Home > Under the Mistletoe with Me (With Me in Seattle #1.5)(7)

Under the Mistletoe with Me (With Me in Seattle #1.5)(7)
Author: Kristen Proby

As much as I really, really want to stand and eaves drop, I decide I’ve heard enough and walk into the room. God, she looks so small against his wide shoulder and with his big hand on her back. He glances up and grins at me.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I woke and you were gone, so I thought I’d come find you.” I kiss Sophie’s soft head and inhale her baby smell and then lean over and kiss my sweet husband’s lips.

“Her highness was hungry.”

“So I see,” I reply with a chuckle. “You’re so good with her.”

“I hope so, she’s stuck with me.”

“Yeah, that’s not such a bad deal.” Sophie has fallen back to sleep. “Let’s put her back down and go back to bed, Eyes.”

He smiles. “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”

Chapter Four

“Why in the name of all that’s holy is it always so much colder at Christmas tree farms than it is anywhere else? Do they secretly have A/C piped in vents under the trees or something? Because I swear to God, it was not this cold at home.” I shift side to side, trying to keep warm and lift the blanket I have covering Sophie to check on her. She’s snuggled in her sling across my chest, warm as can be, sleeping soundly.

At least one of us is warm.

“I know how to warm you up, baby.” Isaac winks at me and flashes a wolfish grin and I can’t help but laugh.

“Yes, I’m aware, but I’m not taking my clothes off out here, buddy. So which one do we want?”

We are wandering around a tree farm, Isaac with axe in-hand, trying to find our Christmas tree. I’m not exactly sure why we’re getting a real tree, especially one we have to cut down ourselves, when I have a perfectly good fake tree in a box at home.

Isaac thinks that Sophie needs a real tree for her first Christmas.

“You know, Sophie isn’t going to remember this tree, Isaac. The fake tree would be fine.”

He turns to glare at me. “I’ve let you put that ugly ass fake tree up for the past eight years. We are getting a real tree this year.”

“What if we get it home and it has spiders in it? Or a squirrel?” I bite my lower lip, trying to keep my smile at bay.

I love irritating him.

“This is not National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.”

“Oh, I’m so relieved.”

“You’re a smart ass today,” he mutters as he continues to peruse through the trees.

“I’m cold. If I keep talking my lips won’t freeze shut.”

Suddenly, Isaac’s gloved hand grips the back of my head and pulls me to him. His lips claim mine, and he kisses me long and slow, his tongue tracing my lips and then tangling with my own. He nibbles the side of my mouth, rubs his cold nose against mine and sinks into me again, his lips soft and lazy. Finally he pulls back, his blue eyes shining, and exhales.

“Lips warmer?”

“Yes, thanks.” I’m struck speechless. Wow.

“Good. Let’s find Sophie’s tree.”

“This is a nice one,” he points to a large, full, tall evergreen.

“It’s way too tall.”

He eyes me speculatively, like I’m deliberately raining on his parade and I giggle as he reaches for his tape measure.

“Damn it,” he mutters and looks to the next tree.

Finally, we find the perfect tree and Isaac quickly chops it down, yelling “Timber!” as it falls to the ground.

“You’ve always wanted to do that, haven’t you?” I ask.

He laughs. “Yeah.”

He grips the freshly cut trunk and lifts it, ready to pull it behind him as we make our way back to the truck. On the way out, we stop by the farm store and buy some fresh garland, a wreath for the front door and poinsettias.

Isaac grabs some mistletoe and throws it on the pile and winks at me. “I love getting you under the mistletoe, baby.”


He grins again.

“You don’t need mistletoe for that.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Our house is going to be very festive this year.


“So, where are you?” I ask Brynna and glance around the pub from my corner table. Isaac asked me to meet him here when he got off work for drinks, thus beginning our new dating life, and I’m excited to see him.

“We’re somewhere in nowhere North Dakota,” Brynna responds dryly.

“How has the weather been?” I ask.

“Shitty. That’s why we’re in nowhere North Dakota. We’re taking it slow. I’m in no huge hurry, other than we’re running out of clean clothes and the kids are restless so I can’t drive as many hours of the day as I’d like.”

“I’m sorry, Bryn. What happened?”

“I’ll tell you about it when I get there,” she responds with a sigh. “There are listening ears in the backseat.”

“Okay.” My really cute, young, and possibly working his way through until his modeling career picks up waiter brings me my drink and winks at me.

“Thanks,” I mouth at him.

“No problem. I’ll check on you in a minute.”

The margarita is cold and tart and that first sip is heaven.

“How are you and Isaac doing? Any better?” she asks. I’ve confided in Brynna about the recent distance between Isaac and me. She’s the only person I’d confide everything in.

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