A Mistletoe Christmas. Carla Cassidy
at the mere sound of her voice. “I was wondering if you and Libby would like to join me tonight for dinner at the Mistletoe Mountain Restaurant.”
“Oh, that’s one of the places Libby and I had on our list of things to do before Christmas, but had decided we’d do it next year because it’s rather expensive.”
“If you come with me tonight, then you won’t have to worry about the expense. You’d both be my guests.”
“Jake, it’s too much,” she began to protest.
“Don’t you worry about anything but putting on your pretty clothes and being ready around six,” he replied. “Besides, you’d be doing me a favor. That place has the best steaks in the entire state and I’m hungry for one, but you know I don’t like to eat alone.”
She laughed, obvious of the fact that he’d turned it around so that they would be doing him a favor rather than the other way around. “Okay, then, we’ll be ready at six.”
What are you doing, man? he asked himself once he had hung up the phone. Mistletoe Mountain Restaurant was located ten miles outside of the town. It was built on a hill that overlooked one of the mistletoe farms and was a favorite for tourists and townspeople celebrating special occasions.
He and Stacy had talked about going there often but had never actually gone. This would be a new experience for him as well as Melody and Libby.
The afternoon crawled by, and he was grateful when it was time to shower and dress for dinner. He exchanged his jeans for a pair of black dress slacks and his flannel shirt for a long-sleeved blue button-up shirt. Splashing on cologne, he then took a little time to polish up his black cowboy boots, and with his hat on his head, he took off for Melody’s place.
He tried to ignore the quickened beat of his heart in anticipation of spending another evening with her, but there was no denying that he felt like a schoolboy headed on a date with a popular cheerleader.
Even his palms were slightly damp by the time he pulled up in front of her house. Dusk had fallen, and night wasn’t far behind.
Melody’s house looked like an homage to gaudy. Not only did colored lights outline her house and end at a huge, bright white star at the peak of the roof, but each window was also framed by flashing purple lights. Jake had a feeling the purple lights were the idea of the little purple-loving princess.
He got out of his Jeep and walked to the front door. When Melody answered his knock, for a moment he couldn’t speak as he took in the vision of her in a royal blue dress cinched at her slender waist with a blue-and-black belt. Her legs beneath the flirty skirt appeared to go on forever and ended in a pair of blue high heels.
“Wow,” he finally managed to say. “You look absolutely amazing.”
“Thank you, sir. And you clean up pretty well yourself.”
Libby came down the hallway in a purple velvet dress and with a tiara on her head. “No tiara,” Melody said, and held out a purple coat with white furry cuffs to her daughter.
“But you said it was a fancy restaurant, and I want to wear it,” Libby protested.
“How about we compromise?” Jake suggested. “You can wear it on the way to the restaurant, and then when we get there you can take it off.”
“Fine,” Libby said in a tone that belied her acquiescence.
Melody pulled on a black coat and the three of them left the house.
“I made sure to reserve a window table so you and Libby will be able to see the mistletoe farm,” Jake said. “They have lots of lights turned on at this time of year so tourists can see the trees.”
He glanced in the rearview mirror to see Libby staring at him, so he continued explaining that there weren’t mistletoe trees, but that the plant grew on other types of trees. “Mistletoe is like a baby monkey wrapped around a mama or daddy monkey,” he said, hoping he was using a description that she would understand.
“I just like mistletoe because everyone in town likes mistletoe,” she replied.
She didn’t say another word to him or to her mother for the remainder of the drive. Jake found it hard to divide his attention between the road and the beautiful woman next to him.
He thought he’d never tire of looking at her, and it wasn’t just because her features were arranged in delicate beauty, but rather because she radiated such warmth, because her eyes held a wonderment and curiosity about everything. He knew instinctively that she was a woman who embraced all that life had to offer.
When they arrived at the restaurant, built to appear like a rustic mountain resort, Libby reluctantly removed her tiara and the three of them headed for the front door.
Melody released a small gasp of pleasure as they stepped into the restaurant. Although the outside had looked like a well-kept sports lodge, the interior was sleek, with intimate tables lit with candlelight and pictures on the walls that turned photos of mistletoe into works of art.
“It’s all so beautiful,” Melody said softly as they were led to a table by a large window. Jake pulled out her chair for her and then did the same for Libby. When he was seated, the hostess handed him the wine list with the promise of a waitress arriving quickly.
He’d thought Melody couldn’t get lovelier, but as he gazed at her with the candlelight dancing in her eyes and on her features, he’d never seen anyone prettier.
“Any particular kind of wine you like?” he asked. He tore his gaze from her and instead looked blankly at the wine list.
“I wouldn’t mind a glass of white wine, but I’m certainly no connoisseur. When I buy wine I always buy whatever is on sale.”
Jake turned his attention to Libby. “And what would you like to drink?”
Libby frowned thoughtfully. “Do you think they have root beer?”
At that moment the waitress arrived, and Jake ordered white wine for Melody, red for himself and a tall root beer for Libby. The waitress left behind menus, and for the next several minutes they talked about what they all wanted to order.
Once the orders were placed, Jake directed their attention out the window, where bare trees were lit with white lights, and nestled in the boughs were the green balls of mistletoe plants.
“Cool,” Libby said. “I always thought mistletoe grew on mistletoe trees.”
“It grows on all kinds of trees,” Jake replied. “Oaks and elms, even apple trees can host mistletoe plants.”
“I like my apples with cinnamon, not mistletoe,” Libby replied.
By the time their meals were delivered, the conversation was light and easy. Even Libby was animated as she explained to Jake the difference between a leotard and a tutu.
Jake was both electrified and surprised that having dinner with Melody and Libby felt so natural, so right. About halfway through the meal, he began to have trouble focusing on the tenderness of his steak and instead began to wonder if Melody’s kisses would be just as tender. He wondered if her skin was as soft and silky as it appeared in the candlelight. Somehow, some way, she’d lit a fire of desire in him, one that had caught him by surprise.
“Cowboy Jake?”
Libby’s impatient voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Yes, Libby?”
“I asked you twice if we could get dessert,” she exclaimed, and then smiled at him brightly. “Dessert might make me like you better.”
Jake laughed. Whether Libby liked him or not, he was growing quite fond of the little minx. “There’s no way we can end our meal without dessert.”
Libby gave him a little smile. “Then I’d like ice cream with chocolate syrup.”
They were a merry group when they finally left Mistletoe Mountain behind. Libby chattered