Mistletoe Baby (Crescent Cove 9.50)

“Kelsey dragged me over there earlier for the kid stuff.” Dare palmed the top of his head and settled his hat farther back. “My wife.”

“Sorry I missed them,” I said. “Sean sure is cute in his snowsuit.”

“The kid is Houdini. He’s always squirming out of it somehow.” He shrugged. “I’ve got tow truck duty, and some asshat already needs my help.”

“This asshat appreciates that you guys are so quick.” Callum grinned.

“Not touching that one.” Dare looked between us. “See you after the New Year.”

“Pretty sure that’s the most I’ve ever heard Dare say,” I said after Dare ambled off. “He must like you.”

“He likes my car.”

“That’s probably the truth.”

“Now where were we?”

“You were distracting me. Across the street, sir.”

He inclined his head. “As you wish.”

I dragged him across Main Street. “Don’t quote Princess Bride at me.”

“That’s it. You’re marrying me for real.”

A giggle escaped before I could squash it. “We’ll see.”

We wandered around the vendors who were hawking their wares, and we made sure to have cider and donuts from the nearby Happy Acres orchard. They had quite the entertainment lineup.

When I heard female giggling, I craned my neck. “Look at that crowd.”

Callum boosted me up and I grabbed hold of his shoulders. He grinned up at me. “What’s happening, do you think? Is it someone famous or one of the three-hundred babies who have overtaken this town?”

I laughed. “A bit of both actually.” There was a carriage there for sure, but the long dark hair of a tall man holding court told me it was a bit more. There had been a lot of excitement in Crescent Cove, thanks to my friend Ivy’s semi-famous rock producer husband.

He had quite a few famous friends, including one who spent part of the year at Happy Acres.

“Pretty sure that’s Ian Kagan over there.” I slid down Callum’s body. His hands firmed around my waist as he set me on the ground. My nipples tingled through a few layers. What was it about this guy?

He frowned. “Why is that name familiar?”

“Depends on if you listen to the rock stations.” I rested my palms on his chest.

“Do you?”

I shrugged. “I enjoy music. We fight over which channel to put it on at the salon.”

“Is that right?” He toyed with the ends of my hair. “That’s how you did the Cinderella transformation in less than an hour?”

“A woman never tells her secrets.” I looked away. Better to remember that I’d be turning back into that pumpkin at midnight.

He nudged my face back toward him. “Lest you forget, it was you who caught my attention yesterday. The girl with messy braids. I’m pretty sure they were pink too.”

I blushed. “Yeah, I drew the short straw for testing out a new temporary rinse. Took me four washes to get the cotton candy color out of my hair.”

“I enjoyed the pink, but I like the real you.”

“How do you know which is the real me? I could change my hair daily.”