One Mistletoe Wish. A.C. Arthur
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wrapped up in the next day or so. I’ll send a group email when the listings are up and then keep everyone posted on the sales.”
“Right,” Gemma said. “Business as usual. That’s fine, Gray. I’ll be sending out my gifts in the next couple of weeks, so be sure to check the mail at your condo.”
Gray resisted the urge to sigh again. Instead, he squeezed the bridge of his nose. “You send us all Christmas gifts every year like you’re our secret Santa. We’re not kids anymore, Gemma.”
“No,” she said adamantly. “We’re not. But Mama loved Christmas. She always had gifts for us under that tree no matter the circumstances. It’s the least I can do to keep her alive in my heart, Gray. I know all of you have your way of dealing with the hand we were dealt in life, but this is mine so don’t try to take it away from me.”
After a few seconds of silence Gray replied, “I wouldn’t think of it.”
Gemma was right—she needed to deal with her life, in her way, just as the rest of his siblings did. Just as he did.
Gray ended the call with his sister and he was able to get lots of work done as the hours passed. Now, at close to six in the evening, he realized he hadn’t eaten all day. Grabbing his jacket, Gray left the room and headed into town. He had driven to Virginia from Miami, deciding that he might enjoy the peace and quiet of the fifteen-hour drive. It was a drastic change from using his private jet to travel the globe and hiring drivers for the shorter distances when he traveled for business. This time it was personal, and Gray was certain he could handle maneuvering the streets of the small town.
That thought was short-lived. Almost an hour later, after going up and down street after street looking for a restaurant of his liking, Gray finally parked his car in front of Pearl’s Diner on the corner of Sunset Drive and Evergreen Way. The first thing he noticed when he stepped out of his Porsche Panamera Turbo—besides the fact that the i and the e in diner were out on the lighted sign hanging in front of the establishment—was all the Christmas decorations. Thanksgiving had only been two days ago, but the holiday season was clearly in full swing in Temptation. Black lampposts positioned about six to eight feet apart had wreaths around the lighted tops and huge red ribbons in the center. Strung above the wires holding the street lights were large snowflakes formed from stencils and cheerful white lights. Funny, when he’d driven into town yesterday he hadn’t seen any of this, or perhaps he hadn’t wanted to see it. Could Gemma’s earlier reference to how much his mother had loved Christmas be the cause of his revelation now?
Another reason he may not have noticed the decorations before—the more logical one that Gray preferred to consider—was that he’d avoided driving through the main streets of town when he arrived. Instead, he’d made a wrong turn the moment he entered the town from the highway, forcing his GPS to reconfigure the directions to the community center. That had worked just as Gray planned and he’d ended up traveling through narrow streets lined with houses before pulling up on Century Road, where the old planked structure of the community center sat on a corner. Gray hadn’t wanted anyone to see him driving his fancy car through the old town. He recalled from his mother’s stories how quickly news—good or bad—traveled in Temptation and how much the townsfolk enjoyed spreading such news.
Gray was still standing in front of the diner, looking at the holiday decorations, when he was approached by the first person in Temptation to lend credence to his mother’s words.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for these sore old eyes,” a woman said. “You and that spicy little car you’re driving.”
She’d walked right up to him and now had a hand resting on his arm. Her perfectly coiffed dark brown hair was streaked with what looked like bronze in the front. Wrapped around her shoulders was some sort of black cape and she wore a festive red scarf.
“Good evening,” Gray finally said, remembering once again how everyone in small towns thought they knew everybody else.
They’d all thought they knew how good a father and husband Theodor Taylor was, until the day he’d up and left his family in that big old house on Peach Tree Lane. So had Gray’s mother, Olivia, and his siblings. That had been the moment of truth for Gray, one he would never forget, no matter how many years had passed, or how far away he managed to get from this town.
“You look awfully familiar,” she said, squinting her eyes and moving in closer.
Her perfume was strong and her fingers clenched his arm a little tighter as if she thought the contact might jog her memory. For as much as Gray would like to have gone unnoticed a little while longer, he knew his presence would be made known eventually. Especially after he’d already introduced himself to the pretty woman at the community center last night.
“I’m Grayson Taylor and I’m just heading into the diner to have dinner,” he told her.
“My word, Grayson Taylor,” she said, a smile spreading instantly across her face. “The last time I saw you I don’t think you came past here.”
Here was the level near her thigh that she’d shown with a motion of her hand.
“How old were you then? Six or seven? That’s when Olivia packed up and shuffled you poor children out of your home in the dark of night.” She was shaking her head as she talked. “Shame the way she did that. You should have been allowed to grow up in your home, around the people that loved and cared about you all.”
What she really meant was the people that loved all the revenue that the reality show his family had starred in brought to the town. The birth of the sextuplets had come at a time when Temptation was struggling to use its historic background to bring tourists and, subsequently, money into the town. The show had been a savior for the town, but a death sentence to his parents’ marriage.
“I was seven years old back then, ma’am, and I really am hungry, so if you’ll please excuse me,” he said and attempted to walk away.
“Oh, don’t go in there. Pearl doesn’t work on Sundays. Her daughter, Gail, does, but she’s not as good a cook as her mama. You come on over to the hospital with me. They’re having their annual charity ball and that food will be catered. Hopefully, it’ll be better than Gail’s since I know they paid this fancy new chef a ton of money.”
She looped her arm around his and had started walking them across the street before Gray could accept or decline her offer.
“Ma’am, I’d rather not intrude,” he began after a couple of steps.
“You can drop the ma’am and call me Millie. Millie Randall, that’s what everybody around here calls me. And you’re not intruding. We heard your daddy died a couple months back, poor fella. And with a young lady in his bed. At least that’s what we heard.” Millie whispered those last sentences.
She shook her head and continued before Gray could interject.
“So I suspect you’re here about his properties. The hospital is one of them, so you might as well come on inside and see what you own.”
First, Gray wasn’t certain why the whispering was necessary, since they were the only two people outside at the moment. Second, her assumptions about his father’s death were wrong and totally inappropriate, but still, he tried to keep his irritation under control.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Randall,” he said because he’d already noted the gigantic diamond on her ring finger and he recalled Morgan mentioning her name last night. “I really don’t think this is a good idea. I have other business to take care of.”
“Always in a rush,” Millie said with a shake of her head. She took two steps away from Gray and then turned back. “You get that from your mother. Olivia was always trying to move faster than she should have. Running to those fancy doctors and using all that money to produce that ungodly pregnancy.”
“Wait a minute,” Gray said, finally fed up with this woman and her comments.
He didn’t give a damn who she was or where she worked. As he’d