The Mistletoe Kisser - Lucy Score Page 0,63
to a handful before returning the bag to her.
He was in his farm store jeans and a thermal shirt. Stubble darkened his jawline and his hair was carelessly tousled. The tiny echo of a girlhood crush on Carter Pierce was eclipsed by a rush of white, hot adult lust.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He took the empty seat next to her and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “I was making a run for office supplies and saw the crowd and the marquis. I’ve never been to a town meeting before and figured it might be entertaining.”
“That sounds very unlike you,” she pointed out, enjoying the nearness of him. He smelled like expensive shampoo, crisp winter air, and Sharpie marker.
He snagged the bag from her and helped himself to more popcorn. “You could say that about everything in the last forty-eight hours.”
“I take it you don’t have good news on Carson’s situation since you’re still here and not watching Pitch Perfect 2 somewhere over the Dakotas right now?”
“Things are unfolding,” he said cryptically, his knee nudging hers in the confined space. “What about you? You left the pizza place like your ass was on fire.”
“My ass was fine. I just had things to do,” she said.
“What did you do to your hair?” he asked, eyeing it.
On reflex, she patted the fluffy curls. “Uh. Washed it,” she said.
“Looks nice,” he said. He leaned in a little closer. “Smells nice too.”
Her toes curled under in her boots, and her internal temperature rose five degrees at the compliment.
“Mind if I sit?” Mason Smith, Ellery’s husband and town accountant, appeared next to Ryan.
“Help yourself,” Ryan said. “Want some popcorn?”
“Trade you popcorn for whiskey,” Mason offered, holding up a flask wrapped in black leather emblazoned with a skull.
“Deal,” Ryan agreed.
Mason dug out a short stack of Dixie cups from his coat pocket and had just started to pour when the Darth Vader theme blasted from the theater’s speakers.
Sammy smothered a laugh. Bruce Oakleigh felt that Mayor Beckett Pierce’s entrance to town meetings needed to be more dignified. The soundtrack was constantly changing and always entertaining.
She stole a glance at Ryan. He looked more intrigued than perturbed and she wondered if he was getting over his disdain for small-town life.
“Cheers,” Mason said, distributing cups to Sammy and Ryan.
“Cheers,” they echoed.
As Sammy sipped a truly delicious peanut butter whiskey, Mayor Beckett Pierce, in a suit and a God-awful powdered wig, took the stage. He was followed by Rainbow Berkowicz, Bruce Oakleigh, Elvira Eustace, and Taneisha’s mom, Julissa. All wearing similar wigs.
Ryan leaned into her space, and Sammy swooned a little on the inside. “What’s with the wigs?” he asked, his breath tickling her ear.
“Trust me, you don’t have the time for the full story.”
He didn’t pull all the way back, she noticed. In fact, he rested his arm on the back of her seat.
“I’m going to keep this short,” Beckett said into the microphone. “I know everyone is busy with the holidays and the Solstice preparations. But it’s been brought to my attention that a state auditor will be arriving on Christmas Eve to investigate Blue Moon.”
A murmur went up in the crowd.
“What the hell does that mean?” Sammy asked.
“Oh, just wait,” Ryan said in her ear. His nose brushed her ear lobe, and she almost dropped the popcorn on the floor.
She knocked back the remaining contents of her Dixie cup and sternly reminded herself that she was not going to climb into Grumpy Ryan’s lap during a town meeting.
“Due to unforeseen circumstances,” Beckett said, “our reporting to the state was… disrupted.”
She wasn’t sure if she imagined it or if Beckett really was glaring at Bruce.
Mason poured another round. “We’re all going to need this,” he whispered.
Flask Mason was pretty fun, she thought.
“The state is missing the records of how Blue Moon used its funding from June through December this year, and a thorough investigation will commence immediately. I take full responsibility for the situation, but I need your help in mitigating the damage.”
“Why is Bruce sweating like a hairy guy in a sauna?” Sammy asked.
“Because it’s his fault,” Ryan told her.
“No!” Bruce exploded out of his seat, his wig slipping over an eye and an ear. “I can’t let you take responsibility for my unforgivable error, Mr. Mayor.”
“How do you know what’s happening?” she asked Ryan with suspicion.
He shrugged and helped himself to more popcorn in her lap. “It’s a small town. Everyone knows everything.”
Bruce elbowed Beckett out of the way and