Page 12 of Third Time's the Charm
“One second,” I said to Doug. Then I did the most uncouth thing: I gulped down a glass of wine like a college kid at a party.
Then Doug and I set out on our usual evening route. Everyone had started making their way out to the watch points on the beaches, so the town square was pretty quiet and the foot paths were empty. Which I really liked. Even though I had set in my mind to move on from Jack once and for all, I was keyed up. Especially after Ryker texted that traffic was so bad trying to get into the Keys that he was heading back to his condo in Miami for the night.
He wouldn’t be home until tomorrow morning at the earliest.
So it was nice to be all alone with Doug, walking in the cooler evening air, with a little wine buzz. He stopped here and there to sniff around. I liked to call it his newsstand stops because it was the place he got the neighborhood gossip through sniffing out the other dogs. Everything was so pretty at night with the stars in the sky and the twinkle lights wrapped around palm trees and railings. Even though the crowds were lighter, the town square still played a collection of holiday music that served as a soundtrack for our walk.
I was so distracted by my thoughts I didn’t pay attention to which way Doug was pulling me. Not until the spotlight clicked on.
“No!” I gasped, looked around, and full-on panicked. I was stuck in a Mistletoe trap!
Our island has many, many traditions. Some good, some weird, so over-the-top. This was one that fell into the weird/over-the-top category. It was meant to be fun. To encourage love and friendship. It was oh, so much fun to wander into a spotlight with your lover or even a friend. One didn’t have tokissunder the mistletoe, any act of love was acceptable to be released from the trap.
Cute right?
This is where the over-the-top part comes in. I’m not technically trapped. No walls went up. No one was nearby recording whether I stayed or went. But it was tradition, and there were taboos about breaking tradition. The island, as a whole, was also deeply superstitious.
And adding fuel to that fire was the fact that bad things happened when people walked away from the Mistletoe trap. So I could absolutely walk away, let Doug tug me home. And risk feeling the guilt of possibly ruining Christmas.
Maybe.
Doug yipped.
I scowled. “You got me into this mess. Maybe whoever walks by will kissyou.”
Doug barked. I wasn’t entirely sure if he was excited to step in for the kiss that would release us or if he just wanted to get back to walking. Doug was a bundle of energy and I often brought him with me into the field so he could burn off his energy.
I clearly made the mistake of leaving him home today.
“Hello?” I called out. Of course no one was around the one time I get caught. Why did the holiday traffic have to be so bad? Ryker could be here right now. We could have been strolling arm in arm. I loved his silly polo shirts and the way he was always so awkwardly formal. He’d get all flustered when the spotlight came on, and I’d kiss him until he forgot to be flustered.
That’swhat the mistletoe spotlight was for! Not this sad solo plea for a stranger to come along and spring me from this trap! “Anyone? Anyone?”
“You look like you could use some help.” I froze because Iknewthat voice all too well.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed. I was surprised and a little scared, if I’m being honest. Not scared of Jack. Not at all. He may have broken my heart, but he was nothing to be scared about.
No, I was scared of the way I felt around him. It was all just too much. Too much anger, too much power, too much attraction.
‘Cuz yeah. My body still enjoyed him. Maybe it was the memories. When I looked at Jack standing there in the dark, hands in his pockets, the first thing my brain recognized was that he looked really good. Then it remembered how good those hands and lips could make me feel.
It was only after that my brain remembered to remember that he was also a self-centered jerk.
He shrugged. “I’m here to rescue you.”
Zing!I threw up my hands. “Oh no you don’t. I’ll wait for someone else.”
“You could be here all night. It’s Christmas Eve Eve. Everyone is in the town square or out at the beaches. No one’s coming down this path any time soon.”
“Then I’ll just leave.”
“No you won’t. You don’t want to bring bad luck to the town.”
He knew me too well. “That’s a story and you know it.”
“You’ve kissed me hundreds of times,” he said, walking a little closer. “What’s one more kiss?”
I am damn ashamed to admit I let memories of him kissing me senseless, naked and alone in our bed, flash unbidden through my mind. “Jackson Michael Cassidy, if you take one more step closer I will strangle you with my bare hands.”
