Page 301 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

Her eyes flew wide. “Geez. Calm down. Fine. You made your point. I was wrong. Some people like Brussels sprouts.”

That wasn’t the only thing she was wrong about, but he couldn’t guarantee things would work out with him and Maisie, and he didn’t want her to think her friendship with Maisie was in jeopardy. The ground he was on with Iris was still too shaky for him to take that risk.

Which meant he had to keep waiting, at least for long enough to soothe Iris’s fears. He’d never waited for a woman in his life. Maybe it would be good for him. He only hoped he didn’t lose her before he got his chance.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Christmas had always been a special event in the O’Shea household, as distinctive for the month of celebration leading up to it as for the holiday itself. But Maisie had stopped decorating the house after Molly moved out. The effort had felt like too much for one person and a dog (two this year), and the prospect of a large, decorated,emptyhouse had put a pit in her stomach. So she did her decorating at the shelter, and at home she had nothing but a couple of stockings up for the dogs. Before the conceit of the holiday engagement party, Mary had been after her to celebrate up in Virginia, but even if she’d felt comfortable pawning off all of the Christmas shelter duties, she wouldn’t have gone. Because even if she didn’t decorate anymore, she always lifted a glass of her mother’s eggnog on Christmas. And because she visited their headstones on Christmas day with a wreath from her mother’s favorite florist. And because in her heart, she knew everything was changing. She was ready for change, but that didn’t make it feel any less like the very ground beneath her was quaking.

The day before the “guests” arrived, she settled onto the downstairs couch with a glass of mulled wine and video-called Molly. Chaco curled up at her feet, and Einstein would neversettle for anything less than her lap or immediately next to it. Of course, she had to lift him up because his little legs would only take him so far.

Her sister answered immediately, and from the flash of colors and sound around her, it was obvious she was at a bar. A man who looked like a catalog model for a second-rate department store sat on the stool next to her. His expression was slightly flummoxed; her sister looked bored.

“Um, if you’re busy, I can call Mary,” Maisie said.

“Oh no, I can talk.”

The man’s expression went from flummoxed to aggrieved. “I thought this was going well.”

“Blake, here’s a pro tip from someone who’s been on alotof dates. No one wants to spend half an hour listening to details about your ‘medically necessary’ nose job. Or the fact that you never wear the same underpants. Generally, if you find that you’re the only one talking, something is wrong.”

Maisie held back her laughter…mostly, but a little sputtered out. Ein gave a little yip as if laughing with her.

“But…we just got refills.” Blake waved to their full drinks.

“And this round was on me.” Molly lifted the drink with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone, toasting him. “Now I’m going over there.” She waved the phone, the image going temporarily blurry on Maisie’s side. From what little she could see, there were plenty of empty spaces at the bar. Then again, it was before five in Seattle. Leave it to Molly to go on a date before Happy Hour officially began. “You can stay here or go, but I recommend you finish the drink. TheHe Sees You When You’re Sleepingis very good. Trust me, I’ve been drinking a lot of them lately.”

Without further ado, she walked away and got settled at the far side of the bar.

“So, how’s it going?” Molly asked eagerly. “Have you talked to Jack?”

“That is aterrifyingname for a drink,” Maisie said, “named after what has to be the most disturbing holiday song of all time. I had to ban Dustin from singing it at the shelter.”

“The whole Santa conceit is creepy if you think about it too much. I don’t want anyone to watch me while I’m sleeping.” She raised a hand. “And before you say I used to wish I’d wake up to a sparkly vampire stalker, I was ateenager. Teenagers exercise super bad judgment. And I sense you’re deflecting my question.”

“Maybe,” Maisie admitted. “How are the Twelve Dates of Christmas going?”

Molly laughed, a sound Maisie would never tire of hearing. Her sister’s spirit was irrepressible, although in those long, tearful days after their parents had died, it had felt like there’d be no more laughter for any of them. And the first time theyhadlaughed, their good humor had almost felt like a betrayal.

“Well, you just witnessed part of the latest disaster.”

“Hey!” she heard from the other end of the bar. But it was said sulkily, and Maisie wasn’t worried the man would try to retaliate in any way. Besides, her sister was equipped with Mace and self-defense moves. She could take care of herself.

“Do you intentionally choose people you’re going to dislike?”

Molly’s lips tipped into a little smile. “Sometimes.” She inclined her head a little, as if to indicate Blake was one of those sometimes. “It makes for a better story. The guy I brought here yesterday was a life insurance salesman.” She gave a dramatic shudder.

“Hey! Dustin was an insurance salesman in his pre-Asheville life.” Maisie shrugged. “Although, to be fair, while I love the man, I can’t think of anyone who’d willingly date him.”

“Dustin’s a sweetheart,” Molly said. “This guy kept going on about his brilliant idea to send coffin-shaped postcards out with his sales pitch.”

“Yikes.” Then the other part of her statement penetrated. “Wait, you went to the same bar?”

Molly’s smile stretched wider. “Yeah, it’s part of the story. It’s the same location, but with different dates.”

“That sounds horrible. Are all of them at four in the afternoon?”

“Nah. I’ve experienced this bar at every possible day and time,” Molly said, lifting her drink. “Now tell me what’s going on with you. I see that look on your face. You’re fretting about something.”

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