Meet Me Under the Mistletoe (Kinky Spurs 4)

Sure, she knew her mental state was hanging in the balance of her new life and her new shop. She couldn’t fail. Not because of the money. Adam had left her in good shape financially. But she couldn’t fail because this was all she had. There was nothing else giving her a purpose. And she was done playing the victim. She was also done simply surviving. She’d already been doing that in spades in Seattle. She wanted to breathe. To live.

And that’s why she’d left Seattle and her parents. She’d given up her nursing career in the ER at Seattle’s General Hospital, and she’d dumped every cent she received from Adam’s insurance money into this shop and her little house on the lake.

Was she crazy?

Oh, yeah, she was totally batshit nuts.

She glanced down at the house keys in her hand. All of her belongings would be shipped tomorrow, so tonight she planned to stay at the Stoney Creek B&B a couple blocks down Main Street.

“Are you the new owner?”

Peyton turned around, finding an older couple smiling at her. “Yes, I am.”

“Oh, so lovely to hear,” the woman said, her arm wrapped in her husband’s. “We need more young business owners coming in and keeping our downtown alive.” She offered her hand. “I’m Marjorie, and this is Joe.”

Peyton returned Marjorie’s handshake and then shook Joe’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Peyton.” When she drew her hand away, her stomach suddenly rumbled loudly. “I’m sorry about that. Apparently, I’m starving.”

Joe’s amber eyes crinkled with his warm smile. “The bar next door has one of the best fish sandwiches in town.”

“That sounds delicious.” Peyton returned the smile, feeling the tightness in her chest begin to dissolve. “I’ll be sure to check it out. Thanks.”

“Enjoy your evening, Peyton,” Marjorie said. With a final wave, they continued on their walk.

When Peyton’s stomach growled again, she headed for the bar, thinking a drink along with food sounded like the next best step forward. She didn’t see any parking signs, figuring she could leave her car there for the night.

She grabbed her purse from the car, locked the doors and entered the bar. From its original flagstone walls and restored burgundy velvet chairs to the gold accents, the bar was pure class. Four large crystal chandeliers gave the space a warm, inviting feel, and round tables surrounded the black shiny stage, where a man had his head bowed over the piano he played.

Peyton headed for the bar that had three men drinking beers. She hastily moved to the other side, keeping her distance from anyone of the opposite sex. Even the hot guy with the dark hair and muscular biceps who held her gaze, the side of his mouth curving sensually. Actually, especially because of that. She needed to find herself again, not find herself in anyone’s bed.

When she slid onto the stool, a friendly voice said, “You’re new here.”

Peyton glanced up, finding a slim, long-haired brunette wearing a black T-shirt that read whiskey blues across her chest. The bright pink lipstick she wore made her big blue eyes pop.

“Yup, I’m brand spanking new.” Peyton smiled, offering her hand. “I bought the store next door.”

“Did you?” The woman returned the handshake. “Well, that makes us friends already, then.”

Peyton laughed. “And here I was thinking making new friends was going to be hard.” She placed her hands back onto her purse. “I’m Peyton.”

“Kinsley,” the woman said, grabbing a martini glass. “Lucky for you, I own this place, which means I can call it a night and celebrate us being neighbors.” She gestured at the glass. “Chocolate martinis sound okay?”

“Sounds divine,” Peyton said, her mouth watering. She definitely wanted a fish sandwich, but a little liquid love first didn’t hurt. Besides, she hoped the drink would help dissolve the lump in her throat. She questioned her sanity, uprooting her life and leaving her family behind. But she couldn’t have stayed in Seattle another day. Seattle belonged to her and Adam. She needed to belong without him. Adam was gone. He wasn’t coming back.

Kinsley finished pouring two glasses, then held hers up. “To new friendships and new beginnings.”

Peyton lifted her glass. “Cheers to that!”

Before long, one glass turned into two glasses, and Peyton’s belly felt warm, her smile easy, the fish sandwich long forgotten. She spoke of Seattle, leaving out all the personal parts, keeping those secrets locked up tight. And Kinsley shared life in Stoney Creek, the fun places to go, the sights to see.

“I make a damn fine martini,” Kinsley said,

licking the chocolate flakes off her upper lip. She placed her empty glass behind the bar. “Give me a couple minutes, then we’ll Uber it to this new house of yours on the lake and grab some takeout on the way. I gotta see this place. It sounds amazing.”

Sure, Kinsley was a stranger, but something about her laidback way put Peyton at ease. “Deal.” Peyton took another sip of her drink, watching Kinsley leave the bar and move into the back room, feeling happier than she’d felt in an entire year.

Something warm suddenly brushed against Peyton’s arm, making her shiver. She turned as Mr. Crooked Smile sat on the stool next to her. He was tall—around six foot two, pure muscle, an all-around fine specimen of a man. His intense blue eyes that appeared nearly gray in the low lighting held hers, and his five-o’clock shadow brought her attention to his totally kissable lips. He wore a navy-blue T-shirt that stretched across his chest, showcasing hard biceps, and jeans that hugged his thick thighs.

“Hi.” He grinned, voice as smooth as melted chocolate. And she really liked chocolate. A lot.