Puppy Love at Mistletoe Junction

Chapter One The Bet

A loud cheer filled the air of Quigley’s Irish Pub as the dart hit the board, the tip embedded in the small patch of red that was the bull’s-eye.

Theo Taylor dropped his hand, only letting a small smile twitch at the corners of his mouth as he turned around to face his friends.

Two of the three were grinning at him . . . the third, not so much.

“Unbelievable,” Gavin Quigley said as he folded his arms across his chest and glared at the dart, clearly trying to make sure it was within bounds. “That’s three rounds in a row. I don’t know why anyone bothers to play you.”

“Hey, you were the one who suggested the game.” Theo finished his beer before he crossed over to grab his darts. There were three boards spaced out on the wall, but only two were in use.

The group of guys on the far right were just throwing for points, but they’d been paying attention to Theo and his friends’ competition. They’d also been part of the cheering when Theo had gotten that last bull’s-eye.

“Yeah.” Gavin shook his head. “I’m starting to wonder what possessed me to suggest it in the first place.”

“That would be the whiskey. You felt confident after that first shot.” Max Abbott pointed to the half-filled bottle on the table.

“Come on, GQ.” Oscar Belmont clapped Gavin on the shoulder. “You know we just play for second when Theo is involved.”

Gavin’s nickname had been GQ ever since he was in high school, and he’d grown into his tall, lanky frame and broad shoulders. He was the perfect blend of his parents. His mother, Nari, was Korean, and she’d passed on her high cheekbones, black hair, and chocolate-brown eyes. He’d inherited his lean muscular build, square jaw, and dimples from Desmond’s Irish side of the family.

The man probably could’ve moved to New York and been a GQ model. Instead, he’d stayed in Cruickshank, North Carolina, where he ran Quigley’s Irish Pub with his family.

“Are we playing again?” Max asked as he tallied the totals on the bar napkin they’d been using to keep score.

“I think we need more beer first.” Oscar poured the last of it into his glass and handed the empty pitcher to Gavin.

“On it.” Gavin pushed his stool back and headed to the bar. He might not be working that night, but he’d been the one to refill their drinks. It gave a little relief to his family who were manning the bar.

It was a busy night too, groups of people gathered around the wooden tables or squished into booths. The bar had been built in 1904 by Charles Angus Quigley—right in the center of downtown—and was just as much of a Cruickshank staple then as it was now.

The floors were a rich mahogany, the walls mostly exposed brick with paintings of the Irish countryside scattered around. There were stuffed animal heads, stained glass pictures, and a collection of antique clocks—half of which had the wrong time. There was also a shrine of paintings and pictures depicting the Quigley family going as far back as the early 1800s. And at the very center of the room hung an impressive chandelier of Irish-whiskey bottles. The ceiling was the same dark mahogany as the floors, and exposed iron pipes stretched down with Edison light bulbs hanging from the ends.

The place was everything an old Irish pub should be, or at least it was to Theo.

It wasn’t very long before Gavin was making his way back to the table with a pitcher of beer in hand, but he wasn’t alone. Caroline Buchanan was next to him with a massive plate of loaded cheese fries. She was also pulling a shift behind the bar that night.

“I figured you guys were working up an appetite,” she said as she set the food on the table.

Her hands were barely free before Max was grabbing her waist and pulling her toward him. “I am rather hungry.” He grinned before leaning down and pressing his mouth to hers. She swayed a little in his arms, her dark brown hair brushing back and forth across her shoulders. Her left hand came up, cupping his jaw and making her engagement ring flash with the movement.

Theo wasn’t one to begrudge anyone their happiness—especially these two—but their public displays of affection were a bit much. He got it, they were making up for lost time. Fourteen years of lost time.

They’d grown up together, Max spending his summers with his grandparents in Cruickshank. Their friendship had turned into something more when they were teenagers, but life had gotten in the way. When Caro’s mother had died, a tragic chain of events pushed them apart. That was until Max had come to town last summer and they’d pretty much picked up where they left off.

There was no separating the duo now. That was evident by the fact that Max had given up a high-six-figure salary to move down here and buy the old Kincaid spring factory and turn it into a hotel.

Theo didn’t know if there was such a thing as soulmates, people who were fated for each other over anyone else. It wasn’t like he hadn’t grown up seeing happy couples. After thirty-three years of marriage his parents were somehow still ridiculously in love with each other. But there was something about Caro and Max that made him buy into it a little bit more, even if he did roll his eyes at their antics. And he wasn’t the only one.

“The two of you are nauseating.” Oscar gestured at them with a fry before he popped it into his mouth.

“You’re just jealous.” Caro waggled her eyebrows at him.

“Damn straight I am. I haven’t been on a date in two months. You know how hard it is to find a man in this town?”

“I do.” Caro nodded. “Why do you think I was still single after all these years?”

“I don’t think that had anything to do with a lack of options.” Gavin shook his head as he looked over to Max. “You were just waiting for him to come back.”

“You’re right. I was,” she said before she stretched up and pressed a kiss to Max’s bearded cheek. And she did have to stretch as he was almost a foot taller than her.

“Dating was a lot easier before I moved back here. A small town in the South isn’t exactly a gay man’s smorgasbord.” Oscar had moved away when he’d gone off to college, and as he’d become a veterinarian, he’d been gone for a good ten years before he returned.

Cruickshank had a way of keeping its residents . . . or drawing them back when they left. Max and Oscar were proof of that. Only 3.57 square miles and a population of roughly 4,300, it was a small town with a big reputation. People loved it there. Loved to live there, loved to visit there. That last part was evident by the fact that every season was tourist season.

Nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains, Cruickshank was the perfect retreat no matter the time of year. Spring brought blooming trees and flowers; summer provided fish-filled rivers and the shimmering waters of Lake Lenox to cool off in; fall had the mountains bursting with the colors of changing leaves; and winter turned the town into its own little North Pole.

It was the second week of November, so the crisp, cold weather was here to stay. Though it wasn’t cold in Quigley’s that Friday night; in fact it was quite cozy. The woodburning fireplace in the corner was full of flames, the pop and crackle of the wood adding a nice little soundtrack along with the chatter of the patrons.

Home. The entire town encompassed it for Theo.

“Don’t worry, Oscar.” Caro lightly punched his arm. “Your Prince Charming is just around the corner.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears.” He grinned as he cheers’ed his beer in her direction before taking a sip.

“So, who’s winning?” Caro indicated the dartboard with her chin.

“Who do you think?” Max pointed to Theo. “The man can’t be beaten.”

“Yes, well, maybe he just needs stiffer competition.”

“That a challenge?” Theo grinned as he held the darts in her direction.

“Oh, no.” Caro shook her head. “Not me. But I do believe someone up to the task just walked into the bar.” Her smile widened as she nodded toward the door.

Theo didn’t need to look to know exactly who had just walked into Quigley’s, that wicked grin on Caro’s face all the evidence he needed. That, and the little prickling sensation he always got on the back of his neck whenever she was around.

And yet, he still found himself turning as Lucy Buchanan made her way through the pub.

There wasn’t a person on this planet that drove him crazier. They’d almost always had an antagonistic relationship, even when they were children. As they had the same group of friends, they’d been forced to tolerate each other, something that had been a lot easier to do when she’d been living in Los Angeles.

She’d moved out there seven years ago to pursue her dream of music. Since then, he’d only had to see her when she’d visit a couple of times a year. Though that wasn’t the case at the moment. Lucy was back . . . for now.

Something had happened in LA, something she hadn’t confided in him about—not that he thought she would, they didn’t have that kind of relationship—and she was here while she regrouped. He was pretty sure the Cruickshank Hold wasn’t permanent when it came to her, and he wouldn’t be surprised when she packed her bags again.

But until that day, he was just going to have to deal with her being around. And as she was heading right toward them, tonight was going to be one of those nights.

She was wearing a burnt-orange peacoat, jeans that he instinctively knew were molded to each and every one of her curves, and short boots that showed just a scrap of the skin at her ankles. Her soft chestnut-brown hair was down around her shoulders, a slight curl at the ends. And to top off the pretty picture, her pert nose and round cheeks were a soft pink.

“It’s freezing out there.” She shivered slightly as she stopped in front of them, pulling a red scarf from her neck.

The chill from outside clung to her, but it wasn’t the only thing on the air. The scent of vanilla, cloves, and cinnamon filled Theo’s lungs. Seeing as he was a baker, it was a scent he was more than familiar with, especially this time of year. But it had never smelled that good.

“Well, warm up,” Max said as he filled a shot glass with whiskey and slid it across the table to her.

She didn’t even hesitate as she picked it up and downed it in one. “That’s better.” She sighed as she set the glass on the table.

“Where’s Sasha? I thought you guys were hanging out tonight,” Caro asked as she moved to help her little sister out of her jacket, revealing a cream-colored sweater. Another wave of vanilla, cloves, and cinnamon filled the air and Theo found himself taking a deeper breath.

“She’s over there.” Lucy pointed behind her toward the door, but the crowd of people by the bar blocked the view. “Adam Dennison was on his way out when we were coming in and he wanted to talk to her about something.” Lucy gave Caro a tiny little look, one that would’ve been missed by someone who didn’t know her well.

Oscar hadn’t missed it either and his eyes focused on Lucy, his mouth pulling down into a frown. “Wait. Who’s my sister talking to? And what did he want?”

“Adam Dennison,” she repeated. “And as I’m over here”—she pointed to the floor—“I don’t know what he wanted.”

“Didn’t we meet him the other day?” Theo asked, trying to focus on the conversation and not the sweet and spicy scent that fogged his brain. “He’s the new manager over at the bank.”

Gavin’s focus turned toward the bar, and he stretched up on his tiptoes trying to get a better view. “I don’t remember him. Maybe I need to go over there and remind myself.”

“Calm down, boys.” Lucy patted Oscar’s and Gavin’s chests before she reached for a french fry. “Sasha can handle herself.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Theo agreed. He’d gone to a kickboxing class with her once, and when they’d been partnered up, he’d found himself flat on his ass more times than anyone else in the class.

He hadn’t gone back again.

Lucy inhaled dramatically, putting her hand to her chest. “Theodore Taylor! Did you just agree with me?”

“Don’t call me Theodore. And don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

“I should hope not. It’s weird when we’re on the same page.” She grabbed another fry before pointing to the napkin in front of Max. “Who’s winning?”

“Theo,” everyone said in unison.

That same wicked grin Caro had been sporting just moments before was now lifting Lucy’s pouty mouth. Theo had tasted that mouth before. He tried not to think about that fact very much, but it was a lot harder when her lips were that pretty red . . . like a juicy apple.

“Want to play?” she asked him.

With her? No, no, he did not. And it wasn’t because she was the only real competition. He wasn’t afraid of her. He liked a challenge. It was just that playing with her always brought more complications. But he couldn’t show weakness. Not when it came to her.

“Sure.” He shrugged. “If you feel like losing.”

“Oh, big talk. Want to put your money where your mouth is?”

“Let’s play Around the Clock. Best out of three. If I win, you have to buy me a bottle of that whiskey.” He pointed to the one on the table.

“Fine.” She pushed up the sleeves of her sweater. “And if I win, I get a hundred dollars’ worth of free stuff from Browned Butter.”

The whiskey was only worth seventy-five, but as his family owned the bakery she was referring to, he had the advantage, what with markup and all.

“Deal.” He stuck his hand out and Lucy didn’t even hesitate before she reached out hers.

Despite her being cold when she walked in, her hands were warm. Her palm slid against his, fitting perfectly as they shook on the bet. There was a flash of something in her hazel eyes, the green becoming more pronounced.

When they let go, Theo dropped his hand, unconsciously making a fist as if he were trying to hold on to something.

On to what, he had no idea.

“What did I miss?” A new voice floated into Theo’s ears, and he turned just as Sasha Belmont joined the group. Her wildly curly hair bounced around her head as she pulled off her dark purple coat and jumped up onto the barstool next to her brother.

Theo had never met a family that was more clearly related than the Belmonts. They all had freckles dusted across their brown cheeks and noses, big smiles that lit up their entire face, and golden-brown eyes.

“We could ask you the same question.” Oscar looked over at her, that big smile of his nowhere in sight.

“What did Adam Dennison want to talk to you about?” Gavin asked as he folded his arms across his broad chest.

“None of your business.” Sasha gave them a not-so-sweet look before she grabbed a french fry.

“Well, I don’t like the guy,” Gavin pushed.

Caro looked over at him with an incredulous smile. “I thought you said you didn’t remember who he was.”

“I don’t.” Gavin shook his head. “That’s how I know I don’t like him.”

“Well, that’s just great for you.” Sasha patted him on the shoulder. “We’re done talking about Adam. Now, what were you two shaking on when I got here?” She looked back to Lucy and Theo, gesturing at them.

“Lucy challenged me to a game of darts.”

“Oh, well, the evening just got even more interesting. I’m going to need a drink while I watch her kick your ass.”

“And I’m going to need a drink while I kick his ass.” Lucy nodded to Theo.

“We’ll just see about that.” Theo shook his head.

“I’ll get them,” Gavin said. “What do you two want?”

“Whatever that is works for me.” Lucy nodded to the pitcher of beer.

“Same,” Sasha agreed. “But I’m going to start with one of those.” She pointed to the bottle of whiskey.

“Yeah, you need to catch up.” Max poured her a shot and passed it across the table. “Lucy’s already one up on you.”

“I’ve got to get back to work.” Caro leaned in and pressed a kiss to Max’s lips before taking a step back and looking at her sister. “If we were taking bets, my money’s on Lucy.”

“Hey!” Theo said in mock outrage. “See if you get any free doughnuts from me next week.”

“When I win, she won’t need any of your free doughnuts. She can have some of mine.”

“Exactly.” Caro laughed as she turned around and headed for the bar.

“Ladies first.” Theo nodded to the board.

“If you insist.” Lucy went over to where the darts were kept, grabbing the set with the hot-pink flags.

Theo couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering down, lingering on her perfect ass as she walked. He’d been right about her jeans. The dark denim hugged her in all the right places.

Lucy was all curves, curves Theo had once traced with his bare hands, curves that he’d worshipped with his mouth. It was knowledge that no amount of time or distance would ever make him forget . . . even if he wanted to.

He clenched his fists at his sides before letting go, wishing the memory away for the moment. It didn’t work. And he knew there was absolutely no hope for him that evening, a fact that was made evident as Lucy headed back over to him. There was a smirk pulling up the corner of her mouth that bugged him in every way imaginable.

“Ready?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Waiting for you.” He waved to the board before folding his arms across his chest.

That annoying smirk of hers grew as she turned and took her place behind the marker on the floor. Theo was only a few feet behind her, and a fresh wave of vanilla, cloves, and cinnamon filled the air as she swiped her hair over her shoulders. He’d almost been close enough for the ends to hit him in the face.

Lucy lifted her arm, taking a couple of seconds to line up her shot before the dart flew through the air. It hit hard in the patch of white that was under the one. She followed up that first throw by hitting the outer rim of red of the two and the inner black patch for the three. Everyone in their group—as well as the table of guys next to them—let out an enthusiastic cheer.

Theo didn’t mind the cheer but he wasn’t a fan of the way two of those guys were taking an extra-long look at Lucy.

Though he really wasn’t sure why he cared.

“Well, Theo’s night just took a turn.” Gavin looked delighted as he came back to the table, setting down another pitcher of beer and two glasses.

“You aren’t on my side either?” Theo asked his so-called friend.

“Not even a little bit.” Gavin shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I’m rooting for you.” Oscar clapped Theo on the back.

“Well, at least I got one.”

“What about you, Max?” Sasha asked.

“You think I’m going against the family?” Max looked at her like she was crazy. “I just got back into their good graces.”

“Plus, I’m your second-favorite person,” Lucy added.

“That’s true, kiddo.” Max reached up and ruffled the top of her head.

“Hey!” Lucy stepped back to get out from under his touch, which resulted in that perfect ass of hers colliding with Theo’s crotch.

A direct hit.

His hands instinctively landed on her hips, trying to stop her from pushing back farther into him. He didn’t mean to do it, but his fingers pressed into her, holding on before she quickly turned around.

This time he did get a face full of her hair and was pretty much punched in the nose with the scent of vanilla, cloves, and cinnamon.

“Sorry,” Lucy said as she pulled away from him.

Their eyes met and for just a second he thought he saw a flash of heat in her eyes. But she blinked, and it was gone.

“No worries.” Theo shook his head in an attempt to clear it of the scent of her . . . it didn’t work. She was everywhere on the air around him.

Shit. He needed something much, much stronger.

“I was just going for this.” He reached for the bottle of whiskey, pouring himself a shot before he drank it in one go. The burn of the alcohol down his throat helped a little in clearing his head but it did nothing for the feel of her that still tingled along his palms.

Maybe that was the reason he missed his first shot.

. . . and the second.

. . . and the third.