Mistletoe Match (No Match for Love) Read online

  Contents

  Get a Free Story!

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Get a Free Story!

  No Match for Love series

  Other Books by Lindzee Armstrong

  Sweet ‘N Spicy Reads

  About the Author

  Copyright

  To everyone who has experienced the magic of mistletoe.

  The only thing worse than being alone at Christmas was being your cousin’s plus one to a work holiday party.

  Michelle fastened the silver Christmas tree earring into her lobe, making a face in the mirror. Even Luke, the hot-mess celebrity she’d briefly dated last year, had managed to find his happily ever after. The pit that had formed in her stomach three hours ago when she saw Luke and his new wife, Brooke, on a magazine cover in the store checkout line hadn’t dissipated. She’d done a pretty good job of at least faking contentment the past year. But that photo had brought her loneliness back in full force.

  Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up. A text from Autumn. Drinks tonight at Bobby’s! We need a designated driver and I pick you.

  Michelle laughed, quickly texting back. Can’t. I’ve got the Christmas party with Hudson tonight.

  Autumn’s response was almost immediate. No! We all want you there.

  “We” meant the members of Their Only Voice, the animal rights activist group Michelle belonged to. Is Ruth coming? Michelle texted. She’d never gotten along well with the chapter president.

  If I tell you no, will you come? came Autumn’s response.

  It was oh-so-tempting. But she’d promised Hudson. Sorry. Maybe next time.

  At least tell me you’re wearing the red dress, Autumn said. You look amazing in that one. You’ll definitely snag a man if you wear it!

  Michelle glanced down at her dress—the very one Autumn had mentioned—and smirked. We can’t all find our Doug, Michelle said.

  Yeah, but you could at least try.

  Michelle shut off her phone without replying. She had tried to find a man—really hard, and for a really long time. But she’d completely given up this year. Hadn’t been on a single date.

  The bell rang, and Bella, her ancient beagle, gave a tired yawn.

  “Some guard dog you are,” Michelle teased, scratching behind the animal’s ears as she walked by. Bella gave a happy bark, her sightless eyes seeing nothing, then settled back into her cushioned bed. Michelle shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips, and headed to the front door.

  “Hey,” Hudson said, looking dashing as always in a suit with an incredibly skinny tie. His pants were at least four inches too short and showcased socks with a wild diamond design. He brushed a lock of curly hair out of his eyes. “You look nice. Let me guess—you found a new eco-friendly mascara that hasn’t been tested on animals.”

  “See? You really can tell the difference,” Michelle teased. Truthfully, she’d spent twenty minutes perusing the makeup aisle before finding exactly that. “You look nice, too.”

  “Thanks again for coming with me.”

  “If you win that flat screen, I get to pick the first movie we watch on it. You know, you could’ve just asked a real date to be the extra raffle ticket holder.”

  “And risk someone thinking we’re serious? No way. Ready to go?”

  “Almost. Let me grab my purse. Be right back.” But it took her nearly five minutes to search out the black beaded clutch from a dark corner of her closet. She finally found it piled underneath a hemp bra she’d forgotten about and a skirt she’d bought at a street fair.

  “Found it,” she called, reentering the living room. She froze, then grabbed the magazine from Hudson’s hands—the one that talked about how Luke and his wife were building their dream home.

  “Since when do you read celebrity gossip?” Hudson asked.

  “I don’t. It was an impulse buy.” Michelle walked into the kitchen and dropped the magazine into the trash can. “See? All gone. Are we taking your car or mine?”

  “I’ll drive,” Hudson said.

  Michelle nodded, ushering him out of the house. Maybe he wouldn’t bring up the magazine again.

  “I didn’t think you even liked that guy,” Hudson said.

  Michelle sighed, dropping her keys into the clutch. She’d met Luke through Toujour, a professional matchmaking agency. Michelle had only gone out with him once, to a Broadway production of The Lion King. There had been zero chemistry between them, and she’d told her matchmaker she wasn’t interested in a second date. “I didn’t like him—not like that, at least. He’s nice enough and I’m happy for him.”

  “So why the magazine?” Hudson held open the car door and she slipped into his silver Prius.

  “I guess I was just curious about his life.”

  Hudson peered at her, his dark eyes hooded with concern. “After twenty-nine years, I think I know when you’re lying. Are you okay?”

  “Of course I am.” Why did he have to bring up her age? Twenty-nine and still single. She’d thought she’d be a stay-at-home mom in the suburbs by now, with a garden patch in the backyard and a few chickens to provide fresh eggs. She wanted someone to discuss her day with, someone to make her laugh. Why couldn’t she seem to make a relationship work? It wasn’t like she dated jerks or commitment-phobes or anything. She just hadn’t found a guy who felt like her other half. She always fell for the guy who was allergic to dogs, or the guy who was moving across the country, or the guy who didn’t want children. One time she dated the perfect man for three months, only to learn he was heading to Africa for a summer of wild game hunting. She’d barely been able to look at him after that.

  It was why she’d signed with Toujour, the matchmaking firm Luke had turned into a household name. But after six months of never making it past the third date, she’d given up and canceled her subscription. That had been New Year’s Eve of last year.

  “You can’t avoid me by disappearing into your own head,” Hudson said, tapping roughly on her forehead.

  “Hey.” Michelle swatted his hand away. “Focus on the road.”

  “Focus on the conversation.”

  Michelle pursed her lips. Hudson turned out of the subdivision and onto the main road, passing the trio of inflatable snowmen with flapping red scarfs and happy grins waving from their grassy patch of drive strip. Even the snowmen would spend this Christmas with someone. “I’m jealous, okay? Are you happy now?”

  “You know I can’t be happy if you aren’t,” Hudson said. “Jealous of what?”

  “Luke. He was this complete mess when we went out. And now he’s got everything I want—the love of his life, the marriage, the house in the suburbs.”

  “Private beach front property isn’t exactly a house in the suburbs.”

  “Still.” Michelle let out a sigh. “I’m lonely, okay?”

  Hudson smirked. “What, attending work parties with me isn’t fulfilling enough?”

  Michelle snorted. “Yeah, not really. I know you’re happy being single and doing the career thing. But I’m not.”

  “Then find someone.”

  “You act like I haven’t tried.”

  “Look, Chelle. I know you’ve da
ted a lot. And I know it’s never worked out. But when you couldn’t get the city to agree to a recycling program our junior year, did you just give up? No. You kept at it until they finally caved.”

  “I don’t think petitioning the city council until they’re so sick of hearing from me they agree to my demands will work in this situation.”

  “Maybe not. But statistically speaking, if you date enough men, eventually you’ll find one that you want to stick around.”

  “Dating is hard.” Things always went so incredibly well in the beginning, but within a few months, the illusion shattered.

  “I’m guessing marriage is, too.”

  She smacked him on the arm. “Geez, thanks for the pep talk.”

  His tone turned serious. “You know I love you, right? And right now, you need tough love. You’ve got to stop being scared. If marriage is really what you want, you need to go for it with as much determination as you went after that recycling program.”

  Like the two situations were even comparable.

  At the hotel, Hudson handed his keys over to a valet and they walked inside the high-rise. A twenty-foot high Christmas tree graced the foyer, and printed signs directed guests to the parties happening in the various event rooms.

  “They downgraded this year,” Hudson said, pointing to the sign. “We’re not in the grand ballroom. Dang it. They’d better still be giving away the flat screen.”

  They found the Cascade Room, already half-filled with people. Christmas music played softly through speakers, and the cinnamon strudel appetizers smelled divine. Michelle’s phone buzzed.

  Collecting signatures next weekend for the cosmetic testing bill we’re backing, Autumn texted. Can you take a shift? The library is letting us set up a table.

  Sure, Michelle quickly texted back.

  Hammond Cosmetics announced they’re filing bankruptcy, came another text. Looks like our smear campaign worked. Ruth’s ecstatic. Another point to humanity!

  Michelle barely held back a squeal. They’d worked tirelessly for nearly a year exposing the inhumane practices the cosmetic company had used on their animal test subjects. Hopefully they’d achieve the same results with Wellsprings Pharmaceutical, another company that refused to end animal testing, very soon.

  “They’re getting chintzy this year.” Hudson pointed to the table decorations. “Pine cones? Lame.”

  Michelle tucked her phone back in her clutch. “They can’t do tiny Christmas trees as centerpieces two years in a row.”

  “As long as I win the flat screen, I don’t care.”

  “You never win. And you complain about it every year.”

  “Yeah, but bringing you gives me double the chances.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes.

  Hudson wrapped an arm around her. “Seriously, Chelle. Are you okay? You still seem … off.”

  “I’m fine. Just thinking about all the tests I need to grade, and I have a new student coming on Monday. Did I tell you that?”

  “No, but that’s cool,” Hudson said. “Seriously, I can take you home if you aren’t up for this tonight.”

  “And chance you missing out on that flat screen? Not a chance.”

  Ten minutes into the mediocre and semi-cold dinner, Hudson started flirting with a petite waitress with almond-shaped eyes and silky black hair. He tried to bring Michelle into their conversation, but after her billionth one-word reply, he gave up and focused on the waitress. When a waiter who was actually doing his job came by with a bottle of champagne, Michelle nodded and let him fill up her glass. Twice.

  She missed dating. Not the awkward first dates, or the uncomfortable pseudo-breakups, but the part where they were just beginning to be comfortable with each other, where things were still exciting and new. She missed the closeness and familiarity of another person, the camaraderie of a relationship. And okay. She totally missed kissing.

  Ugh. Wasn’t the waitress’s boss going to come by and yell at her for slacking? Michelle sighed and rose from the table, stumbling a bit before steadying herself.

  “Where are you going?” Hudson asked, tearing his eyes away from the waitress.

  “Restroom,” she said.

  He started to rise as well. “Are you okay?”

  “I can find the bathroom on my own. Sit down so you don’t miss the raffle. Here.” She handed him her ticket. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Michelle wandered into the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief as the noise of the party grew faint and fuzzy. She had to stop feeling sorry for herself. Being the crazy cat lady wouldn’t be so bad. She giggled. Did cat ladies have dogs? Or did that make Bella a cat?

  She didn’t need a man to be happy. She had Bella, the best dog a girl could ask for; Their Only Voice, a cause worth fighting for; and Hudson, her best friend. That was more than enough.

  She spotted a restroom and slipped inside, claiming the first empty stall. Guys just created messes, and she cleaned up enough of those at school. The warm water from the sink washed away the soap as resolve filled her. Time to stop feeling sorry for herself. She had a great job, and a great life. And tonight, she had all the free champagne she could drink. That was more than enough.

  “Uh, hi,” a deep voice said beside her.

  Michelle jerked, splashing water all over her dress. Why was there a man in the women’s restroom? She giggled and backed against the sink. How embarrassing for him. Restroom. What a weird word. It wasn’t like there were chairs to rest on.

  Something white caught her gaze—porcelain. Why were there urinals in here?

  Crap.

  “Oh my gosh.” Michelle put a hand to her forehead, another giggle bursting forth. “This is the men’s restroom, isn’t it?”

  A smile lifted one corner of his mouth. His face was covered in a closely shaved beard, accenting his narrow cheekbones and angular face. “Yeah. It is.”

  Yummy. He was handsome as sin. “I’m so sorry.” Michelle grabbed a paper towel and scrubbed her hands dry, another giggle escaping before she jetted back into the hallway, the man close on her heels. The men’s bathroom. Geez.

  “Don’t worry about it. I walked into a women’s restroom at the airport last week. Happens to all of us.”

  He’d probably caused those women to have heart attacks. Broad shoulders filled out his tux in a way that had her heart thumping in her chest from more than embarrassment. His dark chocolate hair was streaked with gray, and he looked perhaps nine or ten years older than her with the faintest of crow’s feet near his smiling eyes … eyes that were the exact same shade as his hair. Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed.

  No more thinking about men. Bad Michelle.

  She cleared her throat. He had to be at least six foot four inches, and she wasn’t used to looking up at a man. “So you wander into women’s restrooms frequently? I feel like there’s a name for that.”

  He laughed, and the sound sent shivers through her body. “After that eighty-year-old woman hit me with a purse, I can promise you I do my best to avoid those kinds of mistakes. I check the sign outside restrooms at least three times before going in.”

  “I guess I should start doing the same.” She glanced at his left hand. No ring. There must be something wrong with him. No way a guy this hot was still single without a reason. “Do you work at Morgan Accounting?”

  The man blinked. “I’m sorry?”

  She motioned down the hallway to the open doors. “The Christmas party.”

  “Oh. No, I’m attending a party in the grand ballroom. I stepped into the hallway to take a phone call.”

  She swayed toward him before quickly correcting her balance. Why couldn’t she stop giggling? “I should probably let you get back to your date.”

  “I decided to risk the gossip and come alone.” He smiled, and that one small action transformed his entire face. Suddenly his chocolate eyes sparkled with flecks of caramel that had her stomach doing back flips. “What about you?”

  “Tricked into coming by my cousin, H
udson. He’s really committed to winning that flat screen TV they’re giving away. I’m his extra raffle ticket.”

  “Ah. So it appears we’re both on our own.”

  “Yeah, it does.” Michelle cocked her head to the side, eying him. Maybe what she needed was one last fling with a stranger before hanging up her dating hat for good. She really missed kissing. And his lips look absolutely delicious.

  He grinned and took a step forward, as though reading her mind. His eyes were all melty and beautiful and made her insides a puddle of goo.

  She took a deep breath, then plunged, the pleasant champagne buzz giving her courage. “I need a few more minutes of reprieve before I head back into the craziness that is that party. I was going to take a walk in the gardens. Care to join me?”

  “I thought you’d never ask. I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name.”

  “Michelle.” She tucked a strand of hair self-consciously behind her ear. She couldn’t believe she’d just asked him out—sort of. Whatever it was, he’d agreed.

  “Austin.” He extended a hand, and she shook it, heat racing up her arm at the contact. “Shall we?”

  Shall we? Two such simple words, and yet they felt like the beginning of a promise.

  In the gardens, the December air gently rustled the trees covered in glowing Christmas lights. A cobblestone pathway led to a gazebo strung with garland and lights. Picture perfect. When was she going to wake up?

  “So, Michelle, if you aren’t an employee at Morgan Accounting, then what exactly do you do?”

  “I’m a teacher. This will be my seventh year.”

  “Ah.” Austin’s mouth curved up in a smile, and her heart hammered against her ribcage. “I already know I like you. I could never be a teacher, but I really admire those who can. Helping my kids with homework is plenty of teaching for me.”

  So he had kids. That meant there was an ex somewhere in the picture. “I can’t imagine doing anything else as a career. I love everything about it.” She gave a small laugh. “Well, okay. I wouldn’t mind a bigger paycheck. But who can’t say that about their job?”