Very Merry Wingmen Holiday Collection Page 2

  Hailey makes a cooing sound like a dove when she sees her. “You got bigger this week. I think you popped.”

  Is popping a good thing?

  Diane doesn’t appear so sure. “Suddenly, I’m huge.” She rubs her belly and smiles down at her hand. Some weird pride or other emotion lodges itself in my throat at seeing her loving expression.

  Huge softie. But I’ll deny it if anyone asks or comments.

  “Where’s Tom?” I need reinforcement. I need my wingman. I stare out the glass doors. All I can see is a reflection of the three of us. It’s only five o’clock, but it’s completely dark out already.

  “He’s running late, but said he’ll find us.” Hailey smiles at Diane, reaching out to touch her belly. “Can I feel?”

  “Sure. Sometimes the baby kicks after I’ve been stretching. I don’t think she likes it.”

  Hailey’s eyes widen. “She?”

  Diane nods. “Well, this week I think she’s a she. John’s being old fashioned and doesn’t want to know the sex until the birth.”

  “I’m convinced he’s a boy.” I cross my arms. Boys I can handle. Little girl? I’m not ready for that. I know too much about guys like Tom and me to be able to survive raising a girl.

  The two women give me sympathetic frowns, but amusement flashes in their eyes.

  “What?”

  Diane flattens her expression. “Nothing, honey. Girl or boy, you’re going to be an amazing poppa.”

  My neck prickles in embarrassment. This is too much.

  “I’m going to stop by and check on Olaf at The Dog House before this thing starts. You know how he gets cranky when there’s going to be a big crowd and a whole hullabaloo.”

  “Right, Olaf gets cranky.” Diane nods. “Sweet of you to check on him. We’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

  “Okay.” I rub my neck. “Good. I’ll text Tom and tell him to meet me there.”

  I give her a quick peck on the cheek and nod goodbye to Hailey.

  Their heads are together in whispered conversation before the door closes behind me.

  I need a beer and some testosterone.

  I text Tom.

  He replies in a few seconds that he’ll meet me at The Dog House.

  I laugh at my best friend. He knows me well.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tom

  “Hey, Tom.” Erik Kelso is setting up a bar stool outside the front door of The Dog House as I cross the street. His Santa hat droops over the left side of his head. He resembles an oversized elf.

  “Pretty cold out here for sidewalk drinking.” I stop next to his perch. The forecast is for flurries and the damp night air is cold enough for snow. “Or is Olaf carding tonight?”

  “Ha, when was the last time Olaf paid for a bouncer?” Pointing above our heads, he gives me a grin. Hanging over us is a ball of mistletoe. I step back and away from its shadow. All along the street, balls of greenery and mistletoe decorate the doorways. Some shops even have chalkboards outside to tally kisses. I have to give the guy credit for the stool.

  “Nice,” I tell him.

  He holds up his fist for a bump. “I figure why try to work the entire street, when I can sit here comfortably and wait for the ladies to come to me. Carter is pissed he didn’t think of it first.”

  I look around for the other Kelso brother, but don’t see him inside at the bar.

  “Carter’s down the block at the pizzeria. We decided to divide and conquer.”

  Resembling big yellow puppies, the two of them could be John and I a few years ago. I hate to admit it, but their game might even be better than ours. I never thought to set up a stool under a kissing ball. That’s horny guy genius at work right there.

  “The women won’t know what to do with themselves.” I bump his fist, giving him his deserved props.

  “Speaking of women, does Hailey have any clue what you’re planning for Christmas?”

  I shake my head. “So far, nope. You guys coming over tomorrow to help me? The girls are scheduled to head over to Seattle to go shopping for the day. I figure we can get the framing up while they’re gone. It’s all loaded on the flatbed over at the farmhouse.”

  As weird as it might seem, I’m liking, hell, even enjoying, living with Hailey. Sharing the house and especially my bed with her has been easier than I imagined.

  However, sharing a shop space between a welder and a carver has been less than ideal. My barn is big enough for the two of us, but wood and sparks aren’t a great mix. So I’m building a small shop for her. That way she can listen to all the Backstreet Boys music she wants.

  She’d kill me if I told anyone she still loves ‘90s boy bands, but I don’t think people would be shocked if they found out. The new shop will be pretty small, under a thousand square feet, but vented and all open for her torches. She can still store stuff in the barn.

  “So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Erik asks.

  “We’re loading up the framing on the flatbed in the morning. I poured the foundation a couple of weeks ago when she and her mom went on a girls’ weekend. It’s been covered under a tarp so she doesn’t get suspicious.”

  “She’s not suspicious about a tarp in the yard?” He gives me a doubtful look.

  “I threw a bunch of carvings and stumps on it and then covered those with another tarp.”

  He nods in support of my genius. “You’re a duplicitous bastard, Donnely. How’d you ever get a hot babe like Hailey?”

  “Big word. You studying to pass your GED?”

  “Ha ha. I graduated college. I’m just saying you being all monogamous is pretty strange.” He lifts his pint glass to take a swig.

  Smug asshole. I flick the bottom of the glass, causing it to over tip, spilling a thin stream of beer down the front of his jacket.

  He sputters and wipes at the beer. “Hey! What was that for?”

  I shoot him a dirty look. “That’s for suggesting I’d ever cheat on Hailey.”

  His eyebrows furrow and his mouth hangs open a little. “I’d never do that. You aren’t that stupid. And even if you were, I’d be first in line to console her.”

  I swat at his head. “There’s going to be no need for you, or anybody else, to console Hailey. She’s mine and I plan to keep it that way. For a long time. Forever. Got it?”

  He holds up his hands. “Got it. Damn, you’re so sensitive these days. You and John both are whipped hard.”

  “You should be so lucky.” I laugh and cuff his shoulder before opening the door.

  “I’m trying to get lucky. Why do you think I’ve got my stool here?” His chuckle fades as I enter the bar.

  Olaf grumbles hello and puts two pint glasses on the old wood bar. “That kid’s going to be trouble tonight.”

  “You didn’t have to serve him. Or give him the stool.” I knock on the window to scare Erik. He bounces off the stool and it tumbles over. Flipping me the bird, he straightens up and resumes his seat.

  Olaf’s laughter turns into a cough. “Eh, he’s better out there in the cold than in here where he bothers me. At least I don’t have to listen to him.”

  I sip the foam off of the pint he pours for me. Outside, more people pass by on the sidewalk, their cheerful voices carrying through the glass.

  “Damn revelers,” Olaf mutters.

  “You seem in fine holiday spirits, tonight, O.” I spin on my stool to observe him. For as old as he is, and he’s got to be in his sixties now, he’s still pretty spry. Or maybe ornery is the word I mean.

  “Bah humbug.” He scowls. “There’s going to be caroling later. If people want to sing, that’s fine, but standing outside someone’s place of business and singing at them feels like harassment. If I wanted to hear all those women singing off-key, I’d go to church. You see me in church on Sunday, Tom?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Can’t say that I have, O. Then again, I’d have to be there to see you.”

  “That’s my point exactly.”

  My gaze flicks left to right
as I try to figure out his point. That we’re both sinners? “Not following you.”

  “All this fuss and cheer. I don’t need it.” He gestures at the strand of multi-colored lights in the window and the faded paper Santas taped to the walls in a couple of places. It’s not exactly a holiday wonderland in here.

  “Nice kissing ball outside, O,” John says as he sits on the stool next to me.

  Olaf practically spits. “They hung that up this morning without my permission. Now that Kelso boy has taken up residence underneath it for the night. Probably going to nurse that one beer and scare away my paying customers, too.”

  John faces me with an alarmed look in his eyes. His beard twitches as he fights a smile. “Olaf seems to be in a good mood.”

  I nod, struggling not to laugh. “Where are Hailey and Diane?”

  “They’ll be here in a bit. I left them at the studio, cooing over babies.” He takes a long pull on the beer O set in front of him.

  We both silently drink our beers and stare out the window past the colorful lights.

  John breaks the silence. “You get the ring from your grandmother?”

  “Yeah. It’s in my glove box.” I even locked it just in case. “I had to swear Gramma to secrecy. She wanted to tell my mom. Mom would tell Lori and there wouldn’t be any point in trying to surprise Hailey.”

  “I almost mentioned something at the studio.”

  “What the hell, dude?” I stare at him. “You what?”

  “Calm down. I didn’t. Hailey walked in on Diane and me … not full out, but you know, and I got flustered.”

  “Dude.”

  “I know, I know. It’s serious business. I’m still kind of surprised you’re doing it so soon.” He takes a swig.

  “If Pops taught me anything, it’s that life is short. Why wait if I know this is forever?”

  John spins his own wedding ring around his finger. “I understand. Completely.”

  “You’re on schedule for Diane’s surprise?” I ask.

  “Should be. I got a text from Maggie that she was at SeaTac about an hour ago. She and Gil were driving up from Portland for the weekend. Turns out, she’s picking up more friends who have a flight around the same time, so they’re taking two cars. It all worked out perfectly. ”

  “That’s pretty cool your neighbor was willing to help you out, considering.”

  He arches his eyebrow. “Considering?”

  “What a crush you had on her and how she flirted with you.”

  “Yeah, that’s ancient history. I owe her big time for renting to Diane.”

  I nod in agreement. Movement outside the window catches my eye. “Speak of the wife …”

  Diane is waving at us, while Hailey chats up Kelso. With a jolt, I notice MY girlfriend is standing directly under the kissing ball.

  Oh, hell no.

  I bolt from my stool, leaving it rattling behind me as I rush the door.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Hailey

  Strong arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me off my feet and spinning me onto the sidewalk. I squeal and thrash about until Tom’s voice whispers against my ear.

  “If anyone is going to be kissing you tonight, tomorrow, or any other night for the foreseeable future, it’s going to be me. Me. No one else.” His breath warms my ear and cheek. He sets me down, turning me to face him.

  Before I can ask him what the hell is going on, his lips crash onto mine. His mouth is demanding, claiming. I can’t breathe, but I don’t dare stop kissing him. Not that I have a choice. Oxygen is overrated.

  My body responds to him. I press myself closer, wishing I didn’t have this puffy jacket creating a down version of bubble-wrap between us. My hands go to his face, anchoring him to me. His arms wrap around my waist.

  “Well, that mistletoe seems to be working.” An older woman’s voice breaks through the sound of my blood pumping in my ears. I break away from Tom’s mouth. I can feel the heat from his beard on my cheeks and chin. I look up to see we’re standing underneath a ball of mistletoe.

  “That was one helluva kiss you two. I’d say get a room, but you’re already living together.” Erik’s sporting a smug smile. I forgot he was sitting here. Diane’s studying the greenery above the chocolate shop next door, avoiding our make-out session.

  Tom’s arms are still around my waist. We’re blocking the entire sidewalk and the door to the bar.

  “Was it the mistletoe or did you miss me?” I try to pull away, but he tightens his hold.

  “I missed you.” He gives me a peck on the mouth. “Missed you.” He kisses me softly. “So much.”

  I arch back so I can see him. “And?”

  He slowly blinks at me. It’s his innocent look. For when he’s up to no good or has done something he thinks will piss me off.

  With a slow exhale, he releases me, but grabs my hand in his. “Kelso looked like he was going in for the kill with you standing under the mistletoe. I couldn’t let that happen.” He glowers at Kelso, who gives him a wolfish grin.

  Part of me wants to be mad. I don’t need a man getting all territorial over me like a dog toy. On the other hand, when Tom gets jealous, he gets this look on his face that I find ridiculously hot. Like he’s about to drag me back to his cave. I’ll never admit to him that I like it. Or how much it turns me on. Never. He’s ego is big enough already.

  “Tom …” I try to pull my hand back.

  “Hailey …” He pulls me closer. I try to resist. I do. I step back and dig in my heels. He’s stronger than me and when I give in, I fall into his arms. “I can’t help it. I don’t trust those Kelsos.” He leans down to kiss me, but I sense him eyeing Erik behind me.

  A group of a dozen carolers surround us, singing enthusiastically and very loudly, forcing us to move out of their way.

  “‪Here We Come a-wassailing‬,

  among the leaves so green.

  Here we come a-wandering,

  so fair to be seen.

  Love and joy come to you,

  and to your wassail, too…”

  Diane shelters herself in the doorway of the shop next door. Only the ball on her knit hat is visible. I can barely make out the top of John’s dark head in The Dog House’s doorway. Erik on his stool, Tom, and I make up a strange audience trio.

  Tom backs us up so we have the window behind us. Our legs hit the bench below it and we sit down. Might as well. There’s no escaping the hoard of singers.

  My eyes meet his and we widen them in a silent conversation.

  He leans toward me and whispers in my ear, “What’s a wassail?”

  Without turning my head, and with a forced smile on my face, I whisper back, “I have no idea, but it’s both a noun and a verb.”

  Thankfully, the song comes to an end. Sadly, we never learn the definition of wassail.

  We clap and smile, and clap some more. Amongst the brightly dressed revelers, I spot Sally in a Christmas sweater with Rudolph and his red nose blinking on her chest. Next to her is Sandy, in an equally bright holiday sweater, covered in three-dimensional, sparkly tinsel. Both are outdone by Connie’s sweater. Her chest is covered with a puffy Christmas tree, complete with ornaments hanging off of it and strings of lights, which are also blinking. Combined, the blinking and sparkling could give someone a seizure. What’s a word for beyond tacky?

  “Happy Holidays!” they shout at us in over-zealous merriment. I grip Tom’s hand. Honestly, I’m a little afraid right now.

  Tom flinches beside me.

  We wish them the same. John squeezes past Erik to join us.

  “Oh, John. We didn’t see you there. Where is that lovely wife of yours?” Connie cranes her neck to look around him, as if he’s shielding Diane behind him. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.

  “Oh, look John, you’re under the mistletoe.” Sally purrs, slinking toward him.

  You’ve never seen a man move so fast. I nearly choke on my laugh.

  “Hailey.” Erik points above my head. Damn mi
stletoe is everywhere. I give Tom a quick peck. He isn’t expecting it. I get mostly cheek and beard.

  “Where is Diane?” John scans the crowd.

  “She’s over there.” I point to the empty doorway. “Or she was.”

  A few seconds later, Diane appears with a waffle cone in her gloved hand. It looks to be a triple scoop of chocolate ice cream.

  With a sheepish smile, she greets us. “I got hungry waiting for the singing to finish. I wasn’t sure how long it was going to last. And John promised me a cookie earlier, so I had sweets on my mind.” She licks the cone and closes her eyes in pleasure. Opening them again, she asks, “Anyone want some?”

  We all decline.

  “We wanted to let you know we started a pool on the baby at the bank,” Connie chirps with delight. “People have to guess the date, time and the sex, since you won’t tell us.”

  “We have another one going at the grocery store.” Sandy adds. “A dollar a guess. We’re up to thirty-five dollars so far, and it’s only been up this week.”

  John grumbles and walks over to Diane. “You’re betting on my baby?”

  Diane’s hand on his arm stops his grumbling. “Oh, that’s sweet. Please don’t feel hurt, but we’re not telling anyone the sex because we don’t know it.”

  “And I think it’s actually called gender now.” John’s voice is calm like he’s talking to young children.

  The three women murmur and smile at him in return. There’s a flurry of oohs and aahs when Diane pats her belly.

  It’s a little disturbing. I wonder if she feels like a prized heifer these days. I wonder if I’ll feel like a cow when I’m pregnant.

  If.

  I mean I’m not planning to get pregnant right now. I wasn’t like Lori growing up–always counting the number of kids I’d have.

  If.

  Tom and I haven’t even been dating that long. Yes, we’re living together. Yes, I love him. But we’re not ready for kids. Not like Diane. She was ready the second she and John got married. Maybe even before then.

  Although, little Toms running around would be really cute. Floppy blond hair and his dimples in a pint size person? Adorable.