The Magic of Mistletoe

Finally he spoke. “So how did you get the name Macy?”

“Well.” Macy took a sip of coffee first, glad for the distraction from watching him staring at her mouth. She had thought for a moment that he was going to kiss her. And if he had, she might not have moved. “I was born during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.”

If he hadn’t choked on his coffee, the surprised news would certainly have shown on his face. Duke’s eyes opened wide; his mouth hung agape. “What?”

She gave him a slow smile. “It’s true. My mother was a local weather girl who insisted on covering the parade. My father was also an anchorman. They lived in Jersey and commuted to New York City. Since my mom wasn’t due until New Year’s Eve, she thought everything would be okay. Then, just as Snoopy was coming down Thirty-Fourth Street, her water broke, contractions came and they hid her in a float.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.” She took another sip and hid her smile behind her mug. “Somewhere in this universe is a recording of my public entrance into the world.”

“Interesting.” Duke’s melodic hum sent a wave of chills down her spine. “How did you end up in Tallahassee?”

With a shrug, Macy sighed. “Well, with my parents busy covering the world news, my grandparents took me in.”

Duke straightened to his six-foot-plus frame and raked his hand over his cropped black hair. “That’s pretty cool. My family believes in closeness. Hey, wait a minute, today must be your birthday, right?”

“No, this year my birthday falls on a Sunday.”

He pressed his lips together as if to make a mental note about it. He didn’t have to, she thought to herself. They just met two days ago.

Technically.

Surely, with all the chatter between the two of them, she felt they knew each other already. She knew all about Duke’s career choices, and she knew all about his relationships with the starlets he’d interviewed over the years. She also knew about the serious relationship he had been in. If Gia hadn’t mentioned it, Serena would have, or Macy could have easily caught wind of it in the grocery store line, looking at the tabloids.

Up until recently, Duke Rodriguez had been with a tall, raven-haired beauty named Kristina Barclay. They’d been together for about a year, which at least told Macy that the man was able to commit to a relationship. And then over the summer, they’d split, and neither would comment as to why.

Soon after their separation, Duke had been photographed at every nightclub from DC to New York City with one gorgeous leggy woman or another. Macy just assumed it was because Duke probably didn’t want to settle down. He was close to forty and set in his own ways. Why else would a grown man leave a perfectly good job at a national news station in DC and travel down south just to help out a friend?

“Big plans? It’s your what? Twenty-eighth?”

“Nice try.” She smirked. “But if you didn’t figure out from the interview, then I’m not going to tell.”

She watched him stretch. She’d never paid attention to a man stretch before. It never seemed erotic, yet he managed to make it so. Heat crept around her neck, down her chest. Duke’s chest seemed to double in size as he inhaled. His stretch came with a groan, a low, grunted sound that rose from the pit of his belly to his Adam’s apple. When he finished with his yawn and stretch, he leaned against the counter, both elbows on the countertop. He seemed closer to her. And with him bent over like that, he was eye level with her.

“I am sure I can figure it out.” He was confident in what he said and the way he smiled at her. She wished he’d stop doing that, because every time he did, she felt like a schoolgirl with a crazy crush. “So let me get this straight. Both your parents were in broadcasting and you’re giving me grief about my slipup? Are you saying every broadcast was perfect?”

“Of course they did slip up every now and then. But it’s just different when it’s your own kids.”

“I guess I would understand more if I had kids of my own.”

“None?”

He shook his head no and reached for his coffee again. “No.”

“Too busy planning your own career?” Macy said with a snarky smirk.

“Actually, I found out when I entered college at Miami.”

Macy recalled her grandfather boasting about Duke’s reputation as a third baseman phenom. The major leagues were interested in recruiting him. Even at eighteen, tall and lanky, his dark Caribbean looks had caused a buzz. Now here he stood in the flesh, filled out in all the right places, and still causing quite the buzz. Macy swallowed hard and pushed down the memory of all the fantasies she had of him.

“I came to the States for a summer workshop and got pretty sick. The docs worried it was meningitis, but turned out I had mumps again.”

“Mumps?” Macy repeated, cocking her head to the side. She tried to imagine Duke’s square jawline swollen.

“Turns out I am one of the few people who can contract it a second time,” he continued, “especially since I was never vaccinated as a child.”

“Second?” Macy shook her head. “I don’t understand.”