Free Mistletoe by Lyn Gardner

grin, Jamie said, “I did, and I can’t wait.”
    “Then it’s settled,” Diana said as she removed the tuxedo jacket and handed it back to Jamie. “Now, let’s get you out of here so you can take care of that headache.”
    Across the room, Lillian Willoughby watched as Jamie and Diana walked back inside, pursing her lips in disgust at the sight. Up until that moment, Lillian hadn’t recognized Diana as the woman who Jamie had kissed at Ted Phelan’s house, and now that she had, her party mood was quickly being replaced by that of disdain. Watching as they walked toward the entrance hall, Lillian’s first thought was good riddance , but when she noticed something hanging over the archway, her eyes bulged.
    Having always believed that public displays of affection were unnecessary and offensive, Lillian Willoughby had never adorned any of the doorways in her house with mistletoe during the Christmas season. Seeing that someone had taken it upon themselves to hang a sprig of the aphrodisiacal weed in her home, her temper fired instantly. While she may well have tolerated a playful smooch between those of the opposite sex in her home, Lillian had no tolerance for homosexuality. In her mind, it was loathsome. Angrily pushing her way through her guests, she marched to the door in her sequined, open-toed pumps.
    Walking through the room, Diana had unconsciously held out her hand, and in an instant, she felt Jamie’s fingers mesh with hers. Smiling all the way to the doorway, they both stopped and waited as other guests were helped on and off with their coats. Their eyes met for a moment, and then all of a sudden, a voice rang out.
    “None of that, Nash. Not in my house.”
    Furrowing her brow, Jamie glanced as Lillian approached. “What was that?”
    “You know very well I don’t appreciate your kind,” Lillian scolded, glaring first at Jamie and then at Diana.
    Pointing to the front door, she said, “Don’t let it hit you on your way out, and make sure you take your friend with you.”
    “You’re way out of line, Lillian,” Jamie growled under her breath. “We were just talking.”
    Wrinkling up her face in disgust, Lillian pointed to the mistletoe hanging above the two women. “Do I look like I was born yesterday? You put that mistletoe there so you could have a repeat performance of what happened at Ted’s last week. Well, not in my house, missy.”
    Glancing up, Jamie couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the seasonal decoration, and then returned her attention to Lillian Willoughby. Even though her head was pounding, Jamie couldn’t resist pushing a few of Lillian’s buttons.
    “What? You mean you didn’t put it there for me?”
    With her face getting redder by the minute, Lillian said, “Like that would ever happen. Now, take it down!”
    “I’m not the one that hung it there, Lillian.”
    “I’ve been around too long to believe that you didn’t.”
    “Well, they do say miracles happen at Christmas.”
    “Miracles, my foot,” Lillian said, eyeing her business partner from top to bottom. “Your kind doesn’t believe in miracles.”
    Diana stood there and listened to the exchange, all the while fighting the urge to punch Lillian Willoughby squarely on the jaw. The woman was clearly homophobic. The woman was wrong, and the woman was being extremely rude. Seeing the flush of embarrassment creep across Jamie’s face, Diana didn’t have to think twice. Taking one step forward, she reached up and pulled Jamie’s face to hers, and as Lillian Willoughby gasped in shock, Diana kissed Jamie solidly on the lips.
    Just like their first kiss, when their lips touched, both were again lost in the flavors and the feel. Unconsciously, Jamie placed her hand on Diana’s shoulder, and the naked, creamy skin beneath her fingers was so warm and smooth, Jamie’s libido lurched. Her mind became a hurricane of images, swirling flickers of nights filled with passion, moans and gasps, and relaxing into the