Page 39 of A Very Merry Mistake

“Breakfast will be served when y’all finish up. Twenty minutes,” Mom tell us.

“Great, guess we better get to it.” I lead the way out the back door with Claire following behind me. We track around the side of the house to the shed where my parents keep their wood.

“You weren’t kidding when you said they’d think we were together.” She helps me stack wood in the wheelbarrow that’s sitting outside the door, where Dad left it earlier.

“I told you. They’re hardheaded and believe what they want. Even after explaining the truth, I knew they wouldn’t believe me.” I make quick work of our task, knowing Mom likes to serve food hot.

It’s below freezing, but the wind isn’t blowing, so it’s not as bad as it could be.

Claire snorts.

“What?” I turn to her.

“You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when I saw your dad.” She shakes her head. “I was shocked.”

“At least you didn’t sit on his lap.”

She giggles as we walk toward the house with a load.

“I thought about it, but didn’t want to make it awkward.”

I turn my head and lift a brow at her. “You got a Santa kink?”

Laughter escapes her. “Oh God, no. I’ve got a thing for tall, muscular men my age.”

“Lumberjacks on that list?”

Claire shoots me a wink, and my heart rate picks up. “And what if they are?”

“I think you shouldn’t start something you won’t be able to finish.”

Once we make a few trips inside to unload our first round, I smell the sugary sweet aroma of breakfast, and my stomach growls with anticipation.

“Thanks, y’all,” my father tells us over his newspaper. “I wish I could help.”

“No prob, Dad. We’ve got this.”

“Breakfast is almost ready,” Mom yells from the kitchen.

“Better get back to it. Don’t want anyone gettin’ hangry.” I place my hand on Claire’s shoulder as she leads the way outside. A few more trips and we’ll be finished.

As we get ready to step off the back porch, Claire turns around, wraps her arms around my neck, and presses her warm lips across mine. I’m shocked, not sure what’s going on, but not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The kiss deepens when she slides her tongue between my lips, and she lets out a pant. It shouldn’t feel this good to cross the line with a woman I barely know, but there’s something more simmering between us. I run my fingers through her hair, holding her, kissing her, and she moans against me.

When we finally break apart, I study her, getting ready to ask her why she kissed me, knowing we lost control. But before I can speak, she points up. That’s when I see the mistletoe hanging.

“Of course. They’ve always got it around the house during this time of year. The placement changes, but, well, I never have anyone around that’s worth smoochin’.” I shoot her a wink.

“It’s said to be bad luck not to kiss under it. I’ve had enough of that lately.” She places her hand on my chest and meets my gaze.

“Your bad-luck streak is over,” I whisper in her ear. “But now my parents are never gonna believe we aren’t together. Pretty sure my ma saw that from the kitchen window.”

A hint of blush hits her cheeks, and I try to calm my racing heart.

“Whoops.” She shrugs as she chews on her bottom lip.

I’m tempted to kiss her again, just for the hell of it, but she changes the subject.

“Guess we should probably finish up?”

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