What Mistletoe Is For (Blushing Books 12 Days of Christmas 2) Read online

  What Mistletoe Is For

  The 12 Days of Christmas, Book Two

  By

  Kira Barcelo

  ©2015 by Blushing Books® and Kira Barcelo

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

  a subsidiary of

  ABCD Graphics and Design

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  The trademark Blushing Books®

  is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Barcelo, Kira

  What Mistletoe if For

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-68259-197-0

  Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the Author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  PSSST..... AMAZON CUSTOMERS.... FREE STUFF

  Do you love Blushing Books and our spicy stories by your favorite authors, Breanna Hayse, Vanessa Vale, Maggie Ryan, Yasmine Hyde, April Hill, Carolyn Faulkner, Alta Hensley, Stevie MacFarlane, Mariella Starr, Maren Smith, Misty Malone, Maddie Taylor, Bella Bryce and dozens of others?

  We have our own store, but we know many of you prefer to buy from Amazon, and now we’re making it much easier for you. We’ve started a new newsletter, aimed at just our Amazon customers.

  We’ll be sending out one newsletter per week, letting you know about our most recent releases. In addition, everyone on this newsletter is guaranteed TWO free stories per month, and to sweeten the deal, we’ll be giving one person on the list

  A $25.00 AMAZON GIFT CERTIFICATE

  every week. Nothing to buy... just stay on our list and you’re eligible for the drawing.

  Signing up is easy. Just text blushing2 to 22828

  OR use this link.

  WOULD YOU LIKE FREE STORIES ON YOUR KINDLE EVERY MONTH?

  That's right. FREE. And we're not talking about some short “throw-away.” Every month, Blushing Books gives our customers two novel or novella-length stories (typically at least 15,000 words) completely free. You can always download our current month's stories at our website, located at http://www.blushingbooks.com.

  But we're offering an additional service for Kindle customers - we'll send the monthly free stories directly to your Kindle device. They will also come automatically if you’re using a Kindle app on your smart phone or tablet. You don't need to do anything, pay anything or remember anything. Every month, free stuff will just magically appear.

  Here’s how:

  1. Email us at [email protected], and put FREE KINDLE STORY in the subject line of your email. The email address you mail FROM will not be kept or mailed in any way unless you also sign up for our newsletter with that address.

  2. In the body of your email, you will need to provide your KINDLE's email address. Your Kindle email will end with @kindle.com. If you do not know your Kindle email, you need to log on to your Amazon account and find it under "manage my Kindle."

  3. You’ll also need to add [email protected] to your permitted email list on Amazon (otherwise your Kindle will not accept email from us.) If you don’t do this step, you will not get the story. This is also found under the "manage my Kindle" section of your Amazon account.

  Once we get an email from you, you'll be added to our free monthly story list. You'll receive two free stories per month. And remember, if you prefer, you can always get the free material at www.blushingbooks.com.

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Epilogue

  About Kira Barcelo

  Ebook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  About Blushing Books

  Chapter One

  Being at Mountainside Hospital wasn't the way Casey Jordan-Minter had planned on spending her Saturday morning, but that was what she'd signed up for when she chose to become a midwife.

  Really, she had planned on taking her twin nieces to see Santa at the mall. Their mama, Casey's sister Erin, would be there too, but it was supposed to be one of those "Aunt Casey Days." After that, she would pop by the supermarket, do a little grocery shopping—because it was the Christmas season, after all, and she had been told she had to make her famous Christmas cookies—and then go for a ride early in the evening.

  Instead, she was in the delivery room, helping one of her favorite patients bring her first and only child into the world. As far as Casey was concerned, that was the best reason ever to adjust her own schedule.

  "Almost there, Lori, honey," she urged encouragingly. "Give me another good push, okay? You can do this!"

  Certified Nurse Midwife, aka Medical Professional, aka Big Sister, aka Cheerleader. She could have worn all those titles, although occasionally some patients had more peppery names for her. They were the ones who complained about everything, chose to be non-compliant, and were snippy with everyone they encountered at the clinic from the OB/GYNs on staff on down to the receptionist who checked them in for their appointments.

  That wasn't Lori Calhoun. Lori was a sweet lady, thirty-seven years old, who'd been classified as high risk because of advanced maternal age and because she'd had two miscarriages before that third pregnancy.

  Casey had taken extra time with Mrs. Calhoun, answered her questions as best she could, assured her that every pregnancy was different, and prayed for her. All of that was worth it when that baby slid out of the birth canal, the blood and amniotic fluid all over Casey's gloved hands, still attached to his mama by the umbilical cord.

  "Well, hello, Luke!" she exclaimed, her voice filling that room.

  "Luke! Oh!" Lori cried out with tears of joy.

  Tears also stung Casey's eyes. That wasn't the first time she'd cried with a patient, either.

  Two miscarriages. No one could blame Lori Calhoun for being fearful through much of that third pregnancy, believing she would lose that baby, too. Casey handed the newborn to a nurse, who wiped the blood and fluid from his little body, diapered and wrapped him in a blanket in front of his daddy and maternal grandmother. In record time, the nurse had little Luke in his mama's arms.

  "Good job, Mom. You did good," she complimented Lori.

  "So did you!" Her patient smiled at her through her tears. "I'm so glad it was you here this morning, Casey. I was hoping it would be you who came."

  She chuckled and remembered to make way for Mr. Calhoun, who was trying to hold back his own tears and wasn't at all succeeding.

  Casey had seen Lori's husband on more than one occasion. She usually came by herself, or accompanied by a friend, but now and then the dad-to-be had brought his wife to her appointments. The first time she saw him, he nearly took her breath away. Not because he was so terribly handsome, either, though he was an attractive man, and certainly not because she was crushing over a patient's husband.

  It was just that he had reminded her so much of her Gary. Funny, how seven years had passed, and still she thought of and missed her husband.

  "If you hurry, Casey, you can still have somewhat of a decent Saturday," she heard a masculine voice say behind her.

  Casey had changed back into her
own clothes, which that day consisted of a pair of black jeans, her favorite white-and-black sweater, her cowgirl boots and her pea jacket. Draped over her shoulders was a scarf, one of several that she liked to wear as soon as the North Carolina autumn moved in each year. Behind her, passing by the elevator banks where she waited, was Dr. Donald Lister, one of the clinic's two obstetricians. By his lab coat, she could tell he wasn't as lucky that day and would probably be there a while.

  "I've already had a pretty cool Saturday," she countered with a grin.

  "Oh, yeah?"

  "Yep. Brought an 8-pound-nine-ounce baby boy into this world."

  He laughed. "That's not a baby. That's a future Carolina Panther!"

  "Let's hope so."

  "Yeah, they could use the help."

  "Are you New York Jets fans always this obnoxious?"

  "I'll take that as a compliment," he responded, winking at her.

  "Goodbye, Doctor," Casey drawled.

  "See ya Monday, Case."

  The doctor was right: a glance at her cell phone indicated that it was 12:10. That meant she still had time to meet her sister and her kids at the mall, though she would have to decide between grocery shopping or riding at that point. Otherwise, she would be cramming too much activity in too few hours of the day.

  For Casey, the decision was an easy one; she could always go shopping tomorrow. Today, or early tonight, she was going riding, if only for an hour or so.

  Once in her Prius, she adjusted the rear view mirror, switched on the satellite radio, and carefully steered out of the hospital's parking deck. It had begun to snow again, the second time that week, while she was doing her job in the delivery room. How apropos? "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" was playing on one of her favorite stations. The same station, in fact, that had begun to play Christmas tunes right before Thanksgiving.

  And Casey would tune in every day until New Year's, when they usually stopped with the season's tunes. That was her favorite time of year—that stretch of time between Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's, though she was absolutely partial to Christmas. She couldn't say that a few years back, when her husband had died in late October. For a while, it had felt like she was only going through the motions. Maybe now she was healing because she was finally looking forward to the holidays again.

  Her cell phone rang just as "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" was giving way to Eartha Kitt's forever sexy "Santa, Baby." Casey used the car's hands-free feature to pick it up.

  "Hey, I have two six-year-olds who want to know if Aunt Casey is still coming," her sister, Erin, said on the other end.

  "Tell 'em yes! Tell 'em to hold on—I'm comin'!" she called out with gusto. "Tell 'em we have a date with the jolly, chubby guy in red!"

  Erin laughed. "Okay. Meet you over by Cheesecake Factory."

  "No, no, uh-uh. Too cold for that. Don't you dare wait outside."

  "Yeah, you're right, Doctor."

  Ignoring her usual tease—her baby sister called her "Doctor" just to playfully bug her—Casey suggested, "Meet me by the Dunkin Donuts inside. We'll pick up a latte and then mosey our way over to take the girls' pictures."

  "Sounds good, honey. Don't rush. Be careful driving."

  "See? Who needs a man?" Casey asked herself after hitting the END button and turning onto the highway.

  Her life was full enough without one. About a year ago, in a weak moment (or maybe it was the frozen margaritas they were sipping on that night), she had let her best friend, Lisa, talk her into joining one of those online dating sites. How else did people meet each other nowadays? Casey had just turned the big four-oh that year. It was different when a woman was younger, and guys were plentiful in high school and college, or even on those rare times when she would hit the clubs with her friends.

  But she was never really a club girl... or as her dad called it, a "bar-fly." She had always been an outdoorsy girl. She liked hiking, fishing, and sleeping under the stars up at her parents' cabin right off the Blue Ridge Parkway.

  Most of all, she loved riding, whenever she had the chance.

  That, she wouldn't put off tonight. That hour would belong to her and Storm.

  How many people could say that? Of course, how many wanted their own horse? But anyway, she had her horse, a job she loved, and her family. She had already been in love once. What was that they said about lightning? That it didn't strike twice?

  Whatever it was, when it came to men, lightning could go right ahead and strike some other woman, for all Casey cared.

  *****

  "Excuse me—you're Casey Jordan. That right?"

  She straightened up and turned. Embarrassingly enough, she'd had her back to the entrance of the stables. She'd given whoever that man was a view of her ample bottom, clad in tight, black, stretch denim jeans.

  He cut some figure in that doorway, too, she had to admit. In that cowboy hat, flannel shirt and faded jeans, he looked like he'd stepped straight out of a classic western movie. Lean, with broad shoulders and a chest that nearly made a "V" as it narrowed to his waist. She could see hints of gray in his hair, peeking out of that hat.

  "Casey Jordan-Minter," she corrected the man. "I was married. My husband died in a wreck a few years back."

  There was a pause before he took a few steps forward. "I'm very sorry about that, Casey. Guess you don't remember me, huh?"

  Oh, no. Now I gotta be "on." She wasn't into being social at that hour. It had gotten steadily colder ever since she'd said goodbye to Erin and the twins and she'd left the mall. Not cold enough to keep her from taking a ride on Storm and now brushing him, but she wanted to finish up and go home, to her nice, warm house, in a few minutes.

  After a second, she recognized him. Some years had passed since she'd last seen him, and though he was prematurely gray and his face had more character—he was at least five years older than her, if she recalled correctly—he was still a ruggedly handsome man.

  "Preston?" Casey coughed out a laugh. "Preston Fuller?"

  "In the flesh!" He also laughed, and he must have taken that as a green light to take a few more steps forward. "I didn't realize you board your horse here. Nice horse, by the way."

  "Thanks. You board yours here, too? How come I've never seen you before?"

  "Oh, I just bought the place."

  Beside her, Storm, an American Painted Horse, dipped his head. Even her equine friend seemed to be reacting to that news.

  Casey cleared her throat. "You bought the stable? That's right—I heard the old owners were having a hard time."

  "They were. And for me, it's an investment." A big grin stretched across his face. "Plus, I get to be around horses. You'd know about that."

  She managed to keep smiling. That was right; that was common ground between them, back when, as Erin put it, she and Preston were an "item."

  Horses, and their mutual love for them, was about the only thing she'd had in common with Preston Fuller, the man she'd dated before Gary.

  Preston had the distinction of being the first man who'd wanted to take that walk down the wedding aisle with her.

  "I do," she said proudly, patting Storm's side.

  "When'd you get that beautiful horse?"

  "I've had him for about a year."

  "Finally took the plunge and got him, huh?"

  "Finally. Should've happened a long time ago."

  "You still working at the hospital?"

  Casey shook her head. "I'm at a clinic now. And I'm playing midwife now."

  He appeared to like the way she'd said that. Preston had a sense of humor, and she remembered he admired that trait in women, too.

  "Playing midwife!" he repeated. "You went back to school?"

  "Yep. It's been a long time, Preston," she pointed out. So don't look at me with those hungry eyes, she wanted to add.

  Who was she to talk? If he'd been babelicious before, he was even hotter now. Preston Fuller had always been a smoldering mixture of businessman and cowb
oy. He had also taught business briefly at the community college. After a couple of semesters, the money hadn't been enough to warrant having his schedule so full. Preston had left teaching in favor of chasing other pursuits.

  Not the least of which had been writing.

  "I'm proud of you," he surprised her by saying.

  Uncomfortable with talking so much about herself, she asked, "So you raising the boarding prices, Mr. New Owner?"

  Preston pursed his lips, his eyes full of mischief. "Not yet."

  "Ha!"

  "But, seriously, I'm not sure what I'll be doing with the place. Differently, I mean. Though I would like to start up the riding academy again."

  "That'd be good. I think they only stopped it because—well, monetary reasons, I guess."

  Casey held the brush she'd been using on Storm's coat and mane at her side. Out of sight. Correction: Out of Preston's sight. Surely not out of mind. Her mind. It was bringing up all sorts of prickly memories, all of which made her feel like squirming.

  "You get married, too?" It was a valid question. She was only being curious, not asking for any other reason.

  "Engaged briefly. Didn't work out," he answered honestly. "Not ruling it out, marriage, maybe later on."

  Hmm. I am ruling it out. Been married once.

  Better to change the subject. Or better yet, to head home.

  "You'll be closing soon," she said. "I'd better get Storm to bed."

  "You don't have to feel rushed. I'm in the office, going over the books, having coffee and stuff."

  She glanced appreciatively at him. "Thanks, but it's getting cold anyway."

  "That's true. Temperature's going down even more tonight. You don't want to get sick."

  Preston hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. She had the impression he would have wanted to stay and talk, but he wasn't the type of man to force his company on anyone.