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After four stops in the cheeriest fucking town on the planet, I’d stopped for a bite to eat at Cottonwood Café. Tink had warned me about this place, and she was not kidding. The woman who owned the restaurant was odd, to say the least. She’d slowly perused my body and paused when her eyes moved below my waist, making me incredibly uncomfortable.
“Excuse me. I just wanted to grab a sandwich to go. I’m in a hurry.”
“Are you always in a hurry, Mr. Lancaster?” the older woman with too-plump lips and a shit ton of cleavage hanging out of her dress, and not the good kind of cleavage, purred. “Are you in a hurry when you’re with a woman?”
First, I’d battled crowds at the bakery and then again at the gourmet grocery store that was willing to put together a nice gift basket of wine, crackers, and chocolate for Georgia’s parents. I’d gotten her brothers each a bottle of good whiskey, because she’d mentioned that they liked that, and I’d gotten her sister and her brother’s fiancée a nice bottle of wine, and I still had to figure out what to get that little niece of hers because I knew nothing about kids. And now, I was dealing with a horny old bird who looked like she wanted to climb me like a tree.
I also had a raging hangover and felt like shit.
“I don’t know what’s happening here, but I would like a sandwich to go.” I gave her a pointed look, hoping she’d get the message.
“Georgia Reynolds works for you, doesn’t she?”
Maybe this woman could help me after all. “Yes. She does. I need to drop something off to her, but it’s sort of a surprise. Would you happen to know where the Reynolds live? I am fairly certain she’s at her parents’ house today.”
A loud, boisterous laugh escaped before she pulled herself together. “Everyone knows where the Reynoldses live.”
“Well, not everyone, because I don’t. Would you mind jotting down that address when you grab me my turkey on rye?” I handed her my card because the woman had yet to take my order, and I was done waiting.
“Of course. Let me get that for you, handsome.” She chuckled and did some sort of awkward-as-fuck shimmy, and I looked away.
A woman in her mid-thirties stood a few feet from me holding the hand of a little girl who looked to be about the same age as Georgia’s niece, so I walked over.
“Excuse me,” I said, and the woman turned and smiled at me.
“Hi. Do we know one another?”
“No, no. I, uh, this is a bit awkward. I need to get a gift for a little girl who looks about your daughter’s age, and I’ve never shopped for a kid before. Can you tell me where I should go?”
She chuckled. “Ahhh… no worries at all. The Tipsy Tea is the cutest little boutique in town for kids. They have all sorts of gifts, and it’s a party place, too. They’ll help you out there for sure.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” I nodded and sent my pilot a quick text that I’d be ready in an hour.
“Here you go, darlin’. The Reynolds’ address is inside the bag, along with my phone number, just in case you need anything. Anytime. Day or night. Now you come back and see Mrs. Runither real soon, okay?” the crazy-ass horndog said. People who referred to themselves in the third person freaked me the fuck out.
“Thank you, I think,” I grumbled before tucking my sandwich under my arm and hurrying to the drunken tea place the woman told me about.
The Tipsy Tea.
I pulled the door open, and there was a set of identical twin girls in the corner having absolute meltdowns while they stomped and shouted at their mother.
I shivered.
I knew nothing about kids, just that I normally stayed away from them.
But Georgia’s niece seemed like the real deal.
“Hello, can I help you?” a woman said, with a big smile on her face.
“Yes. I need a gift for a little girl about this tall,” I said, holding my hand up to just below my waist. “She’s a good one from what I can tell, and I need to bring something for her with it being Christmas Eve.”
“Okay, I’m Matilda, and I own this shop. Do you know the little girl’s name?” she asked. Only in a small town would they ask the name of the person you’re gifting to or give you the address of the home you’re looking for. There were definitely perks to small-town living.
“Her name is Gracie Reynolds. Do you know her?”
She clapped her hands together once. “Ahhh… she’s the sweetest little girl in town. How much would you like to spend?”
“However much it costs to get her something good.” I shrugged. I didn’t have a fucking clue how much a kid’s gift would cost.
