Santa’s Mistletoe Playbook

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

brYSON

B ryson bent to sniff the colorful bouquet Danica had left him. He reached inside the gift box and lifted out a cookie.

“Mm, these are good. You should have one.” He offered the box to the attractive woman behind the nurse’s station, who’d eyed him like a succulent shrimp ever since he’d arrived on his first day.

She batted her thick eyelashes with a demure smile. “Pick one out for me.”

He handed her a cookie and waited for her to bite into it. “Good, huh?”

“These are my absolute favorite.” She chewed slowly, obviously for his benefit. “Oh, your girlfriend wants you to call her.” She waved her cookie dismissively.

“Thanks. I’ll leave the flowers and cookies here for everyone to enjoy.” Bryson tugged on his heavy jacket.

“You’ve seemed down in the mouth all day. Is your girlfriend trying to make up for something?” This nurse had been on a never-ending fishing expedition for information about him from the moment he came through the door.

He wouldn’t take the bait and instead smiled. “Nope, just being thoughtful,” he lied. He wished it was only that.

“A bunch of us are getting together at Wolfpack Brewhouse after work. Want to come? I could cheer you up.” She gave him a hopeful, seductive look.

“Thanks for the invite, but I have plans.” He politely smiled and hurried off to the elevator, tapping Danica’s number. No answer. Why isn’t she picking up?

Bryson hurried out to his truck and headed up the snowy road to the house. When he opened the garage door, the Prius was gone. Where would Danica go in this snowstorm after dropping off the flowers and cookies?

All day, he’d fought with himself about Danica’s antics last night. If he couldn’t trust her not to do what she did last night, he didn’t see a way for their relationship to move forward. She’d sworn off alcohol after the first two times this happened and promised never to do it again.

Yesterday he’d gone out and purchased an engagement ring, planning to give it to her for Christmas. But now he had second thoughts and stuffed the ring box inside his duffel bag.

He searched the house, calling Danica’s name.

Where is she? Why isn’t she answering her phone?

He’d prepared what to say to her—that they should cool things for a while, and she should move out when they return to Arizona. Those thoughts were replaced by worry as he eyed the blowing snow.

Danica was probably in Anchorage since he hadn’t seen the Prius on the way up here. Hopefully, not anywhere near alcohol. For a moment, he stood glued to the floor, swinging like a pendulum between anger and worry. Out of spite, he was tempted to accept the nurse’s offer to meet up at the Wolfpack Brewhouse.

He didn’t know where to search for Danica. Oh wait, yes, he did. He tapped Monty’s number. When he answered, Bryson asked in an accusatory tone, “Is Danica with you?”

“What? No. Why would she be with me?” his friend tossed back.

“I can’t find her. She took Mom’s Prius, and she won’t answer her phone.”

“Want me to help you look for her?”

Bryson pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved out an exasperated sigh. “No, it’s snowing too hard. She’s bound to turn up, eventually.”

“Dude, I’m sorry about last night. All my fault for talking her into those shots. You should have been truthful about the reason she couldn’t drink.” Monty sounded penitent, and it was hard to stay pissed at him.

In his opinion, most of the blame was Danica’s, anyway.

Bryson blew out air. “It’s something neither of us likes to talk about.”

“That bad, huh?”

“She has an alcohol intolerance that messes up her brain more than the average person. Anyway, I got to run. I have to go find her.”

Monty paused. “Okay, buddy. Let me know if I can help.”

“I will.” Bryson ended the call.

Although he was angry with Danica’s actions last night, he still worried about her. If he couldn’t get hold of her soon, he’d call the state troopers.