The Mistletoe Kisser - Lucy Score Page 0,64
took control of the microphone.
Amethyst buried her face in her hands in the front row, and Sammy wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or something worse.
“People of Blue Moon, I have a confession to make. I, Town Supervisor Bruce Oakleigh, head of the Beautification Committee, strayed from my committed relationship.”
The indrawn gasps of so many Blue Mooners created a breeze in the theater.
“Yes. It’s true. I was swayed by a newer, shinier temptation.”
“There is no way he’s talking about a woman,” Sammy said.
“Five bucks says he took his car to a different car wash and can’t live with the guilt,” Carter guessed.
“You’re both wrong,” Ryan informed them.
Bruce moved on, wig still crooked, expression still penitent. “You see, after years of being loyal cable customers, I made the decision to try… a streaming service.” He paused as if waiting for more gasps from the crowd.
“It takes him a while to get to his point. You might want to recap it for us,” Sammy suggested to Ryan.
“He tasked Amethyst with keeping the records and filing the paperwork for the state,” he began.
“Then he bought her a Hulu subscription for her birthday,” Gia added from the row in front of them. “Nice to see you again, Ryan.”
“Hey, Gia,” he said.
“How do you guys know each other?” Sammy asked, wondering if she’d stumbled into some kind of alternate reality.
“We’re old friends,” Gia whispered.
“So Amethyst went on some massive TV show binge-watch,” Ryan said, picking up the thread again.
“Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” Mason supplied. “Cheers.”
“Cheers. Team Spike,” Sammy whispered, downing the contents of her Dixie cup.
“Hard agree,” Gia said.
“Mama, who’s Spike?” Aurora asked in a loud whisper.
“I’ll tell you when you’re a teenager,” Gia promised.
“Aww, man.” The little girl’s lower lip poked out in a pout.
Beckett returned to the podium and said something in Bruce’s ear.
“I’m being told by our valiant mayor that I should get to my point,” Bruce announced. “The state didn’t receive our reporting because we never completed it. There is no reporting to send. So the state is sending an auditor. It’s very likely that our funding will be revoked, our homes will be foreclosed upon, our property taxes will skyrocket, our children will grow up toothless with no education, and we’ll be forced to sell our wigs on eBay.”
On a dramatic wail, Bruce buried his face in his hands.
“He seems really attached to those wigs,” Ryan observed.
The theater was deathly silent for five whole seconds before the rumblings started.
“I’ve got a spare kidney we could sell,” someone offered.
“What about a bake sale?” Charisma Carpenter shouted.
“What if we kidnap the auditor—”
“No! There will be no kidnapping or abducting or organ harvesting,” Beckett said into the microphone.
He handed Bruce over to a very annoyed-looking Rainbow Berkowicz, who patted the sobbing man on the head and looked at her watch.
Fitz, in a cropped wooly sweater that showed an unfortunate amount of belly hair, jumped up from his seat. “Does this mean the apocalypse is back on?”
“That guy has a bunker,” Ryan whispered to Sammy.
“He also terrorizes bachelorette parties as an exotic dancer. How do you know all this?” she asked.
He shrugged and helped himself to more of her popcorn. “I get around.”
“No,” Beckett announced into the microphone. “The apocalypse is not back on.”
“What apocalypse?” Ryan asked.
“We had a teeny tiny issue with Uranus in October,” she told him.
He frowned. “Whose anus?”
“I wore Gene Simmons Kiss makeup to my wedding,” Mason interjected.
“Joey got bangs. Eva got pregnant. Half the town ended up incarcerated in the high school gym,” Sammy said. “It was a whole thing.”
Ryan leaned in closer this time. His knee pressing firmly against hers, lips just a millimeter from the tender skin of her ear lobe. She went from mildly concerned about current events to frantically concerned with the thrumming pulse that had started between her thighs. “You’re fucking with me aren’t you?” he whispered against her ear.
“You wish,” she shot back.
21
Ryan couldn’t decide if she was joking or not. Then decided it didn’t matter because in Blue Moon, anything was possible. But he liked the way the topic made her eyes light up, her lips curve.
Great. Now he was thinking about her mouth again. Which made him think about their kiss yesterday. Which made him think of what else they could have been doing in addition to more kissing. Which made him hard. Again.
“What does all this mean?” called a tall man with an Afro in the back.
“Yeah. Are our kids really gonna be toothless?” asked a woman in a