Page 26 of Mistletoe Misses
“You still love him.”
“More than I realized.”
With a snap of her fingers, she points a purple fingernail at me. “This explains why you haven’t been able to connect with the guys you’ve dated.”
Defeated by reality setting back in and halting my melting, I let a sigh take over. “I’ve always known. I just didn’t want to admit it since I thought I’d never see him again.”
“Him showing up like this is happening for a reason, I just know it. It’s a second chance.” Her hands fold under her chin as excitement sparkles in her moss-colored eyes.
“I don’t deserve one. I never should have walked away, but since I did, I wish I would have crawled back to him long before now. We’re in this agonizing situation because of my selfishness and fear.” Thinking of all I gave up by choice—not because of anything he did—has turned my throat into a depressing desert. I snatch my glass of water off the table and drain half of it. “Anyway, I didn’t ask how long he planned to stay.”
“Does it matter? If you want a chance to get whatever you’re longing for—forgiveness, another shot with him, closure—you need to do whatever it takes to get it, or you’ll be alone for the rest of your life.”
“Geez. Don’t hold back, Kait,” I joke to counterbalance the impact that declaration had on my faltering system. “I don’t—”
Something outside catches my attention. “Is that…”
Kaitlyn’s eyes follow where I’m pointing. “A goat?”
The white goat with light brown spots and two tiny horns doesn’t appear fully grown—a teenager if there’s such a thing for goats—which is probably why it’s causing so much mischief. In between eating live Christmas greenery outside stores and restaurants, it’s jumping onto and off decorations and planter boxes like it owns the place.
“Wonder who he belongs to,” Kaitlyn says.
“There’s a tag on his ear. If they ever catch it …” Amusement takes over my brain as several older men emerge from buildings and fail at catching the spry little creature. “Someone can take him home.”
“I’d name him Spot,” Kaitlyn decides. “What do you think?”
“It suits.”
Ember Falls’ most lovable drunk hooks an arm under the goat’s neck. He lowers to the ground for a better grip, but Spot’shead squirts out with the motion, and he takes off across the street … right at Maddox.
“Holy flannel. Is that …”
“Yep.” The word oozes out with a satisfied exhale. No one fills out the humble fabric quite like Maddox.
Confident in save-the-day mode, he swings a coat over his broad shoulders, a few defined abs peeking out from under his red and blue, plaid shirt as his arms slip into the sleeves. Each step he takes toward the naughty animal is fluid, sturdy, and unmistakably male. The years he spent in the Army and on the force clearly prepared his body for action of any kind.
He’s the picture of strength and grace, and I wonder if that’s because the shadows of our past have been lifted off him in my absence. At the idea, grief courses through me with riptide force. I desperately want to repair our connection, whatever that might be now, but I won’t do it at his expense.
“Maybe Spot is a girl,” Kaitlyn muses, saving me from my spiraling thoughts without realizing it. Her attention never moves the scene unfolding across the street.
Spot squares off with Maddox, holding his stance, but not in preparation for a battle of speed and agility as he did with the others. It’s almost like he’s admiring the view, too.
I want to laugh at the spectacle, but I’m too captivated by the lanky boy I used to know showing off his man skills. My mouth waters at those muscular thighs dipping to scoop an arm under the goat’s belly. He straightens with ease, carrying Spot on his hip to his navy truck parked nearby.
I recognize the Red Sox sticker on the back and yearn for what I gave up once more. I haven’t been able to watch a game since we broke up. That was one of our things. We watched every broadcast we could together at his house or mine, even before we started dating. I miss how simple those days had been. How loved and safe I felt by his side.
A groan hums in Kaitlyn’s throat as Maddox leans over the open tailgate to secure Spot to the bed with a rope. “I’d let him tie me up any—” Guilty eyes coast to me, a half-smile telling me she’s only half sorry for her comment. “Oops. Got carried away there for a bit.”
“Go ahead. He’s not mine.”
She waves away the declaration. “Whatever your status may be in his life, he’s always going to be yours and vice versa. That’s the magic of soulmates. Anyone who tries to get between that is just wasting their time.”
I turn back to Maddox and watch him climb into the driver’s seat. He takes off slowly to not jostle Spot in the back. That’s Maddox for you. No matter how crispy his outer layer gets through life’s challenges, his heart will always be tender and sweet, like the most perfect, hot cinnamon roll.
???
Maddox
