The Meaning in Mistletoe - Rachael Bloome Page 0,12
that fit her like a glove—including a pair of caramel-colored driving gloves in the softest suede imaginable.
While boisterous Christmas music played in the background, she tried on various ensembles, posing in front of a large gilded mirror. Penny even brought over a plate of sugar cookies and scrumptious tea, nibbling on the refreshments while she added snippets of commentary on each outfit as though they were in a movie montage.
In the merriment, all of Kat’s self-conscious reservations slipped away, and she hardly recognized her cheerful, glowing complexion reflected back at her.
How was it possible that she’d barely met this woman and already felt as though they’d known each other their entire lives?
And how could she keep their unexpected bond from growing any stronger?
Before someone got hurt.
Keeping one eye on the front door, Jack scrubbed the wraparound bar for the hundredth time. If he wasn’t careful, he’d rub the shellac right off and wouldn’t be able to slide the old-fashioned soda glasses across the counter with the same level of ease.
Every time the door hinges creaked, his heart catapulted into his throat. And every time someone entered the diner who wasn’t Kat, it plummeted into his stomach.
Even in the midst of stalking the entrance, he found his level of interest baffling. It wasn’t as if he had feelings for the woman. He’d known her for a grand total of ten seconds. But the truth was, no one had affected him as strongly since his ex.
Ashley Tanner had flipped his world upside down the moment she’d walked into it in sixth grade. More like sashayed into it. She’d possessed a level of confidence most girls her age couldn’t even fathom. And yet, she wasn’t arrogant or condescending. Her kindness had attracted him as much as her ink-black eyes and full lips perpetually poised on the edge of a smile. Completely captivated by her charm, he would have done anything for her—except abandon Poppy Creek and all of his principles.
The door burst open, letting in a rush of cold air, and Jack’s gaze once again darted toward the latest arrival.
Disappointment mixed with dread as Mayor Burns strode inside as though stepping out of a Wall Street board meeting. Dressed in a slick cashmere coat, Burberry scarf, and leather gloves, the man certainly wasn’t subtle. In fact, in Jack’s opinion, he exemplified the expression big fish in a small pond. It wouldn’t have bothered Jack if the mayor didn’t seem so determined to expand his swimming hole.
“Jack! Just the man I wanted to see.” Burns plastered on a smarmy smile.
“What can I get for you today, Mayor?” The man never actually sat down to eat in Jack’s establishment. Probably for fear the diner’s tasteless decor would taint his designer duds. But he wasn’t above ordering takeout on a regular basis.
“Nothing today. I just came by to tell you about the Christmas Carnival we’re hosting this year. You weren’t at the town meeting.” His last sentence carried a hint of censure.
Jack suppressed a groan. He’d purposely stopped going to the meetings because he found the mayor’s relentless schemes to increase tourism tiring.
But he’d heard about the latest marketing effort through the rumor mill. Burns wanted to hold a huge holiday extravaganza inviting all the neighboring towns to participate. At the end of the night, he’d grandiosely bestow an award for the best holiday display—probably as an excuse to give another one of his famously verbose speeches.
All well and good until he’d wanted to replace the long-standing tradition of Pajama Christmas—which Burns deemed trite and childish—but he’d been overruled, thankfully. Instead, he’d moved the event to Christmas Day. Or rather, the evening of Christmas Day, claiming the carnival would be the perfect way to close out the holiday.
“I’ve heard about it,” Jack told him, trying to keep his mounting irritation from creeping into his voice.
“Wonderful! Then I don’t need to tell you that I expect your display to be done as soon as possible.”
“My display?” He’d assumed participation was optional. He didn’t have time to put out a potted poinsettia let alone organize an elaborate storefront display.
Burns sighed heavily. “Jack, I shouldn’t have to impress upon you the importance of town-wide cooperation. We’re a community. And as such, it’s important we all participate. Don’t tell me you’re short on Christmas spirit this year?”
Jack bristled. This wasn’t the first time they’d butted heads. Burns had been pestering him for years to “revitalize” the diner, as he put it. He made it sound like Jack’s restaurant was a