A Little Country Christmas - Carolyn Brown Page 0,70

name Diaz? Not Garcia?”

Casey nodded. “After Dani and Julia’s dad split, Miranda went back to her maiden name. There was some bad blood there for a while, but now both parents spend Christmas at Julia’s in Miami like it’s what they’ve always done. Dani, on the other hand…” She shook her head. “She took it the hardest, which is why this time of year really hits her, you know? Anyway, like I said, you better do right by her. She deserves nothing less.”

“You’re right,” he said, then walked out of the tavern grateful for the wine yet feeling like an ass for how he’d behaved when the whole light festival business had begun. The holidays were just as difficult for Dani as they were for him. She simply went about dealing with it in a different way. A better way. She took all of her energy and put it toward making each Christmas more special than the one before, while he’d wanted to pretend it didn’t exist.

He needed time to think, to process how much Dani had changed his life in the short time since he’d let her see past the polished veneer that was Mayor Peyton Cooper.

He’d driven to town but decided to walk the rest of the way to Meadow Valley’s residential area. It was cool outside but not cold, and for the first time since he could remember, he didn’t want to speed by the decorated windows, the strung lights just waiting to be lit in three more days.

He’d been aimless since he’d gotten back to town, but tonight he felt like he might have direction, something to look forward to. Someone who might even give him hope.

By the time he made it to the small blue cottage at 165 Locust Way, he was smiling. It didn’t even faze him that the roof was trimmed in a rainbow of holiday lights. Seemed like the closer he got to wherever Dani Garcia was, the easier everything simply became.

He stepped onto the porch, his free hand raised and ready to knock on the white door that was framed on either side by white-trimmed windows, when the door flew open before he had a chance to make contact.

An older woman, a few inches shorter than Dani and with dark brown hair cropped short, opened her arms in welcome.

“Mayor Cooper!” she said, wrapping him in a warm hug. “It’s so nice to see you.”

He hugged her back, of course, even though it had been some time since he’d greeted a virtual stranger with such a gesture. Come to think of it, Peyton had never actually hugged someone on first meeting. He was an expert at shaking hands, but this was—unexpected. Especially when the woman knew her daughter had been cooking breakfast at his house earlier that morning.

“Mrs. Diaz,” he said when she straightened. “It’s so nice to officially meet you.”

She clapped her hands together. “You did your homework, young man. Didn’t you? I’m impressed. But please, call me Miranda.”

He held out the bottle of wine. “Well then, Miranda, this is for you.”

She gave him a wry grin. “You know, you’re not even through the door yet, and I’m just about ready to offer you my daughter’s hand.”

He suddenly coughed, choking on nothing in particular, and Dani’s mother laughed.

“I’m joking,” she said. “But it was worth it just for that terrified look on your face. Which is now forever caught on camera—or as long as it stays in the clouds. How is the video in the clouds? I still don’t get technology sometimes.”

“The cloud,” a man called from inside. Peyton guessed it was Dani’s uncle Jorge. Miranda waved him off as if he could see her. Then she motioned for Peyton to follow her inside. “Jorge just installed one of those video doorbells. That’s how we knew you were here. I get a notification on my phone, and then I can look and see who’s setting off the motion detector.”

He stepped into the small foyer after her and brushed his shoes off on a rug that read “Mi Familia.”

My family.

His chest grew tight, but as soon as they stepped past the entryway and into the open living room/dining room/kitchen, he saw Dani stirring a pot at the stove, smiling at him over her shoulder. Next to her, sprinkling a green herb into the pot, was the tall, thin, gray-haired and gray-bearded man who’d kept Peyton from electrocuting himself last week. Uncle Jorge.

“We saw you on the doorbell cam,” she said.

Peyton nodded. “So

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