Cowboy Under the Mistletoe. Linda Goodnight

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СКАЧАТЬ He’d been entertainingly inept at the grocery store, and he’d made her laugh over a can of spinach.

      “Stop calling yourself a stork. You know how many times I’ve wished I was tall enough to reach the second shelf in the kitchen cabinet?”

      “I can change a lightbulb without a chair.”

      “Lucky duck.”

      Faith laughed and hooked an elbow with Allison. “Come on. I have a stack of RSVPs to go through. Let’s see who’s coming to the biggest party in town.”

      With the wedding in three weeks, time was running out for all the last-minute details. “I touched base with the band and the caterer this morning, and scheduled the final fitting with all the bridesmaids.”

      “And?”

      “Everything’s a go. The caterer even managed some vegan dishes for Jayla and her friends after I sent over some suggestions.”

      “She’s a genius.” They settled side by side on a fawn-colored couch. “So are you. How do you find time for all this?”

      “The perks of working for family. When the office is slow, I make calls or run errands.”

      “Saturday for the bridesmaids, right? What time?” Faith chewed the edge of a fingernail.

      “Stop that.” Allison swatted her friend’s hand. “Ten o’clock. Which reminds me, are you going for acrylic nails or natural?”

      “Do you actually think I can keep my hands out of my mouth in the weeks preceding the most important day of my life?”

      “Not a chance. Acrylic it is. Have you made the appointment? What about your hair?” Allison went down the list she’d checked and rechecked dozens of times. Faith had been known to forget the details. Allison was a detail girl.

      A stack of wedding RSVP envelopes—in the same white pearl as the mountain of invitations the two of them, along with Faith’s mother, had addressed weeks ago—waited in a box on the coffee table. “Have you opened any of them?”

      “I was waiting for you.”

      “Good. I want to keep a list.”

      “And you know I’m lousy with lists.”

      “Part of your charm. You’re marrying a statistician. You don’t have to worry about lists anymore.” Allison grabbed a stack and a letter opener. “Put acceptances in the white box, rejections in the blue one.”

      As they sorted the cards, they talked. About how hard it would be to live three hours apart. About the darling house Faith and Derrick had purchased in Oklahoma City. About the honeymoon in Saint Thomas. If Allison felt a twinge of envy mixed in with her absolute delight for her best friend, she didn’t acknowledge it.

      “Derrick’s brother is pretty cute, don’t you think?” Faith’s voice was casual but she didn’t look at Allison, a sign she was trying—and failing—to be subtle.

      “Yes, and nice, too, like Derrick.”

      “And? He’s the best man. You’re the maid of honor. Maybe you could get something going, and we could be sisters-in-law?”

      Allison laughed. “Marrying your husband’s brother would not make us related. Besides, I like being single.”

      “You do not. We’ve both waited long enough. Now that I’m getting married, you should get serious about finding someone.”

      She’d found someone once-upon-a-fairy-tale. But her fairy tale had turned into a horror flick.

      In self-defense, she said, “I went to the movies with Billy last month.”

      “Last month! Allison, do you know how pathetic that is? And you only went with him because his sister asked you to take pity on him.” Faith put the stack of envelopes in her lap. “Jake’s the problem, isn’t he? Like always.”

      Was she that transparent?

      “Maybe.” Probably. “But that was years ago.”

      “You still have his picture in your wallet.”

      “I never got around to taking it out.”

      “You’ve changed wallets a dozen times since then. Which means he’s still stuck in your head and your heart. So now that he’s back you need to do something about him.”

      “And cause the biggest war since the Hatfields and McCoys?” Allison shook her head. “I only want to make things easier for him. Our teenage romance is long behind us.”

      Faith rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. This is me you’re talking to. You have never—I repeat never—laid to rest the issue of Jake Hamilton. Every guy is measured up against your handsome cowboy, and then you kick them to the curb like a pop can.”

      Allison sighed. Faith was right. Even when she’d wanted to move on and forget her feelings for Jake, she never had. They’d been prematurely interrupted and she’d never liked unfinished business. It was so untidy. “I don’t know what to do. I wish my brothers could get over themselves.”

      “If wishes were horses. Stop wishing and go for it. Your brothers should have nothing to do with your romantic life, so get to know Jake again and see what happens.” Faith ripped open another RSVP. “I have an idea. Invite him to the wedding. We still have invitations.”

      Allison’s heart jumped. “He won’t come.”

      “You never know until you try. Sit right there.” Faith pointed at Allison as she hurried out of the room, but stuck her head around the door facing. “Do you want anything to drink while I’m up?”

      “Water would be great.”

      “Got it. I hear Mom in the garage.”

      While Allison opened, sorted and listed RSVP cards, a nervous pulse ticked in her temple.

      The unresolved heartache of a first love that had crashed and burned pushed to the surface like a dead body in water. She had loved him as much as any teenager could. He’d seen her at her worst, her most humiliated, and had never judged her. On the other hand, he’d stood her up at the graduation dance.

      Did she really want to revisit either of those places again?

      She stared down at the vellum cards and thought of all the weddings she’d attended, of the tiny unacknowledged ache to find her own true love.

      Faith was right. She needed to explore this thing with Jake and put the issue to rest once and for all.

      “Hello, Allison.”

      Deep in thought, Allison jumped when Faith’s mom, Ellen, trudged into the room wearing blue scrubs, a testament to her nursing job. She wiggled her fingers and padded on silent white shoes down the hall and out of sight.

      “Your mom looks tired,” she said as Faith returned, bearing a white invitation.

      “Eight СКАЧАТЬ