Page 35 of A Very Merry Mistake

I hold out my hands, warming my fingers, hoping the temperature rises quickly. The mornings are usually the coldest, thanks to the large, double-paned windows overlooking the rolling hills. The curtains help, but only so much.

After Tinsel is fed, I put a pot of water on the stove to boil for French press coffee. I grab the carafe from the back of my pantry and rinse it out before pouring ground beans in the bottom. This isn’t my favorite way to prepare coffee because it sucks to clean, but there aren’t many options. The bonus is it tastes great, not like the shitty instant crap I drink when I’m backcountry hiking.

When the water begins to bubble, I pour it over the grounds and put the lid on top, allowing it to steep for the next ten minutes.

As I wait for it, the chill in the room vanishes.

Just as I’m pressing the coffee, my phone buzzes on the counter. The giant battery bank I bought for times like this still has 98 percent left. At this rate, I’ll be able to use it for the next month and a half.

I walk over and answer, realizing it’s just past eight. I slept in.

It’s my mom. “Hey, sweetie, how’s it goin’?”

I hear water running in the bathroom, which means Claire is awake, too.

“It’s goin’ fine. Y’all good over there?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you could come over and help your dad bring some more firewood into the house. He pulled his back earlier this mornin’ when he carried a load in.”

“It must’ve been too heavy,” I say.

“You know how he is. Santa thinks he’s Superman and doesn’t listen to anyone.”

I snicker. “I’ll be right over. Give me about thirty?”

“Thanks, I’ll have breakfast for ya.”

“Got enough for another person?”

“Sure, tell Hank he can join us. Oh, your brother is calling. See ya soon.”

I don’t have time to correct her before she ends the call. I run my fingers through my hair. This is going to be interesting.

Tinsel lifts her head and looks at me. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Her tail flicks, and she goes back to her food bowl.

Claire comes from the bathroom, her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head. I try not to stare at how damn beautiful she is without even trying. Flawless, glowy skin and bright blue eyes. She’s still wearing her silk pajamas, and they hug her body. I grab two mugs from the cabinet and set them on the counter, then pour her a cup and one for myself.

She immediately picks up her pace and grabs it with both hands, inhaling the sweet scents. “Chocolate notes.”

“I almost forgot you were a coffee connoisseur.”

She grins, blowing on the top. I do the same.

“You want to meet my parents?”

Her mouth slightly parts. “Really?”

“Why not? You’re gonna be joinin’ me for Christmas dinner there anyway.”

“Am I?” She looks even more puzzled. “I don’t recall having that on my schedule.”

“Did you think I would let you stay here all alone on Christmas Day?”

She opens her mouth and then closes it. “I would be fine. It’s just like every other day. And don’t you dare call me Stubborn Susan!”

I laugh. “I would never let you spend a holiday cooped up here with Tinsel when I’m at my parents’ eating a big, home-cooked, turkey dinner. There will be plenty of desserts, too. Afterward, we always play a long game of Monopoly with spiked eggnog. But it might be less awkward if you meet them now as opposed to me bringin’ a pretty woman with me to a big celebration and them gettin’ the wrong idea about us.”

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