Page 93 of The Mistletoe Kisser

Ryan ran through it again as she sped toward town. “What’s this all about?” he asked.

“You’re being set up,” she snapped. “We’rebeing set up.”

He looked confused in the early morning sun. Confused and disheveled and sexy as hell. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let them do this to you.” She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and pretended it was Bruce Oakleigh’s neck.

“Who?”

“The Beautification Committee.”

“You’ve lost me,” Ryan admitted.

“It’s only funny when they do this to other people,” she muttered grimly.

He was pinching the bridge of his nose now. “Do what, Sam? You’ve got to stop speaking in code,” he insisted.

But she was too angry to explain. The Beautification Committee had toyed with them, manipulated them. There was zero chance Ryan was going to find it “charming” that a band of vigilantes had marked them for love.

She found the enemy in One Love Park where setup for the Solstice Celebration was beginning in earnest. Vendors lugged tables and goods to their designated spots. Pop-up tents in a rainbow of colors dotted the landscape. Food trucks parked and rolled out their canopies. It looked like any other normal town function. Except for the web of lies originating from the small clump of people huddled under a bright yellow tent.

In their little bubble of matchmaking machinations, several Beautification Committee members buzzed about unpacking and arranging a display of their nude fundraising calendar.

“Rainbow Berkowicz, you manipulative puppeteer,” Sammy bellowed, as she marched up to the bank manager and her husband, Gordon. Rainbow looked sedate in a black wool coat and ski hat. Gordon shunned the cold with purple corduroy bell-bottoms and a hooded knit poncho.

The couple glanced at each other then back at her. And Sammy saw the unspoken “uh-oh” that passed between them.

“What can I do for you, Sammy?” Rainbow asked.

“What are you two doing here together?” Gordon asked. “You weren’t supposed to see each other until tonight.” His wife elbowed him in the ribs.

“Did you get Ryan fired just so you could play matchmaker?” Sammy demanded.

“What?” Ryan’s question cracked like a whip on the cold morning air.

“Don’t be silly!” Bruce Oakleigh bustled up in the bottom half of a Santa costume. The beard and belly were real. “That would be overstepping our bounds just a touch. Don’t you think? Although, with all the money we’ve made on our tasteful nude calendar, we probably could have afforded to orchestrate a firing.” He stroked his fluffy silver beard as if he were considering the strategy.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous!” Sammy’s anger was entering the stratosphere. They’d ruined Ryan’s life just to lure him there under false circumstances, dangled him in front of her, and she’d walked into the snare without a backward glance.

“Oh, no, dear. He’s quite serious,” Willa, proprietor of Blue Moon Boots and known for her matchmaking sneakiness, insisted. “We’ve made $700,000 so far.”

“Seven hundred thousand dollars? You know what? Never mind.” Sammy shook her head, unwilling to get derailed. “Did you create a fake bank foreclosure just to get Carson’s nephew into town?”

“Oh,that,” Rainbow said. “Yes. We did do that.”

“Are you saying she tried to collect on a bogus loan to getmehere?” Ryan asked. “That’s illegal. It makes no sense.”

“Nothing they do makes sense,” Sammy snarled.

“Everythingwe do makes sense,” Bruce countered.

“It’s all for your own good,” Gordon promised. “But you two shouldn’t see each other before tonight. We have it all planned out.”

Ellery, in black lipstick, Princess Leia buns, and an ebony cape, hustled over on four-inch platform boots. “Sammy! So good to—”

“Can it, Ellery,” Sammy snapped. “Are you or are you not trying to match Ryan and me up?”

“Match us up to do what?” Ryan asked, firmly dragging Sammy out of Ellery’s face.