Page 35 of Mistletoe Season
Luke:Glad to know his royal good looks haven’t disarmed your logic.
Luke:And I’m sorry, Charlie. We’d thought he was making steps in the right direction, but it sounds like he’s going to need a little mountain TLC to get on the straight and narrow.
Charlie:Prince Valiant doesn’t stand a chance with a brother-in-law like you.
Luke:I was made for this moment.
Charlie:Since it’s starting to rain, I’m going to try to get him inside.
Luke:Ellie and I will be there in about thirty minutes.
Charlie:See you then.
Charlie stared down at the unconscious man. Of course the only type of prince she’d ever meet was a rogue one. She lowered the tailgate. Further proof of the ridiculousness of those childhood fairy tales.
She tugged at the prince’s foot, distracted for a second by the fact he wore tennis shoes.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but... tennis shoes? She huffed and tugged again. Luke’s wife, Ellie, was a princess, and she wasalmostnormal, so why wouldn’t Ellie’s brother wear tennis shoes?
At another tug, the man groaned.
The rain intensified, followed by a nice roar of thunder.
Perfect.
With a very unladylike growl, proving all the more how unqualified she was for this whole Mistletoe Wish coordinator business, Charlie grabbed the prince’s feet and pulled until she’d moved his body to the edge of the truck bed.
A few more tugs brought him to where his legs dangled over the tailgate.
Good. Progress.
She fisted his jacket in both hands and raised him to a sitting position. With great lack of ceremony, his head drooped against her shoulder, and his cool, damp hair pressed into her neck and jaw.
How had her life come to this?
Beneath the scent of alcohol, the warm, spicy fragrance of cardamom filled her airway. Heat flew into her face.
Not fair. At all.
She pushed back from him, steadying him by his shoulders—his strong, muscular shoulders.
The warmth in her cheeks sparked to sizzling.
It was a good thing he was nearly comatose right now.
Another roll of thunder sounded, and Charlie sent a longing look to her front porch. There was no way she and Prince Drools-A-Lot Charming would make it to the front door if he didn’t help a little. She gave his shoulders a little shake.
“Hey...” Oh dear, what was his name again? Adam? “Wake up!”
His head bobbled like a rag doll. Another round of thunder grumbled its warning.
“Icouldjust leave you here.” She raised her voice, giving him a stronger shake. “And you could... get struck by lightning.”
A strangled sound erupted from him.
Was that a laugh?
Well, at least it proved a good sign he might be waking.
