. “Speaking of which, have you seen Ford around?” He turned to his dad. I tried to blend into the table. Maybe if I shoved enough food down my throat, I’d become one with all the other dishes in front of me.

“FordDonnelly? The one who used to visit the diner all the time?” Adam furrowed his gray brows in thought. “Now that you mentioned it, I haven’t seen him come by all that much recently.”

“Heard he has his hands full with his ex-wife’s daughter. Cute as a button, she is,” Rob added.

Sweat trickled down my back.

“I didn’t know you two got close,” Adam asked, forking a piece of turkey into his mouth.

“We’re not close exactly. He reached out to me after I moved away, just checking in, and we started messaging each other every so often,” he said with a shrug. “I saw him in town the other day with his daughter chatting to that new Holiday Hope Foundation guy. They looked busy, so I left them be.”

A sigh of relief came out of me, so loud that it caught Remy’s attention. “You okay?” he asked with a brow raised.

“Huh? Yeah! Just, you know, really enjoying the ham!” I squeaked and helped myself to another piece of the sweetmeat. And if Remy was giving me weird looks, ignoring the awkwardness had become my new superpower.

The conversation moved along, thank fuck, to business at the diner and the card nights Rob had been hosting. Apparently, Adam had found his new talent in cards, wiping the others out of their beer money, something that greatly annoyed Rob, which also made him demand a rematch right after dinner.

Everyone helped to clean up and set the dining table as our new battle arena forBridge. We played for a few hours, Adam kicking everyone’s asses. It didn’t matter who paired up with him, Adam’s team was always guaranteed to win, which really irritated Rob.

We moved on to second dinner when it got dark out while chatting about the game. Rob kept accusing Adam of cheating somehow, while Adam took great delight in taunting his friend. Remy and I laughed at their antics as he shot me little knowing smiles. It all felt very…domestic, and a little part of me never wanted the night to end.

“December’s right around the corner.” Adam’s change of topic seemingly came out of nowhere. He took another bite of my apple pie, humming with approval, probably for my benefit, then continued, “We need to get Isabella’s mistletoe arch up soon. She always had it up on the first of December and said it was the season of love and peace. Remember how Isabella would always drag us under the mistletoe whenever we got into a fight and demanded we couldn’t leave until we played nice?”

Rob chuckled. “We’d be stuck in the cold standing under that damn arch for hours because of your stubborn ass.”

Adam glanced at him. “I’m the stubborn one, huh? Who’s the one who keeps demanding rematches? Can’t stand being a sore loser, can ya?”

The bickering started again between them, but my focuswas on Remy, who’d suddenly gotten all quiet. He pushed the food on his plate around for a few seconds before excusing himself from the table. The two older men didn’t even pause in their argument as I got up as well to follow Remy.

I found him in the backyard, back leaning against the wall, a lit cigarette between his lips. He blew out a puff of smoke when he caught sight of me, which turned into a laugh when I tried to offer him one of the lollipops I had in my jacket pocket. I popped the sweet candy in my mouth when he shook his head.

“Your candy addiction can’t be any healthier than mine,” he commented, with another puff of smoke billowing past us. I laughed, leaned beside him, and watched him suck on the stick. His cheeks hollowed and thick lips puckered at the action.

I had to resist the urge to offer him something else to suck on. Something hard and desperate for him. I quickly shook off that thought and looked up into the night sky.

One of the things I loved about living in a small town was the lack of light pollution that the big cities had. We could actually see the stars here, and, while not as bright as in my memories, they still flickered above us.

We stayed like that for a little longer. Me, shivering, and my nose wrinkling from the smoke. Remy sighed when he noticed and opened the sliding door back into the house to the red scarf and beanie that were hanging on the coat rack near the entrance. Hehaphazardly fit the beanie onto my head but was gentle as he wrapped the scarf around my neck.

White plumes of smoke drifted above us, as hazy as this dreamlike moment was for me.

“Are you okay?” I asked in a whisper. Remy still stood close to me, his hands on me as he arranged the scarf. Would it be inappropriate if I covered his hand with mine?

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