Linda Goodnight - Cowboy Under the Mistletoe

“Allison.” He grabbed a box and sent it thudding into the basket. “Single guys learn to do laundry or go dirty. I prefer not to smell like the bulls I ride.”

“But you don’t cook.” So small she barely reached his shoulders, she gazed up at him through big brown eyes he’d never forgotten. Did she have any idea how pretty she was?

“How do you know I can’t cook?”

“I saw your shopping cart.” She made a cute face. “Steaks and salad are a guy’s go-to meal. And then you’re done.”

Jake let a smile creep up his cheeks. “Wise guy.” Though she was anything but a guy. Little Allison had grown up. “I don’t suppose you’d take pity on a man for eating out a lot.”

She tossed in a box of fabric softener sheets and pointed to the west. “Next aisle over. Come on. We’ll stock the cabinets.”

“Who’s going to cook?”

Her answer nearly stopped his heart. “Me.”

So much for avoiding Allison Buchanon.

* * *

Allison left the warehouse office at five-thirty, stopped at The Bakery to discuss Faith’s cake with Cindy, the best and only wedding cake decorator in Gabriel’s Crossing, and then headed toward Faith’s house.

Jake’s truck was noticeably absent as she drove past the Hamilton place, and if she was disappointed, she tried not to be. She’d see him tonight, though she questioned her sanity, as well as her family loyalty. At the same time, she wanted to be there for Miss Pat, a woman who’d taught all the Buchanon kids in first grade. And Allison loved to cook. Buchanon women were noted for their kitchen gifts.

Right. As if Jake had nothing to do with the buzz of energy racing through her system. A buzz that had begun the moment she’d seen him again and hadn’t let up.

She passed two little girls pedaling bikes and pulled to the curb outside the faded red brick where Faith had lived alone with her mother since her parents’ divorce twenty years ago.

“The topper is in,” she said without greeting when her BFF pushed open the smoked glass door. Tall and narrow, Faith was a bleached blonde with a long face and gray eyes who could play the fiddle and clog at the same time, a feat Allison found both charming and hilarious considering her towering height.

“Did you take a picture?”

“Do birds fly?” Allison whipped out her cell and scrolled to the photo. “The next time you’re not tutoring after school, you should stop by and check it out. The cake is going to be gorgeous.”

“Ooh, I love this.” A pair of silver and crystal hearts twined on a silver base engraved with the initials of the bride and groom. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.”

“Only the best is good enough for my bestie. How did the dress fitting go?”

Faith made a face. “Let’s put it this way. Don’t tempt me with ice cream or pizza until after the wedding. One more pound and Clare will have to paint the dress on.”

“Tell that to Derrick. He’s the one who wines and dines you like a princess.”

“One of the many reasons I love the guy.”

“Derrick is the steadiest, most dependable man in Texas. You’ll be a princess forever.”

Faith grinned. “From stork to princess. I love it.”

Faith’s superior height had made her the object of too many jokes through the years. Though Derrick was two inches shorter, he adored his fiancée the way she was.

Every girl wanted a man like that.

Ever present in her thoughts these days, Jake flashed into her mental viewer. He’d been entertainingly inept at the grocery store, and he’d made her laugh over a can of spinach.

“Stop calling yourself a stork. You know how many times I’ve wished I was tall enough to reach the second shelf in the kitchen cabinet?”

“I can change a lightbulb without a chair.”

“Lucky duck.”

Faith laughed and hooked an elbow with Allison. “Come on. I have a stack of RSVPs to go through. Let’s see who’s coming to the biggest party in town.”

With the wedding in three weeks, time was running out for all the last-minute details. “I touched base with the band and the caterer this morning, and scheduled the final fitting with all the bridesmaids.”

“And?”

“Everything’s a go. The caterer even managed some vegan dishes for Jayla and her friends after I sent over some suggestions.”

“She’s a genius.” They settled side by side on a fawn-colored couch. “So are you. How do you find time for all this?”

“The perks of working for family. When the office is slow, I make calls or run errands.”

“Saturday for the bridesmaids, right? What time?” Faith chewed the edge of a fingernail.

“Stop that.” Allison swatted her friend’s hand. “Ten o’clock. Which reminds me, are you going for acrylic nails or natural?”

“Do you actually think I can keep my hands out of my mouth in the weeks preceding the most important day of my life?”

“Not a chance. Acrylic it is. Have you made the appointment? What about your hair?” Allison went down the list she’d checked and rechecked dozens of times. Faith had been known to forget the details. Allison was a detail girl.

A stack of wedding RSVP envelopes—in the same white pearl as the mountain of invitations the two of them, along with Faith’s mother, had addressed weeks ago—waited in a box on the coffee table. “Have you opened any of them?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“Good. I want to keep a list.”

“And you know I’m lousy with lists.”

“Part of your charm. You’re marrying a statistician. You don’t have to worry about lists anymore.” Allison grabbed a stack and a letter opener. “Put acceptances in the white box, rejections in the blue one.”

As they sorted the cards, they talked. About how hard it would be to live three hours apart. About the darling house Faith and Derrick had purchased in Oklahoma City. About the honeymoon in Saint Thomas. If Allison felt a twinge of envy mixed in with her absolute delight for her best friend, she didn’t acknowledge it.

“Derrick’s brother is pretty cute, don’t you think?” Faith’s voice was casual but she didn’t look at Allison, a sign she was trying—and failing—to be subtle.

“Yes, and nice, too, like Derrick.”

“And? He’s the best man. You’re the maid of honor. Maybe you could get something going, and we could be sisters-in-law?”

Allison laughed. “Marrying your husband’s brother would not make us related. Besides, I like being single.”

“You do not. We’ve both waited long enough. Now that I’m getting married, you should get serious about finding someone.”

She’d found someone once-upon-a-fairy-tale. But her fairy tale had turned into a horror flick.

In self-defense, she said, “I went to the movies with Billy last month.”

“Last month! Allison, do you know how pathetic that is? And you only went with him because his sister asked you to take pity on him.” Faith put the stack of envelopes in her lap. “Jake’s the problem, isn’t he? Like always.”

Was she that transparent?

“Maybe.” Probably. “But that was years ago.”

“You still have his picture in your wallet.”

“I never got around to taking it out.”

“You’ve changed wallets a dozen times since then. Which means he’s still stuck in your head and your heart. So now that he’s back you need to do something about him.”

“And cause the biggest war since the Hatfields and McCoys?” Allison shook her head. “I only want to make things easier for him. Our teenage romance is long behind us.”

Faith rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. This is me you’re talking to. You have never—I repeat never —laid to rest the issue of Jake Hamilton. Every guy is measured up against your handsome cowboy, and then you kick them to the curb like a pop can.”