Kristine Rolofson - Her Mistletoe Magic

“It’s almost Christmas Eve,” Nico said.

“So I’ve heard. We have a lovely wedding to work.”

“We do,” he agreed. “But before that...” He paused. “Well, actually before, during and after that, is the Vitelli family Christmas Eve party.”

“All afternoon and night?”

“Just about. We’re Italian. The cooking and eating goes on for hours.”

“And you’re going to miss it?”

“Noelle’s wedding’s at seven, cocktails after and dinner at eight-fifteen, which leaves plenty of time for photographs. Michael is itching to prove himself and we’ll have the prep done. I’ll be at my parents’ from one o’clock until five or so. I hate to miss dinner, but they understand. Everyone has commitments, the little kids have to go home and go to bed early, but somehow we’ll manage to spend a few overlapping hours together in total chaos and with enormous amounts of food.”

“All right,” Grace said. “I can oversee the setup in Wildwood. I’ll be decorating in the morning—the florist is coming early—and will have everything ready for the appetizers. Michael and I can manage without you. It’s a simple wedding and the whole staff is pitching in.”

“Sweetheart, that’s not the favor.”

She couldn’t think what else he would need. And whenever he called her “sweetheart” her brain turned to bread crumbs.

“Quit frowning at me like that,” Nico said. “I’d like you—I need you—to come to the family party.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve. It’s family .”

“Precisely. If I don’t bring you they’ll do nothing but ask me questions about you.”

“Because I’m staying here.” Or because you’ve kissed me. Because sometimes you look at me as if you are totally enthralled with the person you see? Because I blush when you tease me and secretly adore it when you take care of me? She eyed her ankle. Had a sprained ankle brought her a hint of romance? “You told them why, though?”

“Well, sure. And they’d like to meet you anyway.” He smiled. “Come on, do me a favor. If they think I’m keeping you a secret, which they do, they’ll never leave me alone.”

“Nico...” She didn’t know what to say. His family would think they were a couple. She was living in his house, for heaven’s sake. And she needed to remind herself she was only there because he felt responsible for her. Assuming there was anything else going on could only lead to major disappointment. She needed to stop thinking about kissing him and start getting a grip on reality.

“Stuffed manicotti,” he murmured, taking her hand in his. “Lasagna. Meatballs that will melt in your mouth. We don’t always do the traditional fish courses, having been corrupted by three sons-in-law whose requests for meat have to be honored. Antipasto. Cheeses. Shrimp risotto. And wine.” He stroked her palm with his thumb. “Lots of wine. Only the best Chianti. And Pinots, too.”

She groaned, but she didn’t remove her hand from his. He’d held her hand before and she’d discovered she liked that gesture. She liked that gesture very, very much. “You’re trying to bribe me with food?”

“Tiramisu like you’ve never had it before, babe,” he growled in a mock-sexy voice.

“They’ll think I’m your girlfriend,” she cautioned. “Instead of a clumsy coworker who can’t climb stairs.”

“They’ll think you’re lovely,” Nico said. He released her hand. “You’ll be doing me a favor, remember?”

“Tiramisu?”

“Tiramisu.” They clinked glasses to seal the deal. “Now,” Nico said, “let’s talk about this shower. I’m thinking hot and cold appetizers, with red and white wines, some local beer and a chocolate-dessert bar. A friend of Noelle’s called me and said she’d bring chocolates from the Candy Man. How many people are coming?”

“Thirty, maybe a few more. I think it’s mostly staff and Noelle’s and Ted’s friends. More of a party than a typical shower.”

“No games? No bouquets made of ribbons?”

“I doubt it.” Grace chuckled, and then stifled a yawn. “But Patsy’s involved, so you never know. She has a wild side.”

“Can I help you get to bed?”

“I think I’ll use the crutch so I don’t have to put the boot back on.” Grace put her foot on the floor and wiggled her sock-covered toes. “I think it’s getting better. I should be able to manage my stairs tomorrow.”

“Give it another day or two,” Nico said, handing her the crutch. “Don’t risk hurting yourself before then. I’ll help you move back home after the wedding.”

She thought about that while he helped her to her bedroom and turned down the quilted comforter. She’d made her bed this morning by hopping carefully on one foot.

“Do you need help with anything?” He held her gently by the waist, ignoring the dog who had woken from his nap under the kitchen table and now pattered into the room.

“No. I’m fine.” She’d hung the flannel nightgown on a hook on the back of the bathroom door, tucked her makeup and toiletries into two empty drawers by the sink. She didn’t intend to be a messy or demanding houseguest.

“Okay, then.” He hesitated, then leaned down and slanted his mouth over hers. Her arms went around his neck in the most natural way, her lips responded to the warmth of his. On a scale of one to ten, the kiss was a fifteen, with extra points for self-control, Grace decided, pulling back slowly.

“Good night,” he whispered, touching his lips to her cheek, her earlobe, her neck.

Shivers.

“Good night,” she managed to croak, though part of her wanted to grab him by the front of his shirt and haul that sexy mouth of his back to hers. She resisted, but just barely.

“See you in the morning,” Nico said, giving her a quick hug before practically running out of the room.

Grace thought about that kiss as she brushed her teeth, washed her face and slipped the nightgown over her head. She thought about it as she lay in Nico’s beautiful guest room bed, his dog snoring softly next to her. Her foot ached and her arms were sore from using the crutches, so she was content to be snuggled under the covers and nestled into mounds of down pillows.

He’d kissed her as if he meant it.

She was going to have to be very careful. He might intend to stay here in town and he might be perfectly content with running the lodge’s restaurant, but would that last? She’d thought Josh was going to stay forever, too, and look what happened there. She’d been left alone, after being certain they had a future together.

No matter what Nico said, Grace didn’t think Chef Vitelli was the domestic, small-town guy he thought he was.

NICO WAS PREPARED this time. Yesterday he’d been caught by surprise when his nephew and sister arrived for the dog, but this morning he expected visitors.

And visitors came, shortly after he’d checked in with his staff, taken care of a few minor staffing issues due to something called the Jingle Bell Run, arranged for one of the wedding guests to deliver breakfast to another wedding guest, discussed a frozen-blueberry shortage with Michael and okayed next week’s meat order.

“Is she still here?” His middle sister, Cathy, followed her nephew into the living room. She wore jeans, a thick vest and hiking boots. Her long brown hair was wrapped into a braid that hung over one shoulder and her cheeks were pink from the cold. She was his most domestic sister; she baked bread, sewed quilts, knit and made sure that her younger brother’s house was clean. Her two little ones, both girls, had their mother’s cheery disposition and their father’s red hair.

“She is. And she’s in the shower, so don’t go barging into the bedroom wanting to meet her.” He handed Al’s leash to Brian. “Here you go, kid. He’s all yours until tonight. I might be working late.”