A Christmas to Dismember, Addison Moore [howl and other poems .TXT] 📗

I’ll be honest, my first thought is to shout for Jordy. Jordy Crosby is my best friend’s brother and my ex-husband of one day—think Vegas, cheap whiskey, and an Elvis impersonator. Jordy also happens to be the handyman at the inn, and if need be bouncer, but I’m not entirely sure Jordy could take this husky man all on his own.

The burly man gives Quinn a hard slap on the back, and Quinn’s blue eyes bulge from the hearty wallop.

Quinn turns and bursts into a fit of laughter. “I thought I had been hit by a freight train.” He laughs as he pulls the burly man into one of those half man-hugs. “You don’t know your own strength, my friend. And it’s a good thing, too. Keep up the momentum where it counts—as in the business you share with me.” He looks my way and points to the burly man before him. “Bizzy, this is my partner in crime, Warwick Tully. Warwick, this is my future bride, Bizzy Baker.”

A choking sound comes from me, and I quickly force another smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Warwick.” I give his hand a quick shake. “I’m actually a happily married woman.” I give a quick wink to Quinn as I say it.

A newly married woman at that. It will be three months in a few weeks, and I couldn’t be happier to be Jasper Wilder’s wife. He’s the lead homicide detective down in Seaview County where he’s just finishing up a day’s work, and to be honest, he couldn’t get home soon enough. Quinn just landed stateside this afternoon, and Jasper has yet to meet him.

Quinn belts out a laugh. “A married woman?” He leans my way. “I’ve never let a little nuptial or two stop me before.”

Warwick joins in on the raucous laughter before his soft brown eyes meet up with mine. “This guy has been breaking hearts and rules for as long as I’ve known him. I’d watch out if I were you.”

That false smile flickers across my face once again.

Oh, I’ll be watching—in the event his hands decide to roam.

Quinn leans in. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Tonight I’m throwing the best holiday party Cider Cove has ever seen.” He looks to his friend and hitches his head toward the opulent flocked tree standing near the front windows. “I’m guessing you have the latest Sky phone for me?” He gives the phone in his hand a jostle. “Then there are the details regarding Telenational. Tell me you’ve heeded my words. Don’t hurt our reputation, whatever you do.” He sighs deeply. “Let’s discuss, shall we?”

“We shall.” Warwick cinches a smile of his own. Discuss how rotten and evil you can be. He laughs to himself as he looks to his old friend and the two of them step away.

My sweet cat, Fish, stretches her front paws across the creamy marble reception counter and lets out a rather ornery meow.

I’ve about had enough of all this holiday hubbub. Is it Christmas yet?

Fish is a black and white long-haired tabby I found over a couple of years ago near my sister’s soap and candle shop, Lather and Light. Fish and I have been as close as sisters ourselves ever since.

I pick her up and land a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“We’ve got a ways to go yet. But it will be here sooner than you know.” Although something tells me not soon enough. It’s the busiest time of year for the inn. Just about every room is booked solid with out-of-towners visiting family, and all of the cottages on the property are booked solid, too.

The inn is set on several acres, and there are over three dozen cottages in addition to the mammoth inn itself. The entire structure butts up to a sandy cove where the magnificent Atlantic takes center stage as the star of the show. There’s a café attached to the back of the inn that faces the water which I’ve wisely left my best friend, Emmie, in charge of. And on the opposite end of the facility, we have a pet daycare center that provides daily interaction for the furry inclined among us who would otherwise be left home alone all day while their human goes off to work, or in the event one of the guests needs a pet sitter for the day.

The inn is a mammoth structure composed of blue stones and blue shutters with ivy that covers almost every speck of the front. There’s a small army of employees that work alongside me, and each one loves the inn just as much as I do. The Country Cottage Inn was voted the most pet friendly place to stay in all of Maine for a fifth year in a row. I’m actually the one who instated the rule that all pets are welcome on the grounds and in the guests’ rooms. Personally, I was shocked it wasn’t instated before.

Sherlock scampers over and gives a sharp bark my way. Sherlock Bones was Jasper’s red and white mixed puppy when we first met, and now he equally belongs to me. He’s medium-size with big brown eyes and a heart for both people and bacon.

I want Christmas to last forever, Bizzy. Everyone is so friendly and I like the music, too.

Fish yowls, You would.

I do! Sherlock is quick to double down on his love of all things Christmas. It’s cheerful and snappy, and it makes me want to bounce my bottom and wag my tail.

I can’t help but laugh.

I’m not sure how the animals understand one another, but they always seem to. Yes, I can read the animal mind as well, and typically they have better things to say. I can’t read every mind. Usually it’s just the ones in front of me, but when I get stressed and frazzled, I’ll pick up on a variety of people at once. And the farther away someone is, the harder for me to decipher