Page 45 of The Mistletoe Kisser

Ryan tossed his phone over his shoulder into the back seat. “Great news,” he said, the words dripping with sarcasm. “Apparently Rainbow Berkowicz is the only bank employee who can help me. No one else is authorized to talk about it.”

Which meant she was most definitely still stuck with him. They both sighed. He turned to glare at her. “I don’t know what you’re sighing about. You get a delightful companion for your morning and I’m the one hung out to dry.”

“I don’t think you know what ‘delightful’ means,” she pointed out. “Besides, it’s not a contest to see who is most inconvenienced.”

“Well, if it were, I’d win since I flew across the fucking country.”

“Yeah, yeah. Christmas in Blue Moon. Worst day ever. Buckle up, grump.”

He dragged on his seatbelt and clutched his coffee. “What’s the next stop? More baby goats to examine? Perhaps a problematic pony?”

“Nice try. Next up is llamas.”

He blinked. “Llamas?”

“Llamas.”

Blue Moon CommunityFacebook Gossip Group

Marsha McCafferty:Old Man Carson’s nephew is the Liam Neeson of accountants! He just saved me from an IRS scam! If you see him around town, give him a hug, buy him a drink, and ask him for accounting advice!

12

“Llamas are stupid animals. Why do they even exist?” Ryan groused, shoving Sammy into the passenger seat.

“They’re actually domesticated South American pack animals that can carry up to thirty percent of their own body weight. And I am perfectly capable of driving,” Sammy chirped. He found her enthusiasm while she bled from a wound on her arm irritating.

“Stop being so cheerful. You’re injured. You were violently attacked,” he insisted, opening the glove box and digging out a wad of fast food napkins. He pressed them to her forearm, where only moments ago, one of the disgusting beasts in the backyard of the green cottage had sunk its huge teeth into her.

“Bet you’re glad now that I made you get new clothes,” she mused. He glanced down. They were both covered in green, frothy liquid. It smelled like fresh-cut grass and bile.

Ryan’s New Plan

1. Track down Rainbow.

2. Solve Carson’s problem.

3. Shower for at least an hour.

4. Nap.

5. Book plane ticket home.

6. Never get within twenty feet of a stupid llama again.

He applied more pressure. “You sure know how to show a guy a good time, Sparkle.”

She snorted. “You’ve never spent a morning getting spit on by bad-tempered llamas before? You are missing out, my friend.”

“I refuse to believe it’s still morning. I feel like I’ve been awake for a week straight. Does it hurt?”

The woman had taken him to a relatively normal-looking house on the outskirts of town. The lots were bigger, but there was a sidewalk out front, for Christ’s sake. That was supposed to mean civilization. Not near-death experiences with farm animals.

Apparently, Blue Moon had no town ordinance about housing violent, flesh-eating woolly mammoths, since Charisma Champion with the Cher hair and gypsy stylings—he didn’t need a palm reading, thank you very much—had two of them in her backyard. Oh, sure, they’dlookedharmless. Who would be afraid of a giant pipe cleaner with legs? But those two-inch long buck teeth were capable of inflicting serious damage.

The male, Fernando, had waited until Sammy was paying attention to the girl, Abba, before trotting over and sinking his yellow fangs into her forearm.

“It was a love bite,” Sammy scoffed. “Besides, you’re the one who got kicked.”