Meet Me Under the Mistletoe (Kinky Spurs 4)

She nodded and smiled.

He tucked her hair behind her ear, loving the silkiness of the soft strands along with how she leaned into him. “That said,” he added, “you bought out the bakery, you drew the picture. That’s all you, I did none of that. Don’t forget that.”

She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Better stop all those compliments. I might get a big head.” She strode away laughing and entered the room again.

He stared after her. No, she wouldn’t. If only she did think more of herself, maybe she’d take a chance on something real.

The hospital visit lasted the remainder of the day, and by the time Darryl dropped Penelope off at her cousins’ house, her hand hurt from all the drawings she’d done. Not that she cared; she would’ve done more if anyone needed her to. When they arrived home, Maisie insisted Darryl stay for dinner, and after a reassuring look from Penelope, he agreed. Which was how they ended up at the brewery.

The barn had been stained in a rich cherry color. The beams were left open, with the hay loft still there at the back of the barn, now holding empty kegs with the Three Chicks logo on the front. And beneath the hay loft were large refrigerators.

When they entered, Darryl had made a purely masculine sound that came from deep in his chest. The sound was one of total delight. He strode down the cement floors between the large brewing tanks, his hands stuffed in his pockets, as if he was afraid he’d dive in for a drink.

Penelope smiled, and after today, that felt good. Because even she was feeling things she couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“A man could get thirsty in here,” Darryl eventually said, turning around to her.

Penelope snorted a laugh. “I could get into a lot of trouble in here.”

He reached for her, his smile a mix of heat and tenderness. “I’m beginning to enjoy the trouble you bring.”

Sure, it was easy to hope he meant that, but the truth was, Penelope liked a bit of trouble and there would be no apologizing for it. “That’s only because I’m not here very long, and I’m on my best behavior.”

“And why is that exactly?” he asked, taking her hand and turning around the corner to walk down the other aisle in the brewery. “Why is the wild girl who lives life on her terms, skating drunk on fountains, suddenly on her best behavior?”

“For my cousins.”

He cocked his head and chuckled. “You do know that I’m trained in spotting a lie.”

“Great.” She rolled her eyes. “What are you now, a mind reader?”

He took hold of her chin, his eyes hardening. “Don’t deflect.”

“Well, that cop look is effective, I’ll give you that,” she said with a shake of her head to remove his hand.

“Why do you think I did it?” He grinned, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “But indulge me anyway. What’s the real reason?”

She inhaled sharply and strode forward ahead of him now, not really sure how much she wanted to tell him. “I’m just trying to hit the nice list this year, that’s all.” She looked over her shoulder, and Darryl studied her carefully. Too carefully, in fact. She glanced ahead of her again and shrugged a little. “Besides, I know my cousins think I’m this big drinker because I work as a bartender. Maybe I used to be, but that’s not really me anymore. I want them to see me for…me.”

“Then what happened at the fountain?” he called out behind her.

Her throat tightened. He suddenly had her hand in his and tugged him into her. His warm gaze met hers, and it was impossible not to answer him. “It was just this place. It’s so…friendly and Christmas-y…and family-oriented.” She paused. Then forced the words out. “The first few days here were hard. I felt outside of everything. Apart from everyone. It had all gotten to be too much. It’s better now, though.”

“Ah, I see,” he said, with no judgment in his eyes.

He kept her hand in his as they headed back down the aisle toward the double barn doors, with the tasting room off to the left.

Just as she reached for the door, he stopped her, turning her into all his warmth and strength. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you for not only yesterday but today too.”

Her eyes stung. “Geez, they should just call this town, River Rock, the place where people are so nice they make you want to cry.”

He barked a loud laugh then dipped his chin. “Or maybe River Rock, the place where you finally hear the things you should’ve always heard.” He didn’t wait for an answer; instead, he kissed her, a warm and sweet kiss that made her fingers and toes and other parts of her tingle.

When he broke the kiss, he opened the door, leading her outside into the brisk chilly night air.

The moment they went out the door, a snowball flew toward them and hit Darryl in the thigh.

“Ha. Ha. Got you,” Mason squealed.