Free Manic in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Christmas River Cozy Book 6) by Meg Muldoon

beer bottle and placed a hand on the one he’d been resting on my thigh.
    “You know what though?” I said.
    “What?”
    “You might have lost,” I said. “But this girl’s crush on that cute pitcher? It’s only gotten worse.”
    The edges of his mouth turned up slightly as he shot me a low, sideways glance. He took a sip of his beer.
    “I find that hard to believe,” he said. “That defeat wasn’t exactly the stuff dreams are made of, now was it.”
    I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth.
    “On the contrary,” I said. “That pitcher took the loss like a man. You know what it must have taken for him to go over there and shake that trash-talking cheater’s hand?”
    “I think I might have some idea,” he said.
    He smiled, the kind of smile like he was trying to fight it but just couldn’t. Then he stood up and held out his hand to me.
    “If I remember correct, I think I promised that girl with the crush a thing or two earlier,” he said. “And I intend to keep my word.”
    I slipped my hand into his and stood up.
    “That’s right,” I said. “You were going to show me some more of your old dude moves. But I’m just worried that the old dude might be too tired. He’s had a long day, after all.”
    Daniel grinned brightly, kissing the bridge of my nose. Then he picked me up so abruptly that before I knew it, I was off the ground, my legs dangling over his arms.
    “I’m never too tired for you, darlin,’” he said. “And you won’t be calling me ‘old dude’ soon enough.”
    I laughed as he carried me inside.
     

 
    Chapter 15
     
    There was something special about being alone in the pie shop kitchen at five in the morning.
    Yes – it was a damn sight early. And yes, I was tired. But something about being all by myself there, with the Christmas lights dancing around the walls, the smell of flaky pie crust drifting from the oven, and just the silent crooning of Van Morrison to keep me company… all of it reminded me of why I continued to work so hard and spend the majority of my waking hours in this place.
    Today was the Fourth of July, and I knew that I was sitting in the calm before the storm. In just a few hours, a tidal wave of tourists, in town for the parade and fireworks, would come baring down on my humble little pie shop, and all of us would be up to our ears in work. And that was only going to be the first part of my day. I’d also pledged my waitressing skills to help Warren and Aileen with the grand opening of Geronimo Brewing Co. later that evening.
    If I was lucky, I wouldn’t be able to feel my feet at all tomorrow. If I wasn’t, it’d take days before the pain subsided.
    It was going to be a hell of a long day – no doubt about it. But for the time being, all of that felt like a long ways away from my peaceful and calm little corner of the world. Right now all I had to worry about was peeling a few pounds of peaches for the Blueberry Peach pies and keeping an eye on the Moundful Marionberry pies in the oven.
    After a few moments of stripping away the fruit skins, I took a break from peeling, and poured myself another cup of hazelnut coffee.
    I smiled to myself as the night before crossed my mind.
    Years had passed. Daniel and I had seen our share of ups and downs. We’d come through hardships and tough times. We’d weathered storms that would have torn apart and destroyed the most steadfast of relationships.
    But somehow, someway, my love for Daniel Brightman only seemed to grow deeper and more fervent with each passing day.
    I hadn’t expected it to be that way. When I was married to Evan, that most certainly was not how our marriage had gone. When I had been with him, I had loved him, but our years together hadn’t done any favors for our relationship. They hadn’t made us stronger – they’d made us weaker. And if I was being honest with myself, even if he hadn’t cheated on me, even if he’d remained faithful throughout our marriage, it probably