Page 3 of That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe
Welp. This is awkward.
“Ack! Sorry, Ford,” I manage to choke out. “I thought you might be trying to rob me.”
When Ford hears me say his name, he does a double take, squinting down at me. “Sara Hathaway?” His eyes slowly widen. Like teacup-saucer wide. “I haven’t seen you in—what’s it been—ten years? What areyoudoing here?”
“Oh, you know. Just putting out a fire.” I chuckle nervously, nodding to indicate the kitchen behind us. Meanwhile my cheeks flame up hotter than the reindeer I just roasted. Not only is Ford a firefighter, but I’m sure he’s heard all about how Three broke my heart.
I met Three and his cousins my first summer in Abievlle. We all hit it off, but there was a special spark between Three and me. We quickly became a thing—just a sweet, innocent romance. At least that’s what I told my parents. But by the end of August, I had to face facts: I’d grown real feelings for Three.
Every summer after, we spent as many waking minutes together as we could, and we spent the rest of the school year longing for June again. By the time college rolled around, I was blindly in love. And by that I mean I’d fooled myself into believing Three loved me back.
So on our last night together, I offered him my whole heart along with my commitment to a long-distance relationship. That’s when Three Fuller dumped me, and my first love went up in flames.
Now that I just scorcheda bunch of oven mitts in an actual oven? Ford’s probably going to think I’m even more pathetic than I was a decade ago. As evidence of my theory, his face wrenches into a frown. “No, I mean what are you doing back in Abieville?” he asks. “I figured you’d be lawyering it up in the city by now.”
“Oh. That.” More nervous chuckles from me. Then, to make matters worse, I begin to babble. “I actually spent a few years after undergrad working internships, building up my resume before law school. But Ishould beoffered a position at my dad’s firm soon. And I’m here now because my parents bought this house to turn into a rental property. Except they want it listed on some exclusive site that requires an evaluation first. Platinum Stays. My mom calls it the Rolls Royce of vacation rental sites.”
A wave of hysterical laughter bursts from me.
Why, Sara? Why?
There’s zero chance Ford Lansing cares about my parents or their soot-filled lake house. Not to mention some exclusive new vacation rental site. Still, my adrenaline’s pumping too hard for me to stop now. “Anyway, Platinum Stays scheduled the home evaluation for December 21st,” I ramble on.
“Tomorrow?”
I nod. “Which is super-inconvenient since my parents have this big fundraiser thing they do every year on the 24th. Actually, it’s a full-on gala. And Christmas Eve is also my birthday. So yeah. It’s a lot for them to juggle. Heh heh heh.” I flash a desperate smile at Ford and the other guy, who’s now staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.
Yes, sir. I do not disagree with you.
“So”—my shoulders slowly creep up—“I offered to come to Abieville for a few days to handle the process for my parents. And when I stopped for groceries, I got some brownie mix. You know. To make brownies.” I pause for a breath, but I’m pretty much having an out-of-body experience, hovering above an iceberg of awkwardness in the dining room. “Unfortunately, some movers with bad ideas stuck my mom’s reindeer placemats in the oven,and I accidentally set them on fire. I was just putting out the flames when this intruder broke in! See?”
I grab Ford by the elbow, dragging him into the kitchen and over to the hooded man sprawled face down on the floor. “So I defended myself with a fire extinguisher.”
“Yeah, you did.” Ford shakes his head, squatting to check out the body. When he rolls the limp stranger over, the man’s face is covered in blood and hoodie. I squeeze my eyes shut.
“I’m too freaked out to look,” I moan. “Is he dead?”
“Nah.” Ford grunts. “But he’s no intruder either. That’s my cousin, Three.”
Great smoldering reindeers.
My second goal just went up in smoke.
Chapter Two
Three
As I start to regain consciousness, I have no idea where I am or what just happened to me. The only thing my brain’s computing is an absolute monster of a headache. From what I can tell, a trio of blurry shapes are crowded over my body. I start to lift my head, but all I see are stars. When my already-foggy vision tunnels into a woozy blackness with fresh zaps of light, I try to sit all the way up like that might help the situation.
Newsflash: it doesn’t.
“Take it easy now, Three,” says the medium-sized blur. I can’t quite place the voice, but I’m pretty sure I know the guy. “Let’s do this slow.” As he helps me into a seated position, something warm trickles along the nape of my neck. Smells like copper.
Must be blood.
Where am I?
“Ouch,” I grunt. Pain shoots through my skull, making me wince.
