Mistletoe & Kisses Read online

  “Hmm. This is hard. I have been pretty much eating anything Ella has in the kitchen,” I joke, “but in all seriousness, right now I’m loving anything chocolate, mint, or pineapple-flavored. That’s about it.”

  His hand finds its way to the back of the couch and comes to rest behind my head, and the casualness and closeness we are sharing with one another is making my body hum with excitement. It’s as if it craves to be as close to him as possible at every waking moment. When I’m around him, thoughts of Jase and all the stress disappear. His right hand comes to rest on my tiny bump that’s popping out a little more today than when I arrived on Friday it seems.

  With his eyes focused on my stomach, he asks, “So…you and the father? I’m taking it you’re not together, seeing you’re here for Christmas alone without him.”

  God, I can’t get emotional right now. In the two months since Jase broke things off with me for what feels like the millionth time, I’ve only cried twice. First was the night he broke up with me, and the second was my first night here. I cried myself to sleep as I thought about my ultrasound earlier in the day and how I messaged Jase telling him we were having a baby girl and he couldn’t care less. I keep hearing this little voice in the back of my head telling me maybe if we were having a boy, he would’ve cared more.

  But that is just me trying to rationalize being treated like shit. There is no other reason besides I am having a baby with the world’s biggest douchebag.

  I breathe in a slow, relaxing breath and then exhale it between my tightly pressed lips, and it seems to help. My heart slows down, and the nervous and sick feeling in the pit of my stomach begins to lessen. I stare into Brody’s relaxed and content face, and for some unknown reason, I trust him and feel like I can open up to him, free of judgment.

  “The father isn’t in the picture, hasn’t been for the last two months, and at the rate we’re going, I doubt he’ll be anytime soon.”

  I don’t realize it, but somehow my hand ends up holding my belly while I talk. I find myself touching it a lot, now that I can feel her moving around inside me. Rubbing my belly seems to always help me relax. I feel like I’m comforting her and me, all at the same time.

  Brody reaches out and presses his hand on top of mine. It’s so much bigger than mine, and it practically swallows mine beneath it. The warmth from his large calloused hands penetrates through my shirt and into my stomach, causing a warmth to travel through my body and a nervous fluttering in my stomach.

  My eyes flicker from his to my belly, where his hand is resting, and then back up to his gaze, and I have to keep telling myself, Breathe, Callie!

  For Christ’s sake, he’s only touching your stomach! It’s not like he’s down there petting your damn kitty, for crying out loud.

  “He’s an idiot. Plain and simple. No other explanation for it. Children are blessings from God, and to hear this guy isn’t doing his part pisses me off.” His eyes move from mine to Corbin, who’s still sleeping peacefully beside me. “I love Corbin with everything in me and then some. It baffles me how anyone—a mother or father—could just abandon their child.”

  Brody is extremely attractive. That’s a given. He’s also the sweetest man I’ve ever met. But just now, hearing him talk about his son has just made my ovaries combust, and I’m already knocked up! I feel like there should be a crowd of women surrounding me, all going ‘Awwwww!’ very, very dramatically.

  Why couldn’t I have gotten pregnant by a loving and kindhearted man like Brody? Why did I let myself settle for less and stay with Jase? Yes, he is funny and has his moments when he can be sweet, but he was an asshole far more often than he was nice.

  I can feel my eyes glassing over with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. Blinking them away, I stare at the fire and try to calm my emotions again. Me and pregnancy hormones do not get along very well. I am a ball of a million emotions right now—anger, sadness, disappointment…even contentment—and it’s crazy how content I feel sitting here talking to Brody about all of this.

  Brody pulls his hand away and rests it in his lap, and my stomach immediately feels cold and misses his touch. I rub my belly one more time and grab my mug of cocoa, taking a long sip before sucking the chocolate from the candy cane again. I burst out giggling as Brody arches his eyebrow at me.

  I crunch down, biting about an inch off of it, and savor the yummy minty goodness. Brody’s eyes grow large and he mouths, Ouch, then starts chuckling. His laughter is contagious, and I can’t help but join in. He has the sexiest laugh. It’s deep and rich and makes my scalp tingle as it caresses my ears.

  “What?” I ask sarcastically. “Can’t a girl eat a candy cane in peace?”

  Nodding, he gives me a sly, sexy smirk. “Yes. Yes, you can, but I can’t promise I won’t laugh watching you do it. Who knew eating a candy cane could be so sexy.”

  Wow. That came out of left field.

  “My fat butt eating a candy cane is the farthest thing from sexy, but I appreciate the kind words. You gave my ego the little stroke it needed today.”

  He reaches out, tucking my hair behind my ear, and gives me a stern look. “Don’t ever call yourself fat. You’re growing a baby. That’s a pretty major thing right there,” he says, tapping my bump. “Anyone who even thinks of calling you fat, tell me and I’ll knock their ass out.”

  I roll my eyes and ask, “If it was girl, what would you do?”

  “Have Ella beat their ass. She’ll back me up on this a hundred and ten percent. In my opinion, I love a girl with a little meat on her bones. Who wants to snuggle up with skeleton?”

  He has a point. I always find skinny guys a turn off. I like my men beefy and buff. I guess it’s the same for most men. One good thing with this pregnancy is my girls are looking really great lately.

  I glance down at my chest and smile before taking another sip of my cocoa. Brody takes notice and cracks me another killer smile. “You’ve got a perfect set of…breasts? I don’t want to be creepy or come off as a perv,” he jokes, “but I’m a guy, and I can tell you right now that every inch of you is perfect.”

  “You need to stop complimenting me before my face burst into flames from blushing so hard.” I slap his arm and have to fight the urge to squeeze his bicep. It looks like if he flexed his arm, the poor shirt would split straight in two.

  “Okay, change of subject. Let’s see…what do you do for a living?”

  I relax against the plush couch and find myself hyperaware of every single body part of Brody’s that is near me. His knee is brushing against mine, and it keeps making me lose concentration. Then, he keeps licking his lips every time he gets ready to say something. I am sitting here trying to have a regular conversation, when all I want to do is straddle his lap and taste his perfectly kissable lips.

  “I’m a beautician. I mainly do hair, but I do acrylics too. I was employed up until Friday, but I finally just said life is too short to spend it working for the biggest bitch in all of Albany, walked into the salon, told her I quit, said a quick hello to my bestie, Gia, who also works there, and then walked out to head to my ultrasound appointment.”

  “You quit your job when you have a baby on the way?” he asks, truly shocked.

  “I agree my decision was pretty rash, but I’ve never felt more empowered than I did that day, like a weight had been lifted off me that I’d been carrying around. I have plenty in my savings, and I plan on looking into renting a small place to open up my own salon. It’s been my dream since cosmetology school, but I kept putting it off. I’m done putting off for tomorrow what I can do today. I want to be a great example for my daughter, just like my mother was for me.”

  He nods in agreement with everything I’m saying and looks to be really listening and intrigued, rather than just amusing me.

  We spend the next hour talking about what I want for my own salon and what I plan on doing once the baby comes. I really don’t know what I’ll do yet. My only hope is I’ll have about three months to get the shop going and
have my client list I’ve built over the last few years follow me over to my own place. Once I have the baby, I hope Gia will come work for me and have her clients come to us too. At least with her running the salon, it’ll give me six weeks for maternity leave before returning.

  The plus side of owning my own place is I can bring my baby to work. I can start out slowly, only working half-days or something. I’ll figure all that out once the time comes. For now, I need to just get my dream off the ground.

  I kept trying to ask Brody about Corbin’s mom, but each time, the words got stuck in my throat and refused to come out. I feel so comfortable telling him everything about me. I was kind of hoping he’d just openly volunteer the information to me. But he never did.

  If he opens up to me or not right now, I really don’t care. I’m happy with the casualness we have, without drudging up too much negative, heavy issues. I told him about Jase, and it felt good to get it out there, because I would rather he know my story than judge me from coming up with his own conclusions.

  I was thankful he dropped it after that, and we didn’t talk about Jase again, because for the first time, I’m not worrying about him every second of the day. Instead of wondering who he’s with or what he’s doing and if he’s missing me, all I’m thinking about is how much I’m loving being around Brody and being here with Ella.

  I hope things can stay this way for as long as possible.

  Chapter Eight

  FOR THE REST of Monday and most of Tuesday, I didn’t see much of Brody. We were hit really badly by the storm, and even lost power for a few hours, so he was busy keeping the wood stocked in the house so all of us were warm. Ella has fireplaces in each room, which is a smart thing, because everyone was warm all night. I don’t think Brody slept more than an hour or two Monday night, and then all Tuesday, he spent it plowing the mile long road that leads from the main street down to Ella’s bed and breakfast.

  The couple with their three kids left today—thank God—to take their kids to see Santa at Crossgates Mall. They are hellions. I swear I will never let my kids act like spoiled brats. Ever. They were perfect angels while they had Wi-Fi for their smartphones and had television to watch. As soon the power went out, they became Tasmanian devils chasing each other all around the house and fighting.

  Thankfully, Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence are super sweet. They are out to dinner right now, so the house is empty besides Ella, Devin, and myself. We’re working on everything for Christmas dinner tomorrow. We’ve been baking all day long. We started as soon as we finished cleaning up breakfast. Ella said she invited the guests staying here to join us for dinner if they wanted to, so between all of them, us, and Brody and Corbin, we have to make a lot of food.

  We have two large turkeys on the counter, thawing out for tomorrow. Then, Ella has double of everything for sides. She’s preparing everything today, so tomorrow all we have to do is pop the dishes into the ovens. All I know is standing on my feet for what has to be a good eight hours has my back killing me.

  I rub at the bottom of my back to try and ease the ache at the bottom of my back as I walk over to the oven to get the pies out that just finished baking.

  “Callie, go lie down for a bit. You look exhausted, sweetie,” Ella says from the other side of the kitchen island, where she’s hand chopping bread for the homemade stuffing.

  “I’m fine, just a little sore. I don’t want you guys stuck in here doing everything by yourself, while I just lay around doing nothing.” I appreciate her letting me stay here. That’s two weeks of a room being unavailable, because I’m here. I offered to pay her, but she refused. So I’ve tried to pitch in as much as I can around here to help her, since she does it all on her own.

  Devin tosses a balled up paper towel at me and glares, trying his best to look serious, but fails miserably as I block the paper towel, rebounding it back at him and smacking him straight between the eyes. Laughing, he yells at me and points towards the stairs that lead up to my room, “Go rest now. If you refuse one more time, I’ll carry your ass upstairs.”

  Pursing my lips, I fold my arms across my chest. “I’d love to see you try. You’d blow your back out trying to lift me.”

  He lets out an amused chuckle. “Don’t test me, Callie. I lift weights that weigh more than you do; don’t you worry about my back.”

  I let out a sigh of defeat and walk across the tiled floor towards the wide archway. I stop at the doorway and smile back at them sweetly over my shoulder. “You guys are so damn pushy. I’m going to lay down as requested and try to read for a little bit. Text my phone when Brody is ready to fix the shower so I can make sure I’m not passed out snoring or something.”

  “Okay. We got it. We’ll text you the second Brody gets here. Now go rest!” Ella says, waving me off.

  “Okay, okay. I’m going.”

  Each step up the stairs feels like an eternity. I want to take a shower, but I have to wait for Brody to fix it first. I could really use hot water right now to sooth my muscles. For now, I’ll have to settle for relaxing in my super plush bed.

  I normally stand on my feet all day at the salon, and my back will hurt a little by the end of the day, but as my belly is getting bigger, it’s harder to be on my feet for a long period of time. I’ve been helping Ella around the bed & breakfast and it is exhausting. I don’t know how she does it.

  With Devin being here over the weekend and then here today, it has been a huge help. He’s helped strip the beds and add new bedding, which I appreciated greatly, and I know Ella did too. The Palmer’s are the family staying here with their kids, and they have a sofa in their room that has a pullout bed, so all three of their little kids have been sleeping on that, making one more bed to strip. They’ve wanted their beds changed every other day. It’s a killer on my back, ripping all those beds apart and remaking them, plus cleaning the bathrooms and vacuuming.

  You really have to love what you do to run a place like this.

  Brody has been so busy working outdoors clearing the snow. We got a good two feet or more, then add all the snow he’s plowed and it has piled up pretty high. He’s supposed to be here any time after he gives Corbin dinner so he can fix my shower because it’s not working right for some reason.

  Is it crazy I’m excited to see him, even if it is just to fix my shower?

  Since I met him, he’s all I can think about. It’s insane. I haven’t stressed over Jase at all while being here. I gave up texting him, because he hasn’t bothered to get back to me. Normally, I’d be an emotional mess over it, but I’m actually feeling good and have smiled more in these last few days than I have in the last five months.

  One reason for all my smiles is Brody’s son Corbin. I love playing with him every day. It is like the highlight of my day, knowing I’m going to spend it with him. It is impossible to not fall in love with him; he is just the sweetest and silliest little man. I wake up every morning excited to see his big smile greet me as I come down for breakfast. He calls me Sheriff Callie, after some cat that’s a sheriff on his cartoon channel. I swear it’s the cutest thing ever. I’ve seen it a few times when babysitting Aaliyah, but it never stuck with me until now, with Corbin.

  Every day, the thought of going home gets harder and harder to accept. I know they’re only a short car ride away, but just the thought of not being able to see them every day sucks. I want to believe Brody feels the same. He’s been flirty, but I can’t tell if that is just how he is, or if it’s something more. More than likely, he is just being polite, but my overly hormonal self is getting all emotional and seeing something that just isn’t there.

  I’ve tried to ignore the feelings I’m having towards Brody, because I know my life is too complicated to add more people to it. Blocking out thoughts of him though is very hard to do when his face is haunting my mind from the time I wake up until the time I go to sleep. Even then, it’s impossible to escape him. I’ve been having the most vivid dreams about him, where I wake up feeling as if I’m climaxing; they’re th
at intense and realistic. They only make me more confused.

  The only thing I can do is keep my distance from him and not let myself fall for him anymore than I already have. It’s the only way I can leave here with my heart still intact.

  I toe-off my Ugg boots and grab my Kindle before climbing into bed. It’s warm in here, so I just lay on top of the covers and cover myself with the throw blanket from the bottom of the bed. I look at the clock and see it’s almost six-thirty. Brody said he’d be over around seven, so I have an hour to relax before I’ll finally be able use the bathtub. I think a long soak in the tub sounds more inviting than just a shower.

  I don’t realize I have fallen asleep until I hear my phone singing Chandelier from my bedside stand, of course waking me up from yet another seriously hot dream.

  “Crap!” I say under my breath as I whip my blanket off and crawl up the bed towards my phone to read the text.

  Brody is downstairs now. He’ll be up in a minute.

  I type back a quick reply telling her thank you, and then jump up and walk into the bathroom so I can make sure my hair isn’t a mess and I don’t have drool on my face or something.

  Just as I’m walking back into my bedroom, I hear him knocking at the door, and my stomach instantly knots up. I don’t know why I’m so nervous about seeing him. I see him every day, and sure, I get a few butterflies, but right now it feels like a swarm of bees.

  Maybe is the fact that he is going to be in my bedroom, where I was just dreaming of us doing the nasty together. In the damn barn, no less. I knew it was a dream, because no way in hell during the middle of winter would I be naked in a barn. I don’t care how hot he is.

  Opening the door, I smile up at him nervously. “Hey! Thanks for coming by; I know it’s late. It’s just my back is killing me today, so I really want to soak in the tub before bed.”

  His eyes darken and slowly slide over me before directing towards the bathroom. I feel my face flush. I feel like a damn teenager getting all bashful, because I told Brody I’m taking a stupid bath. I wouldn’t be so turned on if his eyes didn’t just look like he was visualizing me naked, like I have him way too many times.