The Trouble with Mistletoe

“Almost done,” Keane said.

Tina gave a big, deep laugh. “You’ve been saying that for months. Maybe you’ve grown too attached.”

Keane just smiled. “How are the muffins this morning?”

“Out of this world, don’t you doubt that for a single second.”

Keane grinned at her. “I’ll take half a dozen of your finest.”

Two minutes later, Willa and Keane were outside. The morning was still gray but their way was lit by the strings of twinkling white lights, casting the cobblestones in black and white bold relief.

She watched Keane take in the two newest Christmas trees, one in front of O’Riley’s Pub, the other in front of Reclaimed Woods, both decorated in simple red and gold balls. The only sound around them was the soft trickle of the water flowing from the fountain and some lovelorn crickets mourning the dawn’s lack of warmth.

“Legend states that if you make a wish with a true heart, true love will find you,” she said.

He met her gaze. “Legend also states that if you put your tooth under your pillow the Tooth Fairy will leave you cash.”

She slowed, as always the fountain calling to her to make a wish. Keane slowed too, looking at her with a question.

She searched her pockets for change, but could only come up with a dog treat. “Damn.” It was the swear jar’s fault, all her spare change always ended up in there.

“What?”

“I wanted to make a wish,” she said.

A small smile crossed his face. “You want to make a wish? You’ve lived here for how long and you’ve never made one?”

“Oh, I have.” She paused. “I like to.”

This garnered her a raised brow. “How many times have you wished?”

She bit her lower lip.

“More than once?”

Well, crap. How had they gotten on this subject? “Um . . .”

“More than . . . five?”

“Gee, would you look at the time?” she asked and tried to go but he caught her and brought her back around, his smile now a broad grin.

“Fine,” she said. “If you must know, I toss a coin in every time I walk by.”

He lost the battle with his laughter and she stared at him. Seriously, he had the best laugh. “It worked for Pru, I’ll have you know,” she told him. “She wished for true love to find Finn, and then he fell in love with her.”

And Willa had been wishing ever since, even knowing how ridiculous and silly it was.

“So . . . you’ve been wishing for true love for who exactly?” he asked.

She stared at him in dismay. How had she not thought this through? “Me,” she admitted, slapping her pockets because surely she had even a penny. “But I intend to fix that right now. I’ll just wish for love for someone else.”

“Who?” he asked warily.

She narrowed her eyes at his fear. “You. Got any change?”

He laughed. “Absolutely not.” Then he pulled a dime from his pocket and held it up. “But how about this. I’ll wish for you.” And on that, he tossed the coin into the water.

Plop.

“There,” he said. “Done. Hope it works out for you.” He sounded fairly certain that it would and equally certain that it wouldn’t be with him.

Which was good to know. Except it was also a little bit not good at all. “So you’ve never made a wish on true love before?” she asked.

He laughed. “No. That was a first.”

“Because . . . you don’t believe in true love?”

To his credit, he didn’t brush off the question or try to tease his way out of answering. Seeming to understand how much it meant to her, he shrugged. “For some people, yes.”

She nodded even as she felt a small slash of disappointment go through her. How silly was that? It wasn’t as if love had worked out for her either. But she knew what the real problem was. It was that Keane had been clear about not wanting or needing anything serious in his life and yet here she was, finally feeling ready for just that in hers.

“And you?” he asked.

She stared at the water because it was far easier to talk to the fountain than hold Keane’s too-honest gaze. “I’ve seen bits and pieces of it here and there. I know love’s out there.”

His eyes were solemn, intense, as he turned her to face him. “But?” he asked quietly. “I’m sensing a pretty big but here.”

“But sometimes I’m not quite sure it’s out there for me.”

His gaze searched hers. “That seems pretty jaded for someone who wants everyone to believe in the magic of the holidays.”

“Christmas has a happy connotation that brings joy and warmth. It comes every year, rain or shine. You can count on it.”

“But not on love,” he finished for her. His hand came up and he brushed a strand of hair from her temple, his fingers lingering. “I don’t think it’s always like that, Willa. For some people, love’s real and long-lasting. Forever.”

“For some people,” she repeated. “But not you? If you believe in love, why don’t you believe in it for yourself?”

He shook his head. “I don’t feel things deeply. I never have.”

She stared at him, dismayed. “You don’t really believe that.”

“I do.”

“But . . . I’ve seen you with Petunia.”

He laughed. “Exactly. You’ve seen me dump her on you. I’m willing to pay a cat-sitter rather than deal with her.”

“When you’re at work, yes,” she said. “But you’ve never once asked me to board her overnight when you were home.”

“You board overnight?” he asked hopefully.

She laughed and smacked him lightly on the chest. “You know what I mean. You’re frustrated by her and yet you still spend the money and time to make sure she gets good care when you’re busy.”

“Because she’s my aunt’s cat,” he pointed out.

“Which is yet more proof. You’re not close to your aunt but you took on her cat for her, without question or qualm.”

“Oh, there was qualm,” he said. “Buckets and buckets of qualm.”

“You bought me muffins,” she said softly, undeterred. “You wanted to cheer me up because I was upset.”