That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe (Abieville Love Stories #4)

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Sara

Kisses for Kids?

I gape at the sign like my eyeballs are magic laser beams that will morph the words into something else. ANYTHING ELSE. But they don’t. I’m in a nightmare, and I can’t wake up.

To be clear, I’d do a lot for kids. Just about whatever anybody asked me to.

Toys for Tots? I’m all in. Caroling at a children’s hospital? Sign me up. But kissing Three Fuller? In public? And being photographed while we’re doing it?

No. No way.

The cork board hanging on the wall behind the arch is already half full of Polaroids of couples kissing. My cheeks heat up, and I can practically feel my pulse leaping into warp speed. I’m barely in control of my emotions after spending less than two days with Three Fuller. Feeling his lips on mine again—even for charity—might blow my heart right out of my body and straight through the roof.

Now a sandy-haired man carrying a Polaroid camera is striding toward us. He’s wearing a Santa hat, and he reminds me of a Hemsworth brother, which is probably why he looks familiar. Either way, his face is screwed up like he’s confused.

Yep. That makes two of us, buddy.

When Santa Hemsworth reaches us, he sticks his free hand out to shake Three’s. “Hey, man. Aren’t you supposed to be on a cruise right now? At least that’s what Nella said. She asked me to keep an eye on her place while she’s gone.”

“Yeah.” Three releases Santa Hemsworth’s grip and pushes both his hands into his pockets. “Last-minute change of plans,” he grumbles.

“It’s all my fault,” I blurt before I can stop myself. My adrenaline’s kicked into overdrive and my pulse is racing. “Nella is on a cruise, and so is everyone else, but I attacked Three with a fire extinguisher, and he couldn’t travel because of the concussion.”

“Excuse me?” Santa Hemsworth blinks. “You … attacked him?”

“Congratulations.” Three lifts a brow. “You just confessed to Deputy Townsend.”

“Oops.” I grimace at the deputy, and my cheeks flame up even hotter than they already were. “Hello, sir. It was just one big accident. I promise. Please don’t arrest me.”

“Don’t worry.” He bobs his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Your secret’s safe with me …. umm …I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“Sara,” I rush to say. “Sara Hathaway. Nice to meet you.”

“Carver Townsend.” He shakes my hand, and his smile gets wider. “You know what? I think we actually met a long time ago. At a summer bonfire.” His gaze flicks to Three. “Your sister was there too, right?”

Three harrumphs. “I’m sure she was.”

Ahhh, yes. Carver Townsend. Now I remember why he looks familiar. Nella used to crush on this guy. Hard. I wonder if anything ever happened between them. They’d make a really cute couple.

“Carver lives next door to Nella now,” Three adds. And if I’m not mistaken, he moves an inch closer to me.

“Yeah.” Carver offers another head bob. “Nella and I are good friends.”

A beat of awkward silence stretches between us all until Three nods to indicate the mistletoe arch. “So I see you got roped into being the photographer for this thing, huh?”

“Nah, I volunteered.” Carver shifts his weight, shoulders hitching. “Anything for the kids, right?”

“Sure. Of course.” Three inclines his head toward the cork board. “But what’s the deal with the pictures?”

“It was Stanley’s brilliant idea. He seems to think more people will participate if they can get their pics up there on the wall, showing everyone else they donated. I figure people aren’t supposed to give to charity for the credit, but the farm’s matching all donations. So I can’t give him too hard a time for it, right?”

“Right,” I interject, gulping hard.

Carver’s focus bounces between Three and me. “So. Are you two here … together?”

“NO!” we both announce at the same time.

“Whoa!” Carver chuckles, lifting his palms in apology. “Sorry for the assumption.”

“I mean, we are both here ,” I rush to say. “Together. But we aren’t together together . ”

I glance at Three and catch the tic of his jaw. “I haven’t been in Abieville for almost a decade,” I continue. “I’m only back now because my mom and dad just finished renovating a home they bought on the lake.”

Something flits behind Carver’s eyes, and one corner of his mouth tugs up. “The old farmhouse across the bridge? Peabody’s place?”

“That’s the one.”

“So.” Carver keeps his eyes locked on mine. “Does this mean we’ll be enjoying your presence around Abieville more often?”

“NO!” Three and I both blurt again .

“My parents are planning to list the house as a vacation rental,” I explain. “I came to town for a few days to help with the process. Temporarily.”

Three grunts. “In other words, she’ll be gone by Christmas.”

“Ah. That’s too bad.” Carver flashes me a grin. “I would’ve liked to see more of you, Sara Hathaway.”

“Well, you won’t.” Three’s voice is gruff, and I totally get it. If I had a sister with a longtime crush on the same guy, I’d hate to see him grinning at another woman too.

“As long as you’re here now…” Carver jerks his chin toward the mistletoe archway. “How about a kiss for the kids, Sara? For old time’s sake?”

I gape at him. Is he seriously asking to kiss me right now? Charity or not, the man is little more than a stranger. And for all I know, Three’s sister still wants him. I’d never break girl code, no matter how many years have passed since I’ve seen Nella. But before I can turn Carver down, Three edges right up against me, using his body as a blockade.

“Not gonna happen,” he says, except it comes out more like a growl. He’s even more protective of his sister than I thought. And my heart swells a little at the proof of it.

“Whoa.” Carver guffaws. “I wasn’t asking for Sara to kiss me . I was talking about you two.”

“OH!” My whole upper body is officially on fire now. When I glance at Three, his teeth are clenched. But I shouldn’t be surprised. He ended things between us when I was handing my heart to him on a silver platter.

Why would he want to kiss me now?

“That’s okay!” I dig in my purse, hands trembling. “I’ll just donate the twenty dollars.”

“Thanks, Sara,” Carver says. “We sure do appreciate your generosity.” He nods at the cork board. “But Stanley really does want the photo evidence up on the wall to inspire everyone else to be generous too.” He hitches his shoulders. “ Come on, folks. Surely you can offer one innocent little peck between friends. It’s for the kids.”

“For the kids?” I squeak.

Three shifts his jaw. “Just charity,” he says. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Carver grins. “Yes, it does.”

I gulp. It does?

“Your kiss pic means more money for the kids,” he says. The next thing I know, he’s corralling Three and me toward the platform. I eye Three sideways waiting for him to launch an objection, but his expression remains stony and unmoved. He probably just wants to get this over with.

It doesn’t have to mean anything .

My heart pounds against my ribcage as we climb the steps to the stage. The archway is twinkling with lights and dotted by sprigs of holly and red bows. Carver arranges us directly below a good-sized bunch of mistletoe. As Three turns to face me, I swallow against the lump gathering in my throat.

“We can make this quick,” Three mutters under his breath. At least he’s breathing. I feel like my lungs stopped functioning the minute Carver suggested we kiss.

“Wait till I give you the signal,” Carver says now, backing away, holding up the camera. “I need you both in the frame. Okay, get closer, you two. Closer. Closer.” He scoffs. “Come on, man. She’s not gonna bite.”

Three and I inch nearer to one another until he’s towering above me, and I have to tip my head to meet his gaze. His blue eyes dip to my lips, his pupils dilated like big black olives. My lashes flutter against my will.

“You all right?” he asks. His Adam’s apple travels the length of his throat.

“It’s for the kids,” I whisper. “Just charity?”

“Yes.”

“And afterward we’ll never speak of this again?”

“Speak of what? ”

“The kiss.”

“Yeah.” He releases a breath. “You might need to work on the not-speaking-about-it part.”

“Okay,” Carver calls out. “You’re good to go! Kiss away.”

Three dips his chin and I rise up on my toes, slowly moving my mouth toward his. When our lips meet, soft and warm, light pulses through me—electricity at the barest of touches. The memory of being in his arms years ago sends shockwaves through my body. It’s as if no time has passed. Or eternity has come and gone.

“Hold still!” Carver says.

My knees buckle, and Three’s hand go to my waist, gathering my body back in. When his lips find mine again, I melt into his arms. I’m a goner. Lost to his embrace.

“Okay, got it!” Carver calls out. “You’re all done.”

No.

I am done for.