Page 55 of A Very Merry Mistake

“It’s ready, and the roads are clear if you wanna come get it today. Even filled it up.”

“Thanks. What if I stop by in about an hour? Will that work?”

“Sure thing, man. I’ll be here ’til six. Be careful. The roads are still slick.”

“Will do. See ya soon.”

I end the call and shake some coffee grounds in the bottom of the French press, then carefully pour the hot water into the top.

While it steeps, Tinsel waits at my feet. When I look down, she meows, so I bend over to pet her. She raises her body upward and meets me halfway. When she gets like this, it usually means she wants to be held.

Since it’s not something that happens often these days, I take it when I can get it. Carefully, I hold her in my arms like a baby. She immediately purrs when I kiss her head, then nuzzles her face against mine. If cats could smile, I know she would be.

“You’re such a heavy girl. Guess I should start cuttin’ back on those treats.”

Tinsel blinks slowly, her way of telling me she loves me and knows I would never do such an awful thing to her.

I walk into the living room carrying the fluff ball and stand at the end of the couch. Claire looks at me from over the top of the book. She must’ve picked it back up when I was talking to Hank.

Her eyes fly over the page, and when she notices me staring, she stops.

“Just tell me what happens,” she begs.

“Nope. The suspense of it all is what keeps you turning the pages. Plus, it’s romance. You already know how it ends.”

She huffs. “I’m impatient.”

“And you’re stubborn, too. What’s your point?”

She playfully groans, but she knows I’m right.

“Hank called. He fixed your truck.” I gauge her reaction, seeing if there’s any tell since she’s a terrible liar.

“That’s great news! I hope it wasn’t something difficult.”

I meet her gaze, noticing no change in her demeanor. “You ran out of gas.”

She sits up, looking confused. “What? How is that possible?”

Carefully, I reposition my arms to keep Tinsel held against my chest. She’s heavy, at least fifteen pounds of fluff. “Did you drive it from the airport without stopping to fill it up?”

Her head tilts like she’s trying to remember. “It’s a truck. Don’t they go farther than cars? Have bigger fuel tanks?”

Tinsel gets fidgety, and that’s when I know my time is up. “Okay, okay. Love you, too.” I place one soft kiss on her head before setting her back on the floor. She zooms off, the bell on her collar jingling as the pads of her feet skirt across the wood floor.

I sit at the end of the couch. “I have to ask you a serious question.”

My heart thumps in my chest as I meet her eyes and think about how to word this, knowing that we’ve shared so much already. I hope she’ll tell me the truth. “Why are you here?”

“To learn more about the town. To enjoy Christmas outside of the city. And I was looking forward to eating some homemade taffy and people-watching, but the weather didn’t cooperate.” She doesn’t miss a beat with her answer.

“That’s it?” I study her soft features, relaxing.

“I’m also into real estate, too,” she offers.

“Real estate?” I ask. “Like an agent?”

She smiles. “Yeah, in a roundabout way. But it’s more like management.”

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