Mistletoe and Mr. Right (Moose Springs, Alaska #2) - Sarah Morgenthaler Page 0,6
took an awkward step back. Rick’s gaze flickered upward, and he froze, going an odd sort of pale. Lana followed his eyes to the sprig of mistletoe above her head. “Oh dear. That makes things awkward, doesn’t it?”
The poor man looked like a deer caught in headlights, so Lana helped the situation by scooting sideways, out from under the mistletoe.
“Well, I better take my seat,” she said.
“Do you need help?” Rick started to ask as she turned, juggling her off-balance coffees, but his helping hands only jostled them more. “Oh, sorry.”
He cursed when the closest coffee spilled on the sleeve of her coat. The poor man was so unsettled that when he grabbed some napkins from the table, dabbing them at her arm, he managed to pour coffee all over his own hand in the process.
“Are you okay?” Lana tried to check his hand, but Rick seemed more worried about her jacket.
“Shit, I’ll pay for cleaning that,” he said, mumbling as he kept dabbing at her coat.
“It’s nothing, Rick. Please don’t worry.” She waved off his attempts to de-coffee her clothing. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Naw.” Rick gripped his handful of coffee-soaked napkins. “I have thick arms. Skin. Arm skin. Damn, I don’t even know what I’m saying. Are you sure I didn’t burn you?”
“I promise.”
A teenager made the same mistake as Lana, opening the wrong door to come inside, and the plastic elves once again made a clatteringly loud break for freedom. Lana looked over at the noise, wincing in sympathy. Then she turned back to Rick.
He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else at that moment. Since Rick had saved her once, Lana was happy to save him in return, even if it meant denying herself his company.
Still, she couldn’t help giving him a flirty wink. “I’ll see you later, Rick. Watch out for that mistletoe.”
Lana returned to her seat before she could see his response, unloading her treats into her friends’ arms. As she settled back in her chair, Lana caught Rick glancing her way from his own seat, and she offered him a wave of her fingers. He nodded with a shadow of a smile before turning his attention to his cookie plate.
Graham draped his arm over Zoey’s shoulders, kicking one booted foot up on the chair in front of him. Ash had joined them, stretching her long legs out in front of her, ankles crossed and boot tapping against the leg of another chair. If the man sitting in front of her minded, he was smart enough not to say anything. Easton at least tried to contain his broad shoulders and long limbs, but it was an effort. The man climbed mountains for a living, and he was as tall and strong as a boulder himself.
“Were you talking to Rick?” Zoey looked up from her phone. “He’s the sweetest guy. We invited him over on Christmas Eve. He always spends it alone.”
“Which was a bad idea.” Graham glanced at her with an indulgent look.
“Why? He’s alone on Christmas. How is that okay?”
“Rick’s alone on Christmas because he wants to be alone on Christmas,” Ash added. “And he’s not alone. He’s with his nephew, Diego.”
“Which is basically the same as being alone,” Graham joked.
Lana knew who Diego was but only in the context of the Moose Springs Resort employee who grimaced when he forced pamphlets and granola bars on unsuspecting guests.
Zoey’s chin lifted a little, a signal she was digging her proverbial heels in. “No one wants to be alone on Christmas.”
“Unless they’ve attended a Montgomery holiday party, in which case they absolutely want to be alone on Christmas.” Lana shared a knowing look with her friend, who had suffered through more than one of said parties at Lana’s side.
Zoey shuddered. “Yes. Unless that.”
“All right, people. I have an announcement,” Officer Jonah said, his words barely denting the chatter in the room. “I know we were hoping to be free of—”
A group in the back row started snickering, oblivious to the meeting starting. Someone had procured a beach ball–sized plastic inflatable snow globe, and it was hard for anyone to focus on Jonah with the snow globe bouncing back and forth from one side of the seats to the other.
Finally, Easton stood up. At almost seven feet tall, he didn’t need to glare at the collected locals, and he didn’t need to yell to make everyone quiet down. Instead, he simply stood there, meeting people’s eyes until they naturally fell quiet and into order.