The Meaning in Mistletoe - Rachael Bloome Page 0,50

The sneaky sprig.”

Confused, Kat glanced up. Sure enough, a green sprig dotted with white berries dangled from the center of the chandelier.

Jack released a low, rumbling chuckle. “Gee, Bennet. I never thought of you as a woman who went back on her word.” His lips quirked in a teasing smile.

Of course he’d remember the silly promise she’d made the afternoon they’d collected mistletoe. And if they were alone, she just might break it a second time.

Kat wasn’t sure if she walked or floated back to the sitting room, but her heart had never been so full.

She sat next to Jack on the aptly named love seat while Elaine topped off everyone’s mulled wine.

“Since this is Kat’s first time joining us for our Christmas Wish tradition, we’ll let her go first,” Elaine began, beaming in her direction. “All you have to do is share one wish you’d like to come true before the end of the year.”

“Out loud?” Kat asked hesitantly. Weren’t you supposed to keep wishes a secret or else they wouldn’t come true?

“We don’t believe in silly superstitions,” Rich added with an air of authority. “Saying a wish out loud gives it power, like an affirmation.”

“Okay…” Still uncertain, Kat glanced at Jack.

He gave her a smile of encouragement.

“Let’s see…” She toyed with the stem of her glass. One of her wishes had already come true—about five minutes earlier, to be precise. So, she said the only other thing that came to mind. “I wish I could find a way to save Hope Hideaway from closing.”

“Hope Hideaway?” Elaine asked.

“It’s a women’s shelter where I work.” She chose not to add that it was also where she lived, not wanting to arouse too many questions.

“It’s on the verge of closing?” Rich repeated for clarification.

Jack shifted by her side but remained silent.

“It is, unfortunately. We lost two of our top donors several months ago.” Everyone stared at her with open concern bordering on pity, and Kat sank further into the cushions, wishing she’d never mentioned it. “I’m sure something will work out, though.”

Jack squirmed as though a feather from one of the down throw pillows was sticking in his side.

“How are you sure?” Rich prodded. “Do you have a plan of action in place?”

“Um…” Kat glanced at Jack again.

He stared into his glass, his jaw firmly clenched.

“Let’s move on,” he muttered. “Who’s next?”

“Hold on a minute.” Rich stood and set down his drink. “How much do you need?”

“I—I beg your pardon?” Kat stammered, heat creeping up her neck.

“Money. How much money does the shelter need to stay open?”

To her surprise, he pulled a leather-bound checkbook from inside his suit jacket.

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Nonsense.” He slipped a Montblanc pen from the same pocket and flipped the checkbook open. “It isn’t every Christmas we can make someone’s wish come true. This time, we have the means to help and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Now, how much do you need?”

Kat heard Jack grind his teeth by her side, but she felt trapped. “I don’t know,” she murmured helplessly.

“Never mind, then. This should be enough.” Rich scribbled a number on the check before tearing it off and handing it to her.

Her cheeks colored at the substantial number of zeros. “Thank you.” Her words sounded more like a question than a statement, but Rich didn’t seem to notice as he slipped his checkbook and pen back into his pocket.

“Who’s next? Tonight, I’m in the business of granting wishes.”

Everyone chuckled. Except for Jack.

When she braved another glance, his features were set in hard, grim lines.

And although he sat right next to her, he’d never felt so far away.

Chapter 25

His heart pounding, Jack bounded down the front steps two at a time before quickly crossing the driveway in long, determined strides.

Although the bitter night air burned the back of his throat, he filled his lungs, his chest rising and falling faster with each agitated breath.

Sitting through the remainder of his family’s Christmas tradition had been agony. Ever since his father whipped out his checkbook, Jack hadn’t been able to think straight. Even replaying the incident in his mind caused his muscles to tense.

He tried to muster a smile as he held the passenger door open for Kat, but his lips remained firmly pressed in a thin crease.

For several miles, they drove in deafening silence.

Jack kept his gaze on the dark, misty road ahead.

After a while, icy raindrops pinged against the windshield until they increased in intensity, compelling Jack to flip on the wipers.

The swish, swish