Page 25 of Christmas Fudge Fatality

“You’re just saying that.” I wave him off, secretly thrilled to have heard him say exactly that.

“He’s right.” Everett wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I’m putting in an order for a boxful.”

“I can arrange that,” I say as I give his svelte red tie a tug.

“How about a delivery to my place later tonight?”

Before I can answer the quasi-bawdy proposition, a loud howl comes from the entry to the room and we turn to find a man dressed in a Santa suit.

“Ho, ho, ho!” he bellows, and his fuzzy white beard slips down a notch, exposing the fact it’s Mayor Nash himself.

Mom quickly ushers him to the green velvet lounger, and soon everyone in the room is angling to snap a picture with him.

“Oh!” A thought comes to me. “I need to get my furry boys! Pancake and Waffles missed out on a chance to take a picture with Santa that evening because—well, you know.” I can’t bring myself to repeat anything else that happened that night.

“Good thinking.” Everett looks around the room until he spots my sweet piles of fluff convalescing near the Christmas tree. “I’ll grab Pancake.”

Noah tips his head. “And I’ll get Waffles.”

And they do just that.

Pancake and Waffles finally get their picture with Santa. And as soon as that flash goes off, they both use that bright red Santa suit as a springboard and propel right out of the room.

“Oh no!” My panic is short-lived as I give a sorrowful laugh. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

Noah shakes his head. “Good thing it happened here and they didn’t take off in the woods that night. That tree lot spans for miles. They could have frozen to death.”

Everett looks to me. “He’s not exactly a ball of sunshine, is he?”

“I’m a realist,” Noah answers.

Everett’s brows bounce. “So you must realize that some people are simply destined to be together,” he says as he picks up my hand and kisses the back of it.

“I sure do.” Noah glides between us, and before I know it I’m in his arms as he spins me in front of the fire. “Merry Christmas, Lottie.”

Everett shakes his head as he presses those glowing blue eyes into mine. “Merry Christmas, Lemon. I hope you get what you wish for.”

I take a step back from Noah and look from him to Everett. “I already have it. In abundance.”

Pancake and Waffles saunter back into the room and twirl themselves around my ankles.

“Come here, you two.” I bend over and pick them both up at the very same time and press a kiss to each of their foreheads. “I really do have it all.” I turn until my sweet cats and me are facing the room. “Merry Christmas, everyone.”

“Merry Christmas,” the rest of the room chimes back.

“Merry Christmas!” Greer and Winslow shout from the chandelier. The bulbs blow out and we’re left with candlelight and the glow from that beautiful Christmas tree in the corner.

And just like that, it’s a happy haunted holiday after all.