A Mistletoe Kiss with the Boss

But confused or not, he was on her porch.

“Come in.”

He stepped into the foyer, handed her the wine and shrugged out of his jacket, which he casually hung across the newel post again.

“You brought extra wine to help you get through this, didn’t you?”

He laughed and brushed a quick kiss across her mouth. “Sort of.”

Though his answer didn’t surprise her, the quick kiss did. She couldn’t imagine what he felt for her, that the man who didn’t even like talking to people was willing to take himself this far out of his comfort zone for her.

She led him into the kitchen, where they grabbed four wineglasses, then into the living room where a huge blue spruce sat in the corner.

Dean said hello to her family, then uncorked the wine and poured, not really looking at the tree or the decorations that were strewn all over the chairs, sofa and coffee table.

She picked up an ancient ornament and presented it to him. “I made this in kindergarten.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that a—?”

“Toilet paper roll? Yes. Covered in glitter and tinsel, but it’s still a toilet paper roll.”

He laughed.

Lars picked up his corresponding roll. “Mine.”

Dean laughed again. “It’s nice that you saved them.”

Kristen’s mom said, “We like to remember Christmases past.”

Kristen’s gaze flew to Dean. But he hardly responded. If she hadn’t known to look for the quiet indrawn breath, she wouldn’t even have known the comment had affected him.

Still, she’d seen the breath. But though she knew walking through a family’s Christmas memories might be difficult for him, she also knew he needed to do this. He needed to stop avoiding the holiday that gave most people pure joy and get involved, so that someday he’d feel a part of that joy.

“Grandma Anderson lived with us till her passing when I was in high school. She loved to make nut rolls.”

As her father reached to loop a string of lights over the tree, he said, “There was nothing like warm nut roll on Christmas morning.”

“With a glass of milk,” Lars agreed.

Dean set down his wine and walked over to the tree. Standing on the opposite side of her father, he caught the strings of lights when her dad tossed them, placed them on a branch—as her father had been doing—and guided them back to her dad.

Knowing there was no time like the present, Kristen said, “So do you have any special memories, Dean?”

Kristen’s mother’s eyes widened and her dad’s head jerked toward Kristen, but she knew this was what had to be done. Face the elephant in the room head-on.

Dean quietly said, “No.” Working with the lights, he kept his gaze averted. Still, Kristen knew this was the best thing for him, so she persisted.

“I told my parents about your parents.”

Apparently finally figuring out what Kristen was doing, her mom jumped in saying, “That was tragic and difficult for you.”

“Yes. It was,” Dean said.

“Worse that your grandmother was too old to care for you,” Joan said sympathetically.

With all that out in the open, Kristen knew it was time to shift gears. “But that’s over now. And you have an entire holiday of traditions to investigate and experiment with. Lars, why don’t you get a tray of those fruit horns Mom made this morning?”

Not needing to be asked twice, Lars raced out of the room.

Dean looked up at her mother, his head tilting as he studied her. “These cookies are good?”

“These cookies are excellent,” Kristen’s mom answered without a hint of humility. “Christmas baking is my specialty. If you like banana nut bread, you’ll be thrilled when you eat mine.”

Dean laughed. “Okay. Bring on the cookies.”

Kristen breathed a sigh of relief. With Dean’s past now acknowledged, Dean didn’t have to pretend anymore. Kristen would have been thrilled that her idea had worked out, except in New York, she’d seen Dean noticing Christmas decorations, being part of Christmas celebrations.

He had been ready to not just acknowledge there was a Christmas, but also to ease himself into it.

But she was falling in love with him—and he’d been hurt, used in the worst possible way. A few Christmas cookies and an afternoon decorating a tree wouldn’t be enough to get him past Nina.