by: Angie Ellington
Genre: Contemporary Holiday Romance
Release Date: September 15, 2020
Publisher: Calico Paw Books
Amazon | Paperback | Goodreads
Settle in with your favorite cup of cocoa and a warm blanket for this swoony holiday romance that includes a peppermint festival and characters that are sure to warm your heart this Christmas.
Deals require negotiations, but for Cole Stevens, this could be the riskiest deal of his lifetime. Holland Jenkins has been disappointed so often that she questions her purpose and her talent as an artist. The cabins she helps lease for her family is the one constant in her life. Birch Falls' small town peppermint festival is quickly approaching. As Holland is preparing ornaments for her booth, she's in search of inspiration, even if she won't admit it.
Cole has a deal to close, and after a little unexpected change in route, he decides to rent a cabin at Mistletoe Ridge. Cole finds himself falling for the charming small town, and also falling for Holland, which wasn't part of the plan.
Holland doesn't know about her grandparents' plans to sell Mistletoe Ridge, and although they think they are doing it for the right reasons, keeping it a secret has all involved reconsidering.
Perhaps, a dash of ginger, a sprinkle of sugar, and a little magic can make their Christmas wishes come true.
Includes a recipe for Chicken Parmesan
Holland Jenkins hummed while leaning over a table carved from an old oak tree. When it had to come down earlier in the year after a lightning strike, she'd hired a neighbor to repurpose part of it into a work bench for her art, and a coffee table for the cabin she now shared with her mother. Memories of simpler days had flooded her mind when she'd discovered the top half toppled on the ground. She'd spent her childhood skipping around that tree, blowing bubbles from a wand, and swinging from an old roped tire swing. Recollections of her father pushing her gently and telling her to bend and kick as she gained momentum had swarmed her mind like bees around the sweetest flower in spring. Although those days were far from reach now, having a part of that old oak tree near her fused sadness to solace during the darker times when her family missed her dad more than they could bear.
With precision, she placed a glass ornament along the corner of the table. It was the fifth one she'd painted that day. Waltzing behind the rental desk of Mistletoe Ridge Cabins, she nabbed her cell phone to take a picture of her works in progress. She'd add it to her portfolio; the one she kept on the coffee table. Once her pride and joy to show off her budding art career, it now lie encased by a thin later of dust and unseen by anyone other than her and her mother in some time. She stepped closer toward the door to capture the messy, yet inspiring aesthetic of brushes and paints, with white glass ornaments and ceramic angels. She snapped a photo of her designs for the upcoming Peppermint in the Park Festival. It was now one of the few occasions when she'd share her talents with others. Turning on her heel, she stepped backward, arching back to frame another shot. As she did, a door creaked open behind her, ushering in blustering winds. A misstep left her floundering. Both she and the ornament were propelled into a downward dive with the velocity of an Olympic swimmer. However, there would be no gold medal, unless awards were given for clumsiness, and which shattered more, Holland, her phone, or the ornament.
Crashing into a stranger's grasp, Holland reached for the arms that suspended her body from the hardened floor, as her phone tumbled through the air, landing on a bear-patterned rug. She and the guest surveyed each other for a moment. Storm blue eyes and thick brows stole her breath, as a buttoned shirt of matching blue highlighted his olive skin. She remained in a horizontal swoop, as a warm smile emerged from the stranger's lips. The rolling ornament came to a stop at their feet, breaking their unintended embrace.
“Oh, no!” Holland gasped. Disappointment clouded her jade eyes. “My ornament!” She rushed to pick it up, kneeling onto the floor.
Cole Stevens followed suit, offering assistance. “I'm so sorry. Let me pay you for it,” he offered.
Holland shot him a frosty look. Cradling the ornament inside of her palms, she marched behind the counter. Inspecting the symmetrical crack once more, she whisked a clean paintbrush over the area to free tiny chips of glass into a trash can. Wrapping the piece of cloth around it, she secured the ornament in a gold decorative box. It would be easy to fix with some epoxy and her trusted glue gun. This wasn't her first rodeo. She relaxed over the registration book, giving him a once-over.
Cole approached the counter slowly. He lifted his chin, grimacing. His mind scrambled for words. “I'm assuming you made those ornaments.” He rolled his shoulders back, as if pressing the start button to an engine after a failed first attempt.
Holland glared at him. “Yes, I was waiting for the paint to dry.” Her expression softened. “It's cracked, but not broken.”
She glanced up to meet his apologetic eyes, setting her at ease. “I'll touch it up with my glue gun in a minute. It's not your fault. I usually don't do my side work in the front entrance.”
Cole fiddled with an ink pen with a rubber bird rocking back and forth on the top. He hadn't expected to stay in a cabin, but he was fine with that. Keeping the real reason he was in town was awkward, but nothing he hadn't dealt with before. Having a woman with eyes the shade of an emerald and peachy skin tumble into his arms was not something he'd had a plan for. He let out a breath he hadn't realized had stalled in his lungs. “What was the design you had painted? It looked like a dog from my brief glance.”
“A Golden Retriever's face to match my grandparents' dog, Sassy.” Holland straightened her shoulders and forced a smile. “My favorite ornament of the batch, but it was for personal use anyway.”
Cole bowed his head. “I really couldn't feel worse. How can I make it up to you? By the way, I'm Cole. Cole Stevens,” he said, his eyes rapt on her face.
“Holland,” she replied, tracking his gaze over her. She relaxed her posture. “I'm the leasing agent for Mistletoe Ridge Cabins. My grandparents, Walter and Lila Jenkins, own the property. Are you looking for a cabin to rent?” She reached for the pen, brushing against his fingers.
“I am,” he said, prickles running up his arm from her touch. He released the pen. “The hotel I was planning to stay at is all booked up for the week, and I'd heard someone speak of your property at a gas station a few miles back.” He raked his fingers through his brown hair. He was used to thinking on his feet and going incognito when he checked out properties being considered by the investment firm he worked for. “I'm meeting a colleague in the one street greeting card I just drove through and thought I'd check you out.” His muscles tightened. “The cabins, that is,” he stammered. “Check out the cabins... to see if any are available.” Cole drummed his fingers on the counter; Is this a speed round of Jeopardy? I'm sinking fast into this pit of quicksand.
Holland's green eyes brightened. “Is that so?” She cracked a grin. She had doubts that a man of Cole's athletic build outlined by the beginnings of a stubbly beard and dark hair thick enough to envy had any trouble speaking to women. Her cheeks plumped up with a wide smile. Seeing him fumble over his words almost made up for the ornament. Not entirely, but it did help. Considering they'd had a cancellation and two other cabins that weren't scheduled to be occupied for another two days, she needed this booking for her grandparents. Truth be told, reservations had been on the decline since the first of October when they'd held the Pumpkin Palooza harvest festival on their property. With the upcoming festival in Birch Falls on Christmas Eve, she'd hoped they'd be booked solid all week.
The new hotel a short drive away was plunked down in the middle of a town no bigger than Birch Falls, and yet boasted the accommodations of a luxury resort. She'd been told a man with looks and charm of a Hollywood star had cozied up to the land owners in Poplar Creek when they'd had last minute concerns and schmoozed them into selling. Rumor had it that the realtor handling the sale was inexperienced and some firm's heavy hitting henchman had sealed the deal. The town's proximity to a popular vineyard and a few more enticing tourist attractions had made Poplar Creek into a resort destination, and although Birch Falls had managed to ride on their coattails for some additional tourism, Mistletoe Ridge was slowly losing out to modern conveniences that they weren't set up to, and didn't want to compete with.
It was hard to promote cabins with coffee rather than a mini bar over suites with hot tubs, a steakhouse in the ground level, and a day spa. This time of year, the Jenkins' simply couldn't compete. Winter activities weren't as prevalent in Birch Falls, and at Mistletoe Ridge, most guests had preferred going rustic. Finding those who still preferred simplicity over luxury had become increasingly challenging.
“We do happen to have one cabin available. Last minute cancellation. This weekend is the Peppermint in the Park Festival here in Birch Falls. It's the fifth annual event, and each year draws a larger crowd than the last.” She hoped that would be true this year, but lack of rentals weren't as reassuring. “The ornaments are for the festival. I will have a booth for my pottery and ceramic designs. It's a hobby of mine.” Her words felt hollow. She loved her work. “One that takes more time than a hobby really should, but I do enjoy making them.” Holland pulled out the rental book and pushed the tip of the pen. “I'll just need your information. Rental is seventy-five dollars per night, but reduces to sixty-five for a minimum stay of three nights.”
Holland's grandmother, Lila, entered from the next room. “Hello, there. I do hope you're planning on staying through the weekend. You don't want to miss our delightful festival.”
Holland looked from her grandmother back to find Cole's angular jaw held open by a smile. The kind of smile somewhere between confident and cocky; the type of smile you can't force yourself to turn away from. The kind that's capable of stopping traffic. And those eyes. It was as if they were purposely absorbing the light from the metallic snowflakes floating inside the snow globe on the counter.
“She has the hearing of a cat,” Holland said softly.
Lila picked up the chipped ornament, cradling it in her hand. “I heard that, also,” she quipped.
Cole's smile widened to reveal a pearly gleam. He surveyed the room, and the Christmas tree in the corner. “This is one of those towns with a charming Main Street and a bakery with sugar cookies and the whole shebang isn't it? A peppermint festival? I saw the tree in the center of the town with more lights strung over it than the the one in Union Square where I live in San Fran. I'm not sure if I can handle that much Christmas. I'm not much into holidays anymore. I'm on the road too much to stop and smell the...cocoa--or what have you.”
“We can change that. You don't spend Christmas with your family?” Lila asked with a crackle in her soft voice as she approached the counter.
“Nana. That's personal,” Holland said with a sharp nod of her chin.
“It's fine. My parents now live in Tulsa, and I rarely make it home for Christmas. When I do, it's usually for about two days. I spend more time in hotels during the holidays than my condo in California.”
“What brings you to Birch Falls? We're not exactly a bustling city, ” Lila inquired.
“Excuse my grandmother. She doesn't believe in boundaries.” Holland touched her grandmother's frail shoulder gently and gave her a little squeeze.
“I'm-,” Cole hesitated. “I'm here to assist a colleague on a project. I won't bore you with the boring intricacies of numbers and flow charts.”
“Well, whatever brought you to our little piece of Heaven, we're glad you're here,” Lila said, with a grin.
“I appreciate that,” Cole replied. Although time had hollowed her cheeks, the sparkle in her ice blue eyes was jubilant and youthful.
“Enjoy your stay with us, young man. A handsome fella like you shouldn't be spending Christmas alone.” Lila darted her eyes over to Holland as a smile poured over her face. “My granddaughter's single, you know.”
“Nana!” Holland's eyes went wide. “Don't you need to go check on the boxes for the ornaments?”
“Yes, I do,” Lila replied, with a tickled expression. “When do you meet with your colleague?”
“Umm, I'm hoping to meet with him tomorrow. I was planning to stay two nights, but if there's a discount, and perhaps a decent cup of coffee nearby, I'll go ahead and make it three.” His eyes shifted toward Holland. “I'm not sure I can stay long enough for the Peppermint in the Square festival. I have to get my work done and catch a plane to Louisiana. I've got complimentary tickets to an NFL bowl game the day after Christmas.”
Holland shrugged. “Peppermint in the Park,” she corrected with a chuckle. “You don't know what you're missing Mr. Stevens.” Holland felt her heartbeat fasten. “Three nights it is. Here is your key. It's the cabin two doors down that says 'Bluegrass Bungalow' on the sign mounted next to the door.” She jangled the key attached to a hummingbird key chain.
Cole took the key, and as he touched her hand, his insides warmed. “It's Cole. Not Mr. Stevens.” He noticed there wasn't a wedding ring on her finger. His muscles began to relax and he pulled his shoulders back. “I'll figure out a way to make up my entrance to you, Miss Jenkins. I can't replace the ornament, but I'll figure out something if you won't let me pay you for it.” His eyes implored her.
Holland bumped against a chair, losing her footing. She rubbed her hands over her thighs, finding comfort in the softness of her red plaid leggings. “It's Okay,” she managed to say. “Just promise that when you come back in, you'll use the doorbell next time, so I can move away from the door.” She slid a hand onto one hip.
Lila rubbed her granddaughter's back. “Holland makes a wonderful tour guide if you find some free time while you're here.” She waved her hand, exiting the room.
Cole pointed toward the table of ornaments. “I really am sorry about your ornament, Holland.”
He picked up a ceramic ornament of an angel and rubbed his fingers over it, observing the intricate details of the rounded edges and curved lines. He placed it down gently, eyes shifting over the painted glass designs, and he turned to Holland. “These are beautiful, and you're very talented. Wrap me up one of your designs before I check out. I'll pay you double for it.”
Holland moved from behind the counter, inching closer to Cole. “You don't have to do that. I'll move my work bench to the back corner away from the door and the wind. I should've known better.” She tugged at her black sweater.
Cole's eyes followed her features. He'd dreaded this trip, but saying no to his boss was something he rarely did. Acquisitions didn't allow for personal connections. Perhaps this unexpected stay could be kind of fun if he spent more time around Holland. She was definitely not the usual type of woman he encountered with her blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail, neutral makeup, and a little sparkle to her skin courtesy of glitter she'd been using. He couldn't forget why he was here, but steering clear of Holland Jenkins wouldn't be easy. Even in casual mode, her beauty was hypnotic.
Holland's hand fell from her hip, as she placed one foot behind the other, leaning back on one heel. She forced a slowed breath. “Do you need me to walk you to your cabin or call for a bellman?” She gave him a coy smile. The sooner he would leave, the sooner she could forget their less than graceful meeting.
Cole slowly toyed with the key in his hand, as he waited for her eyes to follow his fingers, confident that they would. His lips parted. A wry smile filled in across his lips. “I think I can manage.”
Cole reached for the silver doorknob, taking in the view of the room and the Christmas tree decorated in the corner. “Nice tree. This place has a cool rugged appeal. I'm kind of digging it.” He chuckled and turned the knob. “Nice to meet you, Holland. It's not every day that a woman falls into my arms, and catching you was the highlight of this otherwise lousy day.”
“Glad it's turning around for you. I guess we're both having bad luck today.”
“I hate the ornament cracked, but I guess it's a matter of perspective in the rest. The ornament can be repaired. You didn't have a collision on the floor, but landing in my arms? I can think of worse things. I'll be sure to leave a review of our introduction on Yelp,” he chuckled and held up the keys. He dragged his hawkish gaze away, tugging the door open, and breezily ambled away.
Holland shrugged as her cheeks pinked up like the sugariest part of cotton candy. She raced over to the large window, craning her neck for one last glimpse of the handsome newcomer. The gray curtains Lila had sewn years before held by sashes provided for her view. She whipped her body in a semi-circle against the pewter colored wall, narrowly avoiding being seen when he took a sharp turn in the driveway as if expecting her stare. She closed her eyes and let out her breath. She pushed away from the wall, opening her eyes. She rolled her shoulders back and adjusted her hair tie. She picked up a paintbrush, as her eyes drifted over to the guest book sitting on the counter. She twitched her jaw and scanned the room before walking over to the guest book to read Cole's information. “Nice handwriting,” she said aloud. “What am I doing?” She let out her breath and walked away from the counter toward her work bench. She began humming to a Christmas song playing from the radio in her adjacent mini studio.
Lila peered around the doorway from the studio, and watched her granddaughter as she hummed and painted. After she set an ornament down, Lila approached. “Cole seems like a nice young man. I think you should show him around Birch Falls while he's in town. Give him a little taste of our holiday spirit.”
“He's a guest, Nana,” Holland replied. “I don't get involved with guests.”
“I said nothing of getting involved. A little hospitality in the form of a tour around town would be a nice gesture, is all. It is Christmas.”
“Sure, Nana. I'll think about it.”
**ALL CONTAINED IS COPYRIGHTED BY ANGIE ELLINGTON/CALICO PAW BOOKS & SHOULD NOT BE SHARED NOR DISTRIBUTED OR ALTERED IN ANY WAY.**
With precision, she placed a glass ornament along the corner of the table. It was the fifth one she'd painted that day. Waltzing behind the rental desk of Mistletoe Ridge Cabins, she nabbed her cell phone to take a picture of her works in progress. She'd add it to her portfolio; the one she kept on the coffee table. Once her pride and joy to show off her budding art career, it now lie encased by a thin later of dust and unseen by anyone other than her and her mother in some time. She stepped closer toward the door to capture the messy, yet inspiring aesthetic of brushes and paints, with white glass ornaments and ceramic angels. She snapped a photo of her designs for the upcoming Peppermint in the Park Festival. It was now one of the few occasions when she'd share her talents with others. Turning on her heel, she stepped backward, arching back to frame another shot. As she did, a door creaked open behind her, ushering in blustering winds. A misstep left her floundering. Both she and the ornament were propelled into a downward dive with the velocity of an Olympic swimmer. However, there would be no gold medal, unless awards were given for clumsiness, and which shattered more, Holland, her phone, or the ornament.
Crashing into a stranger's grasp, Holland reached for the arms that suspended her body from the hardened floor, as her phone tumbled through the air, landing on a bear-patterned rug. She and the guest surveyed each other for a moment. Storm blue eyes and thick brows stole her breath, as a buttoned shirt of matching blue highlighted his olive skin. She remained in a horizontal swoop, as a warm smile emerged from the stranger's lips. The rolling ornament came to a stop at their feet, breaking their unintended embrace.
“Oh, no!” Holland gasped. Disappointment clouded her jade eyes. “My ornament!” She rushed to pick it up, kneeling onto the floor.
Cole Stevens followed suit, offering assistance. “I'm so sorry. Let me pay you for it,” he offered.
Holland shot him a frosty look. Cradling the ornament inside of her palms, she marched behind the counter. Inspecting the symmetrical crack once more, she whisked a clean paintbrush over the area to free tiny chips of glass into a trash can. Wrapping the piece of cloth around it, she secured the ornament in a gold decorative box. It would be easy to fix with some epoxy and her trusted glue gun. This wasn't her first rodeo. She relaxed over the registration book, giving him a once-over.
Cole approached the counter slowly. He lifted his chin, grimacing. His mind scrambled for words. “I'm assuming you made those ornaments.” He rolled his shoulders back, as if pressing the start button to an engine after a failed first attempt.
Holland glared at him. “Yes, I was waiting for the paint to dry.” Her expression softened. “It's cracked, but not broken.”
She glanced up to meet his apologetic eyes, setting her at ease. “I'll touch it up with my glue gun in a minute. It's not your fault. I usually don't do my side work in the front entrance.”
Cole fiddled with an ink pen with a rubber bird rocking back and forth on the top. He hadn't expected to stay in a cabin, but he was fine with that. Keeping the real reason he was in town was awkward, but nothing he hadn't dealt with before. Having a woman with eyes the shade of an emerald and peachy skin tumble into his arms was not something he'd had a plan for. He let out a breath he hadn't realized had stalled in his lungs. “What was the design you had painted? It looked like a dog from my brief glance.”
“A Golden Retriever's face to match my grandparents' dog, Sassy.” Holland straightened her shoulders and forced a smile. “My favorite ornament of the batch, but it was for personal use anyway.”
Cole bowed his head. “I really couldn't feel worse. How can I make it up to you? By the way, I'm Cole. Cole Stevens,” he said, his eyes rapt on her face.
“Holland,” she replied, tracking his gaze over her. She relaxed her posture. “I'm the leasing agent for Mistletoe Ridge Cabins. My grandparents, Walter and Lila Jenkins, own the property. Are you looking for a cabin to rent?” She reached for the pen, brushing against his fingers.
“I am,” he said, prickles running up his arm from her touch. He released the pen. “The hotel I was planning to stay at is all booked up for the week, and I'd heard someone speak of your property at a gas station a few miles back.” He raked his fingers through his brown hair. He was used to thinking on his feet and going incognito when he checked out properties being considered by the investment firm he worked for. “I'm meeting a colleague in the one street greeting card I just drove through and thought I'd check you out.” His muscles tightened. “The cabins, that is,” he stammered. “Check out the cabins... to see if any are available.” Cole drummed his fingers on the counter; Is this a speed round of Jeopardy? I'm sinking fast into this pit of quicksand.
Holland's green eyes brightened. “Is that so?” She cracked a grin. She had doubts that a man of Cole's athletic build outlined by the beginnings of a stubbly beard and dark hair thick enough to envy had any trouble speaking to women. Her cheeks plumped up with a wide smile. Seeing him fumble over his words almost made up for the ornament. Not entirely, but it did help. Considering they'd had a cancellation and two other cabins that weren't scheduled to be occupied for another two days, she needed this booking for her grandparents. Truth be told, reservations had been on the decline since the first of October when they'd held the Pumpkin Palooza harvest festival on their property. With the upcoming festival in Birch Falls on Christmas Eve, she'd hoped they'd be booked solid all week.
The new hotel a short drive away was plunked down in the middle of a town no bigger than Birch Falls, and yet boasted the accommodations of a luxury resort. She'd been told a man with looks and charm of a Hollywood star had cozied up to the land owners in Poplar Creek when they'd had last minute concerns and schmoozed them into selling. Rumor had it that the realtor handling the sale was inexperienced and some firm's heavy hitting henchman had sealed the deal. The town's proximity to a popular vineyard and a few more enticing tourist attractions had made Poplar Creek into a resort destination, and although Birch Falls had managed to ride on their coattails for some additional tourism, Mistletoe Ridge was slowly losing out to modern conveniences that they weren't set up to, and didn't want to compete with.
It was hard to promote cabins with coffee rather than a mini bar over suites with hot tubs, a steakhouse in the ground level, and a day spa. This time of year, the Jenkins' simply couldn't compete. Winter activities weren't as prevalent in Birch Falls, and at Mistletoe Ridge, most guests had preferred going rustic. Finding those who still preferred simplicity over luxury had become increasingly challenging.
“We do happen to have one cabin available. Last minute cancellation. This weekend is the Peppermint in the Park Festival here in Birch Falls. It's the fifth annual event, and each year draws a larger crowd than the last.” She hoped that would be true this year, but lack of rentals weren't as reassuring. “The ornaments are for the festival. I will have a booth for my pottery and ceramic designs. It's a hobby of mine.” Her words felt hollow. She loved her work. “One that takes more time than a hobby really should, but I do enjoy making them.” Holland pulled out the rental book and pushed the tip of the pen. “I'll just need your information. Rental is seventy-five dollars per night, but reduces to sixty-five for a minimum stay of three nights.”
Holland's grandmother, Lila, entered from the next room. “Hello, there. I do hope you're planning on staying through the weekend. You don't want to miss our delightful festival.”
Holland looked from her grandmother back to find Cole's angular jaw held open by a smile. The kind of smile somewhere between confident and cocky; the type of smile you can't force yourself to turn away from. The kind that's capable of stopping traffic. And those eyes. It was as if they were purposely absorbing the light from the metallic snowflakes floating inside the snow globe on the counter.
“She has the hearing of a cat,” Holland said softly.
Lila picked up the chipped ornament, cradling it in her hand. “I heard that, also,” she quipped.
Cole's smile widened to reveal a pearly gleam. He surveyed the room, and the Christmas tree in the corner. “This is one of those towns with a charming Main Street and a bakery with sugar cookies and the whole shebang isn't it? A peppermint festival? I saw the tree in the center of the town with more lights strung over it than the the one in Union Square where I live in San Fran. I'm not sure if I can handle that much Christmas. I'm not much into holidays anymore. I'm on the road too much to stop and smell the...cocoa--or what have you.”
“We can change that. You don't spend Christmas with your family?” Lila asked with a crackle in her soft voice as she approached the counter.
“Nana. That's personal,” Holland said with a sharp nod of her chin.
“It's fine. My parents now live in Tulsa, and I rarely make it home for Christmas. When I do, it's usually for about two days. I spend more time in hotels during the holidays than my condo in California.”
“What brings you to Birch Falls? We're not exactly a bustling city, ” Lila inquired.
“Excuse my grandmother. She doesn't believe in boundaries.” Holland touched her grandmother's frail shoulder gently and gave her a little squeeze.
“I'm-,” Cole hesitated. “I'm here to assist a colleague on a project. I won't bore you with the boring intricacies of numbers and flow charts.”
“Well, whatever brought you to our little piece of Heaven, we're glad you're here,” Lila said, with a grin.
“I appreciate that,” Cole replied. Although time had hollowed her cheeks, the sparkle in her ice blue eyes was jubilant and youthful.
“Enjoy your stay with us, young man. A handsome fella like you shouldn't be spending Christmas alone.” Lila darted her eyes over to Holland as a smile poured over her face. “My granddaughter's single, you know.”
“Nana!” Holland's eyes went wide. “Don't you need to go check on the boxes for the ornaments?”
“Yes, I do,” Lila replied, with a tickled expression. “When do you meet with your colleague?”
“Umm, I'm hoping to meet with him tomorrow. I was planning to stay two nights, but if there's a discount, and perhaps a decent cup of coffee nearby, I'll go ahead and make it three.” His eyes shifted toward Holland. “I'm not sure I can stay long enough for the Peppermint in the Square festival. I have to get my work done and catch a plane to Louisiana. I've got complimentary tickets to an NFL bowl game the day after Christmas.”
Holland shrugged. “Peppermint in the Park,” she corrected with a chuckle. “You don't know what you're missing Mr. Stevens.” Holland felt her heartbeat fasten. “Three nights it is. Here is your key. It's the cabin two doors down that says 'Bluegrass Bungalow' on the sign mounted next to the door.” She jangled the key attached to a hummingbird key chain.
Cole took the key, and as he touched her hand, his insides warmed. “It's Cole. Not Mr. Stevens.” He noticed there wasn't a wedding ring on her finger. His muscles began to relax and he pulled his shoulders back. “I'll figure out a way to make up my entrance to you, Miss Jenkins. I can't replace the ornament, but I'll figure out something if you won't let me pay you for it.” His eyes implored her.
Holland bumped against a chair, losing her footing. She rubbed her hands over her thighs, finding comfort in the softness of her red plaid leggings. “It's Okay,” she managed to say. “Just promise that when you come back in, you'll use the doorbell next time, so I can move away from the door.” She slid a hand onto one hip.
Lila rubbed her granddaughter's back. “Holland makes a wonderful tour guide if you find some free time while you're here.” She waved her hand, exiting the room.
Cole pointed toward the table of ornaments. “I really am sorry about your ornament, Holland.”
He picked up a ceramic ornament of an angel and rubbed his fingers over it, observing the intricate details of the rounded edges and curved lines. He placed it down gently, eyes shifting over the painted glass designs, and he turned to Holland. “These are beautiful, and you're very talented. Wrap me up one of your designs before I check out. I'll pay you double for it.”
Holland moved from behind the counter, inching closer to Cole. “You don't have to do that. I'll move my work bench to the back corner away from the door and the wind. I should've known better.” She tugged at her black sweater.
Cole's eyes followed her features. He'd dreaded this trip, but saying no to his boss was something he rarely did. Acquisitions didn't allow for personal connections. Perhaps this unexpected stay could be kind of fun if he spent more time around Holland. She was definitely not the usual type of woman he encountered with her blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail, neutral makeup, and a little sparkle to her skin courtesy of glitter she'd been using. He couldn't forget why he was here, but steering clear of Holland Jenkins wouldn't be easy. Even in casual mode, her beauty was hypnotic.
Holland's hand fell from her hip, as she placed one foot behind the other, leaning back on one heel. She forced a slowed breath. “Do you need me to walk you to your cabin or call for a bellman?” She gave him a coy smile. The sooner he would leave, the sooner she could forget their less than graceful meeting.
Cole slowly toyed with the key in his hand, as he waited for her eyes to follow his fingers, confident that they would. His lips parted. A wry smile filled in across his lips. “I think I can manage.”
Cole reached for the silver doorknob, taking in the view of the room and the Christmas tree decorated in the corner. “Nice tree. This place has a cool rugged appeal. I'm kind of digging it.” He chuckled and turned the knob. “Nice to meet you, Holland. It's not every day that a woman falls into my arms, and catching you was the highlight of this otherwise lousy day.”
“Glad it's turning around for you. I guess we're both having bad luck today.”
“I hate the ornament cracked, but I guess it's a matter of perspective in the rest. The ornament can be repaired. You didn't have a collision on the floor, but landing in my arms? I can think of worse things. I'll be sure to leave a review of our introduction on Yelp,” he chuckled and held up the keys. He dragged his hawkish gaze away, tugging the door open, and breezily ambled away.
Holland shrugged as her cheeks pinked up like the sugariest part of cotton candy. She raced over to the large window, craning her neck for one last glimpse of the handsome newcomer. The gray curtains Lila had sewn years before held by sashes provided for her view. She whipped her body in a semi-circle against the pewter colored wall, narrowly avoiding being seen when he took a sharp turn in the driveway as if expecting her stare. She closed her eyes and let out her breath. She pushed away from the wall, opening her eyes. She rolled her shoulders back and adjusted her hair tie. She picked up a paintbrush, as her eyes drifted over to the guest book sitting on the counter. She twitched her jaw and scanned the room before walking over to the guest book to read Cole's information. “Nice handwriting,” she said aloud. “What am I doing?” She let out her breath and walked away from the counter toward her work bench. She began humming to a Christmas song playing from the radio in her adjacent mini studio.
Lila peered around the doorway from the studio, and watched her granddaughter as she hummed and painted. After she set an ornament down, Lila approached. “Cole seems like a nice young man. I think you should show him around Birch Falls while he's in town. Give him a little taste of our holiday spirit.”
“He's a guest, Nana,” Holland replied. “I don't get involved with guests.”
“I said nothing of getting involved. A little hospitality in the form of a tour around town would be a nice gesture, is all. It is Christmas.”
“Sure, Nana. I'll think about it.”
**ALL CONTAINED IS COPYRIGHTED BY ANGIE ELLINGTON/CALICO PAW BOOKS & SHOULD NOT BE SHARED NOR DISTRIBUTED OR ALTERED IN ANY WAY.**
Purchase Christmas at Mistletoe Ridge from:
A wife & fur mama of cats & a dog who sometimes thinks she's a cat, Angie loves her family, chocolate, coffee, & an occasional glass of red wine. She doesn't talk politics nor read books about them. She also includes inspirational messages of hope & confidence, includes fun side characters to adore, & sets her books in small towns where family & friendship are at the core of finding one's happily ever after. Most of her books are shorter in length; perfect for those who can find a few hours to drift away & find a little laughter & love.
Angie is a graduate of The University of NC at Wilmington & resides in NC.
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