Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
The Mitchells’ Christmas Eve Open House was a tradition in our neighborhood. It started early, and almost every family stopped in before heading to their family dinners and parties. The house was already full of revelers when my mother and I arrived.
After placing the gifts I’d brought beneath the tree, I found Cole pouring drinks at the makeshift bar in the dining room. The moment I saw him, my stomach flipped like a pancake. He was so handsome in his French blue shirt with the sleeves cuffed up, his charcoal gray dress pants, and shiny dress shoes. His scruff was trimmed back, his hair was neatly combed, and he smelled like he had our first night together.
“Hey there,” I said, approaching the bar with a grin. “Don’t tell my boyfriend, but you’re the cutest bartender I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh yeah? Well, you see what’s right above our heads?”
I looked up. “Mistletoe. How convenient.”
“I know. Come here.” He leaned forward over the bar and I did too, our lips meeting in the middle.
“Eww,” said a high-pitched voice. “That’s gross.”
We looked to see Mariah standing to one side of the bar with a few neighborhood friends. “I know, and they do it all the time,” Mariah said, rolling her eyes.
“Beat it,” Cole said, jerking his thumb. “No kids allowed in my bar.”
The kids scampered off, and I turned back to Cole, studying him more closely. “How are you?”
“Good.” He smiled, but I could see the dark circles under his eyes, the pallor beneath his normally golden complexion. “How are you?”
“Good. Want to pour me some wine?”
“Of course. Red or white?”
“Red, please.”
He opened a bottle and poured me a glass, handing it over the bar. “There you go.”
“Thanks.” I took a sip as a few dads from the neighborhood approached the bar, wanting to clap Cole on the back for the rescue earlier in the week and open a bottle of good whiskey one of them had brought.
A discussion ensued about the merits of Irish versus Japanese versus Tennessee whiskey, and I excused myself, saying I was going to offer my help to his mom in the kitchen. He gave me a look that said he was sorry, and I reassured him with a smile.
In the kitchen, I found a harried Mrs. Mitchell trying to keep the trays of appetizers full, make room on the table for dishes neighbors had brought, and keep up with the empty plate and glass collection. When I offered to help, she called me an angel and asked me if I’d stir the meatballs, then dump them into the serving bowl on the counter.
I stayed busy in the kitchen for the next hour, during which Cole brought me a second glass of wine and kissed my cheek before disappearing again. When the second glass was gone, I had to use the bathroom, and since someone was in the one on the first floor, I went upstairs to the second. The door was closed, but I decided to wait rather than go back downstairs.
I couldn’t resist peeking into Cole’s room, pushing the door all the way open and snapping on the light. I hadn’t been in here since the night I’d helped choose his outfit for Griffin’s party over a month ago. It made me smile, thinking how much things had changed.
But one thing hadn’t—the wedding photo was still on his dresser. Unable to help myself, I picked it up and looked closer. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel a punch of jealousy because he’d loved her. I understood she was part of his story the way Mariah was too. And even though I knew he’d always have a place in his heart for her, it didn’t bother me. I knew there was room for me too.
I just wanted to be part of his story—even if I hadn’t been the beginning, I could be the happily ever after.
If he’d let me.
“Cheyenne?”
I turned and discovered Mariah in the doorway. “Oh! Hey, honey. I was just . . .” I set the photo down and decided to change the subject. “Are you having a good time?”
“I was, but my friends had to leave.” She shrugged. “Now I’ll be bored the rest of the night. What are you doing up here?”
“Um, I came up to use the bathroom, but someone was in there.”
“I was. Sorry.” She looked guilty.
“That’s okay.” I smiled at her. “Then I just wandered in here. Your dad is a very neat person, isn’t he?”
“We have to be. Grandma gets mad if we don’t make our beds first thing when we get up.”
“Well, it’s not a bad habit to form.” I turned and looked at Cole’s bed, surprised to see a stuffed animal there. Laughing, I pointed at it. “What is that?”
“Oh, that’s Prewitt.” Giggling, she went over and retrieved it. “He’s a platypus. My dad gave it to me once because I was scared there were monsters under my bed. He first tried to tell me there was no such thing as monsters, but I didn’t believe him, so he got me Prewitt, because monsters are only afraid of one thing, and that’s platypuses.”