Page 28 of Meet Me on Mistletoe Lane

I stepped inside the B&B and sighed, immediately feeling my body relax in the heat coming from the parlor room fireplace and the familiar ticking of Nona’s old grandfather clock.

“The Baileys are in the North Pole, third-floor suite,” Aunt Sofia said before stepping back outside to finish her crochet.

Each room on the main and second floors were decorated in different Christmas themes like White Christmas, Cozy Cabin Christmas, Blue Christmas, and even Gingerbread House. But the third floor was always my favorite because of the North Pole theme. Two reindeer statues with faux fur and real pine wreaths flanked either side of the door that led upstairs to the grand suite, which took over the entire floor.

I knocked and waited a moment, but no one answered, so I opened the door and started ascending the twinkle-lit stairs, each one adorned with a different wooden toy.

“It’s Gianna Mancini,” I announced as I climbed. “I come bearing gifts!” At the top of the stairs, I patted the head of Hermes, a very old rocking horse that had once belonged to my dad, before rounding the corner. “Who wants cook— Oh my gosh!” I froze and put my hand over my eyes.

Because standing just a few feet away was James.

Shirtless.

Dripping wet.

And wearing only a red towel around his waist with the quote Why Is the Carpet All Wet, Todd?

I peeked through my fingers to see if he had moved at all.

Nope.

Still there.

And half naked.

He smirked as he rubbed a second, green towel with the matching quote I Don’t Know, Margo! over his blond hair. “Did someone say cookies?” he asked.

My heartbeat raced as I tried to look around the room but kept getting distracted by the broad chest assaulting my eyes. “Yes, um”—Wow, that is one toned stomach—“I’ll just set them…” I darted behind the closest Christmas tree and stuck my arm out, the bag with the box of cookies dangling from it. “Here.”

James laughed and stayed on the opposite side of the tree as he took the bag from my fingers. “They smell amazing.” The bag crinkled. “Is that raspberry?”

“And lemon,” I added, adjusting a Santa ornament in front of my face, because what else was there to do except stare at his naked chest?

Which had the slightest bit of hair swirling around his nip—

Oh my GOD, Gianna, do NOT stare at those.

I started as a bedroom door opened behind me with a loud creak.

“James, can you call down to Sofia and double-check that there is, in fact, a router somewhere in this old house? The Wi-Fi keeps dropping, and I got kicked out of a very important Zoom. Oh.” Mr. Bailey, still dressed in a suit, stopped short. “Ms. Mancini, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in. James!” He grabbed a shirt hanging over a chair and threw it at his son. “For God’s sake, put something on, will you? She doesn’t need to see that.”

Oh yes, she does…

“There’s a router,” I blurted. Think about computers, G. Boring, cold, non-sexy computers. “It’s just not a great one. The Wi-Fi is stronger in some other places in town, though,” I said, stepping away from the tree now that James was fully clothed.

“Delightful,” Mr. Bailey muttered before taking a long look around the main living area. “James, when I told you to unpack your suitcases, I meant to put the items away. You’re seventeen years old, for Christ’s sake. When will you ever—”

“Gianna brought cookies!” James held up the bag like a peace offering.

“We already had dessert—”

“And there are lemon ones.”

“Lemon?” Mr. Bailey’s eyes widened. “I love lemon. Do they by chance have powdered—”

“Sugar?” I added. “Yep. A Linzer torte without powdered sugar would be criminal.”

“Quite right, Ms. Mancini.” Mr. Bailey walked over to the old desk facing one of the twinkle-lit dormer windows and placed his laptop down before grabbing a small notepad and pen. “Would you mind writing down some of those places with the good Wi-Fi? I have several important meetings I can’t miss.”