Page 77 of Mistletoe Latte

Tendrils of her hair had fallen from the cap, two curls brushing against her cheek. Nick wanted to push them back, take her face in his hands, and kiss her.

He took her hand instead. “You’re welcome,” were his parting words to her. Smiling even as a tear slipped down, she turned around and walked away from him forever.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

SKYLAR DEATH-GLARED at him as he settled in behind the counter. She tossed her broom to the ground and began to stomp over when the damn Italian kid swept in. All her righteous anger transformed into girlish giggling.

“Antonio. Hi!”

Nick did his best to overhear while trying to not make it obvious. If that kid so much as looked below Skylar’s chin…

The boy smiled at Skylar and greeted her in Italian. That did it. Her entire face turned beet red. “Wait right here.” She ran for Nick, the righteous anger about Emma forgotten. “I need a mistletoe latte.”

“You do?”

Skylar blinked slowly at him. “And two mochas. For customers you ignored.”

There was no arguing with that. Nick got back to business making the mochas first, so he could keep an eye on his niece and the Italian stallion. She seemed to forget she was supposed to be doing a job, lingering way too close for comfort. Every time the kid talked with his hands, Nick was certain one would wind up on his niece.

“This is exciting.” Rachel slid in beside him. She took one of the mochas and added a lid to it.

“Why are you here? Didn’t you join with some co-op coffee shop?” Not that he was supposed to know that. Amazing what one could find while light Googling after a bout of insomnia.

“Yes. It’s going well. The partners have expanded to include a tea room and bakery. Though, the donuts you have here are impressive. I might have to steal the recipe.”

“Good luck.” He laughed. “I’ve got two mochas and one mistletoe lat—”

Skylar dashed in and yanked the latte out of his hands. She gave him a quick smile, then ran back to the boy.

Oh no.

The customers quieted enough that Nick could hear her say, “I made this just for you.”

Antonio at least took the cup, stared askance at the design, then took a quick sip. Nick missed out on the snobbery dismissal of ‘an American’s idea of coffee’ as steam shot out and the bell jangled. He noticed Mrs. Wilkins ushering in her daughter, who zeroed in on whatever Skylar was up to.

“Maybe I’ve just been thinking lately. About the old times.” Rachel leaned closer to him and cupped a hand on his arm. Nick stared at her. He couldn’t do anything else as his brain kept screaming at him about the old times.

Which bit? The part where I had to figure out how to get a kid to stop crying and eat dinner after working a twelve-hour shift alone? Or when I was up until two AM fighting with a pile of soggypaper-mâchéto make the head of Lincoln? Those good times?

“Nick! You have an old ghost here.” Mrs. Wilkins swooped in, adding more flame to the fire.

Rachel stared at her. “Desiree. You’ve dyed your hair.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s natural.” She fluffed her hair in response, then leaned closer to the counter. “Nick, there is a matter I wished to bring to your attention. We could perhaps talk privately…?”

He shuddered at having to return to his office. “Here’s fine.”

She shrugged. “My daughter told me that during the dance Skylar went missing…with the exchange student.”

“Missing?” Nick looked up to find Skylar toying with the end of his scarf while Antonio took another sip.

“Now, I’m not one to pass judgment, but this could be a problem.”

“No, it won’t.”They’d never find the damn kid.

“She’s young, yes, but you know what they say about the sins of the father…”

Nick’s heart stopped dead at the way Mrs. Wilkins’ voice rose.

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