Page 11 of Mistletoe Kisses

“Yes.” He sounded uncertain.

“I’ll give you my number. Then you can text me if you need more supplies or anything.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

I rattled off the number. Not the best circumstances to give a cute guy my number, but whatever worked.

As I turned to leave, the door began to open, so I went over to the sink to wash my hands. The customer gave me a nod before going over to the urinal.

While I cleared his table, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked it after taking his dishes to the kitchen and putting his coat on the rack.

Unknown number: This is Arlo.

Arlo. That suited him. Sweet name for an adorable guy.

Lucas: Hey, Arlo. I’m Lucas. How’s it going in the spicy trenches?

Arlo: Not great, but I think what you brought is helping. Thank you.

Lucas: You got it. Let me know if you need more of anything.

I put my phone away and made a round to check on my tables. As the dinner rush continued, I didn’t have much time to worry about him between making runs for customers. He didn’t text again, and his coat was still on the rack, so I knew he was still in there.

After another hour or so passed, he cautiously approached me as I was filling sodas behind the bar. He walked with a slight limp and an occasional wince, but he didn’t appear to be in too terrible shape.

“You okay?” I asked quietly.

“Good enough to walk without screaming, I guess.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket.

I waved him off. “Seriously. My treat.” I didn’t mind covering his meal. I couldn’t in good conscience charge the guy when his meal had been so spectacularly ruined. Despite the circumstances, he’d been the highlight of my day.

His cheeks reddened, but he put his wallet back. “Thanks for making the most humiliating night of my life not as terrible as it could’ve been.” His eyes locked on mine for all too brief a moment before they darted away again. I could get lost in that sea of jade.

“You’re welcome. I’ve done mega-embarrassing things in front of crowds, so I get it. I’m glad I could help. You’ve got my number. Text me if you need anything else while you’re in town, okay? And if you’re not too traumatized to come back, I’ll recommend some less spicy options.”

Arlo bit that kissable lip again as he studied me for a moment. He smiled, then turned and rushed over to get his coat before slipping into the night. I watched his tight little butt until I couldn’t see him anymore. I hoped he would be back again because my week could use more Ginger Spice.

Chapter5

Arlo

I clutchedthe coffee as tightly as I could without crushing the cup in my fist. I’d moved through buying it from A Whole Latte Love, the only coffee shop in Dahlia Springs, like a zombie. I’d barely noticed the charming café because my mind was focused on the Tome Raiders bookstore a few doors down and across the street. More specifically,whowas on the other side of the bookstore’s front window.

I exited the coffee shop and stood on the sidewalk out of the way of morning foot traffic. Crisp morning air made the quick puffs of breath through my nose a visible cloud. A loud bark of laughter startled me out of staring at Tome Raiders as a trio of older women wearing white sneakers, puffy coats, and pastel ball caps speed-walked by me while holding small barbells.

I wondered who’d picked the bookstore’s name. Did my dad’s family like puns as much as I did? My thoughts spiraled with an endless stream of questions about the family I didn’t know until the once-hot coffee turned cold in my hand. How much time had passed while I’d tried to work up the nerve to go in there?

I’d surprised myself by even going downtown at all. Deb had been part of the reason. I’d attempted to settle in to read after breakfast, but she’d been as chatty as I’d feared. Instead of giving this part of Dahlia Springs a wide birth, I’d ventured out. After making such a fool of myself last night, it was hard to imagine anything worse happening. I supposed I’d found an ounce of bravery after hitting rock bottom.

“Are you thinking about going into the bookstore, or are you checking out a different one?”

I was startled by the unfamiliar voice. I turned toward the petite middle-aged woman with dark skin and curly black hair wearing a long red coat with a Christmas wreath pin on the lapel.

“Oh. Um. The bookstore.”

“They’ve got a wonderful selection of books. All sorts of genres. The place is a bit disorganized, but if you spend some time looking, I’m sure you’ll find what you need. Have you been in there before?”

I shook my head. “I’m just visiting.”

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