Kissing Under the Mistletoe by Marina Adair Page B

drink.”
    “Maybe another time,” she said, smile still holding. “It was—” She stopped, slapped a hand over her mouth, and looked at the other two women, who, eyes wide, cheeks straining, and heads nodding, were definitely sending her all kinds of signals. None of which he could understand.
    Big surprise there, buddy.
    “It was...?” He prompted her to finish.
    “That’s all, it just was.” She stood, ready to leave.
    Now
his
brothers were sending him various kinds of signals, all of which had a matching hand gesture. He knew the only way to play this was to pretend that he wanted her to leave. So he leaned back in his chair, rested his feet on
her
chair, and sent his brothers a cocky nod before wiggling his fingers at Regan in a smart-assed buh-bye.
    Game on.
    Regan growled. Swinging her purse, she whacked his loafers off the chair and reclaimed her seat. She signaled thewaitress and looked him in the eye. Man, she was sexy when she was spitting mad.
    “You know what,
Gabe
? I’ll take that drink. In fact, let me buy
you
one as a token of my thanks for all you’ve done for me over the years.”
    “Ah, there’s the girl I know and love.” He sat forward and pressed his fingers into her forehead, pulling and massaging until he ironed out the wrinkles. His other hand tugged her lips up into a smile. “Much better.”
    She swatted his hands away and was about to swat him in the junk when Jordan cleared her throat. Both women were giving Regan a reprimanding wag of the head.
    Batting her eyelashes she leaned into Gabe and asked, “What can I get for you? Wine? I hear the new DeLuca Zin is fantastic.”
    That’s more like it. She was set on staying. His friends were back where they should be—in his corner. The other DeLucas were all but high-fiving him from across the room. And if Regan leaned any farther forward, he’d be able to see right down her shirt.
    Time to volley.
    “Actually I’ve got a beer over at my table. I came over to let you all know that there’s an APB on one missing Randolph.”
    “Wait, is he the brown one with the red nose?” Regan deadpanned.
    “Yes.” Gabe leaned forward, making sure to take up all of Regan’s space. “He is also a treasured town mascot.”
    “I heard about that,” Frankie said, her face scrunching in anger. “Some idiot destroyed the town Christmas display.People are pissed and I don’t blame them. Every kid in town looks forward to getting their picture taken in the sleigh on Christmas morning.”
    “I heard they’re offering a reward for his safe return.” He spoke directly to Regan, who swallowed.
    He knew she still had the deer, and he wanted to put the pressure on. A woman like Regan would know something was off if he suddenly went soft. Plus, he’d seen her mad and he knew riling her up was the quickest way to get her to open her mouth. It was also the quickest way to gain information. And if he was lucky, it would win him another glimpse of those Christmas panties.
    “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about poor Randolph, would you?” Gabe raised a brow.
    “Why are you asking me?” Regan said, her voice close to a shriek. “I’m new here.”
    “You
are
the town vixen.” He leaned in, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
    She closed her eyes and he watched her mouth silently count to three—make that ten—then she dug through her purse. She dropped two bills on the table for her wine and smacked a quarter against his chest.
    He eyed the coin and smiled. “What’s this for?”
    “For
not
saying, ‘Have a good night!’”

    The next day, Regan finally composed herself enough to pass for a woman who hadn’t just spent the past ten minutes bawling her eyes out in the bathroom of a wine distribution center.
    She had just finished her last interview, the ninth since Monday, and all she needed was
one
person to believe in her work. She’d foolishly thought that maybe, just maybe, Mary would be that person, the one in town