Page 77 of The Mistletoe Kisser

“We’re fucked,” Carter Pierce muttered under his breath.

Aurora’s red head swiveled around and eyed her uncle. “I heard that, Uncle Carter,” she whispered. He reached forward and tugged a fire-red curl.

“If you have the experience we’re looking for and you have time you’re willing to donate, we will be eternally grateful,” Beckett said. “Please see Rainbow Berkowicz after the meeting, which ends now.”

Bruce popped back up at the microphone, blowing his nose noisily into a handkerchief. “I would like to issue a public apology to the fair and just people of Blue Moon. Amethyst and I plan to throw ourselves on the mercy of the court—”

“This isn’t a court, Bruce,” Beckett said, wrestling the microphone back. “You can apologize later when we don’t have a Solstice to celebrate and six months of financial records to recreate. Thanks, everyone, for your time. If you can volunteer, please see Rainbow.”

Ryan had every intention of seeing Rainbow,he thought grimly.

Beckett made a gesture toward the back of the theater. The spotlight dimmed and the microphone’s audio cut as Bruce launched into another convoluted bid for forgiveness.

Ryan saw Sammy eyeing the line that was already forming. “I should volunteer,” she said half to herself.

“Do you have accounting experience?” he asked.

“Not exactly. Phoebe Pierce handles my books.”

“Then I suggest you leave it to the experts.”

“Who? Mason?” She nodded at the aisle where Mason was surrounded by a crowd five people deep in all directions. Everyone was volleying rapid-fire questions at him.

“If you get involved in that mess, you’ll regret it,” he advised.

“That’s not how things are done around here,” she said, blue eyes narrowing. “We don’t just turn our backs. We help each other out.”

“Relax, Sparkle. I have a feeling the perfect solution will present itself,” he assured her.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Since when are you Mr. Positivity?”

“Me? I’m just a guy trying to save a farm and get on a plane.”

“You know something, don’t you?”

He most certainly did. But he couldn’t afford to tip his hand just yet.

“Excuse us.” Carter the Beard was standing. “We’re heading out.”

The gorgeous blonde next to him grinned. “This was the fastest meeting in history. We’ve still got an hour on the clock with the babysitting grandparents.”

“Ah,” Sammy said. “Have fun, you two.”

Sammy got to her feet, and Ryan did the same so the couple could step into the aisle and haul ass toward the door.

“Does everyone in this town have libidos in overdrive?” Ryan wondered.

“Sure looks that way,” Sammy said wistfully.

She glanced back at the table where a long line had formed. The Berkowicz guy was dancing around the people with his camera, asking them to “look concerned.” Ryan was willing to bet his entire portfolio of CDs that ninety percent of the Mooners in line did not have the experience necessary.

“I guess I should get home and get some work done,” she said.

“I guess this is goodbye. Again,” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t try to touch her. Every time they said goodbye, he felt less enthused about the idea that he wouldn’t see her again. Which, frankly, was annoying. He’d known her two days. Forty-eight hours. That wasn’t enough time to miss someone.

“I feel like I keep saying goodbye, and you keep turning up anyway,” she said, biting her lower lip.

He forced himself to look away from that tempting mouth. “Maybe we should stop saying goodbye then,” he suggested.