The Snuggle is Real (Christmas Falls: Season 2)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Mason

“Griff!”

I jogged across Sugar Plum Park, my knitted scarf blowing into my face.

I spit out yarn and tugged it down, my cheeks stinging. Damn. And I thought Missouri got cold.

Griff turned from his conversation by the makeshift stage, where a group of frozen-looking choir members were singing carols in quivering voices to a small audience.

He patted the arm of an older gentleman dressed in overalls and a thick plaid coat and headed toward me.

“What brings you out on this lovely day?” Griff asked with a sardonic twist to his mouth.

I shivered. “You’re impossible to pin down at the office.”

He chuckled and started walking. I hustled to keep up. “Sorry. I’m all over the place during the festival. Everything good for your pop-up booth at the Santa pics event?”

“Yeah, thanks for setting that up. I wanted to talk to you about something else, actually. I would have just left a message but your voicemail was full.”

He pulled a face. “I’m very popular this time of year.”

“Right. Yes. I’m sorry to be one more bee in your bonnet.”

“But?”

“I’m working on this new program for Holiday Hope Foundation. I’m calling it Adopt-A-Family for Christmas.”

“Uh-huh.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and read the screen. “And?”

“And, I’d love some complimentary festival tickets.”

Griff tapped away on his phone. Apparently text was how you got him to answer. Good to know.

“What do you think?” I prompted.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” He tucked the phone away. “Have you heard about this Secret Santa thing? Folks are asking if it’s a festival gimmick.”

Secret Santa? That’s what my note said on the pie left on my porch. Rebecca said she wasn’t the one to leave it, but I still had no clue who had.

“Other people got things with a Secret Santa note?”

Griff scowled at me. “Did you?”

“Er, yeah. Sorry.”

He waved away my apology. “Not your fault, but it better not be some sort of secret game like last year’s holiday graffiti.”

“Oh, you mean those cool murals on some of the buildings. I saw one that was a tree made out of words and?—”

He huffed. “Yeah, so cool, I know. But it was all kept hush-hush last year. Quite the holiday mystery.”

“Oh.”

“I should have known. I’m the freaking festival organizer, but noooo…”

I stood in the freezing cold wind, shivering, wanting nothing more than a piping hot drink—other than Griff’s agreement to my plan.

Which I hadn’t gotten a chance to fully explain yet.

“So about those festival tickets…”

“Right.” He seemed to shake himself out of his funk and continued walking—toward heated buildings, thankfully. “I thought the foundation was more for giving folks coats and scarves. Maybe a gift or two to put under the tree?”

“We’ve been growing.”

He nodded. “Sure, sure.”

“That means our mission can grow too, and I became aware of a gap in services, you know? Families need coats and scarves and holiday meals, sure.”

“That sleigh delivery was great,” Griff said. “Heard a lot of good feedback.”

Warmth suffused my chest. “Thanks. I know it’s late in the season to be launching any new programs.”

“It is.”

“But you heard about Ford Donnelly’s situation?”

He cast me a sidelong look. “Former stepdaughter landed on his doorstep for the holidays? Her mama in rehab? It’s a lot to handle, for sure.”

I nodded. “Christmas is a demanding time in any city, but especially Christmas Falls. And families don’t need just food and clothes for their kids. They want holiday magic. They all deserve it, right?”

We paused on the sidewalk, letting a reindeer-drawn sleigh go by, before crossing the street.

“I think I see where you’re going with this.”

“If I can get the festival on board, I can get local businesses too. With enough sponsors, we can adopt a family to get the full holiday experience.”

“Just one?”

“Well, for this year. Ford and Charlie are a trial run, if you will. I saw a need, and I wanted to fill it.”

“You wanted something,” he muttered under his breath.

“Excuse me?”

He chuckled. “Nothing. I’ll leave some tickets at the office for you to pick up tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Griff. Really!”

He pulled that pesky phone out of his pocket once more, getting another text. “Damn it. Every year, someone drops out. Un-fucking-believable.”

Without another look, he stormed down the street, a force of nature.

I still wanted that coffee, but the bakery, Ginger’s Breads, was closer than the coffeeshop, and besides I wanted to ask about that Secret Santa pie.

The scent of fresh-baked bread, sugar, and cinnamon greeted me when I stepped through the door. I stopped and inhaled, flooded by warm memories of my mother’s kitchen this time of year.

Not everyone was blessed with a mother who made magic in the kitchen, but I was. And that pie that’d been left on my doorstep had been almost as good as the ones from my childhood.

I walked up to the counter, where the big ginger, Joel McArthur, waited to take my order.

“Hey, Mason. What can I get ya?”

“Something hot,” I said with an exaggerated shiver.

He laughed. “It’s a nasty one today for sure. Well, we’ve got complimentary self-serve coffee, but how about a dirty chai brownie heated up and all gooey inside?”

“You’re making me drool already and I haven’t even tasted it.”

“We aim to please.”

While he rang up my order, I gave him a quick spiel about what I was trying to do with the Adopt-A-Family program.

Giving was easy—and the best part of my job. But asking for donations? That was hard. The squirmy discomfort in my gut as Joel considered my proposition made me sympathize with Ford.

I kept telling him he could accept help. But the foundation needed help too. It was one big cycle of giving and receiving that made our nonprofit work.

“I really like the idea,” Joel said with a quick smile. “As long as the giving isn’t going to break my bank, I’m happy to give back to the community.”

“Thanks so much. Actually…” My eye caught on the Christmas cookie kits in the display case. Instantly, I remembered a story Ford had shared while we watched the parade. “One of those would be perfect for the family we’re adopting.”

“Oh, yeah? Do you want to take it now?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he said, reaching into the case for it.

“I’ll come back with a receipt for you. You can claim these donations on your taxes. In the meantime, I’ve got a question.”

“Fire away.”

“Do you bake a cranberry-apple pie here?”

“I do.”

“It’s amazing. My mom makes one for Thanksgiving, and I was totally missing her, and then someone gave me one, which I assume was yours. Just wow.”

Joel blushed a little. “Thanks. I appreciate that, Mason.”

“There was a note on the pie, from a Secret Santa.”

“Oh, really?”

“Do you know who it was?”

“No, sorry. I got quite a few orders this year. I always offer pies for folks to take home, and it’s pretty popular around Thanksgiving.”

“Maybe you could check your records though. I’d really like to thank them.”

“Just a minute.” Joel disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a minute later with a heated-up brownie. “Sorry, Mason. I don’t feel comfortable giving out names since there were multiple orders. I’m sure if they wanted you to know, they’d have signed their actual name.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks again for contributing.”

“No problem. Let me know if I can do anything else. Maybe a basket of baked goods for Christmas morning?”

I held out my card to pay for the brownie. “You read my mind, Joel. That would be absolutely perfect.”

He slid my cookie kit across the counter toward me. “We aim to please. Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t,” I said with a smile.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to be single?”

I froze, shocked. Word around town was that Joel was very happily in a relationship with Hayden Bradley.

“Oh, not for me!” he said quickly with a laugh. “It’s just, uh, Hayden’s got a friend who moved to town, and he’s been working with the matchmaker without much luck.”

“There’s a matchmaker ?”

Joel grinned. “Wild, right?”

“Like an honest-to-god helps you find love matchmaker?”

Joel’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, apparently he’s quite good at it. Although the jury’s out on how effective he’ll be this time.”

“Wow.” I shook my head. “Christmas Falls really does have everything.”

Joel looked at me expectantly, until I remembered his original question.

“Oh! Oh, I’m single, yeah, but?—”

He winced. “Are you straight? I’m so sorry.”

“No, no. Gay as my purple coat indicates.” I chuckled nervously. “Just married to the job right now. But…thanks. I’m flattered that you think I’d be of any interest to this mystery friend.”

“Leo,” he supplied. “He’s really quite sweet, and so are you. But I’ll leave the matchmaking to the experts.”

I shoved a bite of brownie into my mouth before I agreed to a date with some guy I didn’t even know just because Joel was so dang charming.

With an awkward wave, I hustled over to the coffee station and finally got the hot drink I’d been craving.

But I still had no idea who this mystery Santa was—or why they’d chosen me of all people to comfort on Thanksgiving Day.

I was used to being the giver, not the recipient. But I was damn grateful they’d given me a taste of home just when I needed it most.