Page 112 of The Mistletoe Kisser
With a soul-deep smile, Sammy rose on tiptoe and kissed her Mistletoe Kisser as the snow fell outside.
To: Beautification Committee Members
Subject: Operation Wobbling Osprey
Dearest Friends,
We have once again brought love to our little corner of the world. Not only did our primary match stick, we also achieved our first ever two-fer thanks to Moon Beam Parker and Sub Par Ryan. Our karmic rewards are many. Including the $789,425 we’ve raised in online calendar sales.
Enjoy your holidays. The matchmaking begins fresh in the new year!
Happy Holidays and Ever Afters,
Ellery Cozumopolaus-Smith
Epilogue
One year later
“Babe?” Sammy called as she let herself into the house. “I’m home. It was a false alarm. The goats were fine. You’d think Jax would know by now when Thor is faking a limp for attention.”
She managed to shuck off her boots and put them on the tray just inside the door before a blur of fur and paws raced down the stairs to greet her.
“Yes. Hello. It’s been a whole hour since I’ve seen you,” she crooned, ruffling Sergeant Powell’s fluffy face. Sixty-five pounds of mutt scrabbled at her legs, deliriously thrilled to see her. “Where’s your daddy?”
Holly the cat meandered by, shooting her a disinterested look.
Sammy looked up expecting to see her grumpy boyfriend standing in the doorway to his office, the former sun porch. But he wasn’t there. The house was also tidier than when she’d left. Fresh wood crackled and split in the fireplace. Neat stacks of glasses and dishes lined the buffet in the dining room. And the pot of corn chowder that she was going to start when she came home simmered on the new range.
A year later and she was still tickled by the fact that Ryan’s favorite way to spoil her was to chip away at her chore list. His patented “useful romance” had made Eva Cardona’s latest grumpy hero a huge hit with readers.
“Ryan?” she called.
McClane poked his head out from under the Christmas tree, then returned to batting at a cat ornament.
Instrumental Christmas music played on the wireless speakers Ryan had insisted on during the spring renovation.
She really only had to open some wine, pull out the appetizers she’d made, and don her pajamas to be ready for their Christmas Eve Happy Hour. Their second together. Last year, things had been a little awkward, what with Ryan’s family worried that he’d jumped head-first into a life crisis and Sammy’s mother complaining about all the work a farm sanctuary was going to take for no gain whatsoever.
This year would be easier. Tonight was just friends, and babies, and dogs. Tomorrow, they would enjoy brunch with her parents and head to Philadelphia for Ryan’s family’s festivities.
The front door flew open behind her, allowing a gust of winter air inside.
Ryan, looking ruggedly delicious in jeans and a heavy farm coat, stomped snow off his boots. “It’s about damn time,” he complained.
“What? Miss me already?” she teased.
He looked down at her, gray eyes fierce and hot.
She couldn’t help herself. She gravitated to him, toward that grumpy mouth of his and rose on tiptoe. He didn’t seem to mind it when she slid her arms around his waist.
The kiss was hot and hard and over much too fast.
“Let’s go, Sparkle,” he said, pulling away and giving her arms a squeeze.
“Go?” she repeated.
Sarge the dog gave a happy bark and danced out the door on the porch.
