Название | Under the Mistletoe |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Katherine Garbera |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Blaze |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472047496 |
Did she always leap like that?
“Have you ever followed something like a star?” he asked curiously. It seemed like something she’d do. “Just took off believing it would lead you to something special?”
“No... Well, that’s not true. One time I followed a dog I spotted after school. Every day after that, for a straight week, it waited for me outside of my classroom. I thought it was a stray and that maybe I could keep him.”
She turned to face him, her pretty gaze serious, and she licked her pink lips. His eyes tracked the movement and his blood flowed thicker in his veins. “What happened next?”
“When I approached the dog it sort of took off, not running but just heading somewhere. I had saved half of my sandwich at lunch so I could sort of bribe the dog. It was a cute little poodle and in my head I’d named it Fifi.”
“Sounds like you had a plan,” he said.
“And a big imagination. It’s part of the reason I’m good at creating events,” she said. “So I followed Fifi and she turned down my street. I was eight at the time so please don’t think this is too lame.”
“I’d never think you were lame,” he said, enjoying the way she told the story. Seeing how her eyes sparkled and hearing that note of excitement and joy in her voice was truly infectious.
“Okay, I was so excited. Fifi trotted past my house, but instead of stopping at my place, she ran straight past it. I followed her round the corner and saw her disappear through a redbrick house with a doggy door.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get your dog,” he said.
She laughed good-naturedly. “I was so disappointed, but it wasn’t meant to be. I did have a fun adventure following the dog, though. And my mom got us a cute miniature dachshund when I told her the story.” He thought about Penny’s story. He’d never been that aware of his environment, sure he’d followed things on the internet, but in the real world he tended to just keep his head down and move forward. He couldn’t remember ever being different even as a child.
“That’s sweet.”
“Thanks,” she said. “She was good about making sure I had what I wanted. Not that I was spoiled or anything.”
His lips twitched with humor. “Sure you weren’t.”
“It’s hard to not be a little spoiled when you’re the only child,” she admitted with a cheeky grin.
“What about you? Spoiled? Siblings?” she asked.
“Only child, as well.”
She arched her eyebrow at him. “We both are used to getting our way, then. That could make things interesting.”
“I wasn’t spoiled,” he said. He left it at that. He didn’t want to talk about his parents’ deaths or being raised by distant relatives. It created an image that he wasn’t comfortable sharing with her. They were temporary playmates, nothing more.
“Did you ever follow anything home?”
“No. I’m usually very focused on getting what I want. Instead of following dogs or stars, I’d use my computer and do a load of research before starting out.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sounds kind of boring.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t waste time and I get my end result every single time. I try to eliminate all the variables so I don’t have to deal with surprises.”
“But surprises are the best part of life,” she said.
“That hasn’t been my experience.”
Shaking her head at him, she countered, “That’s not true.”
He gave her a look from under his eyelashes.
She punched him playfully in the shoulder. “You’re wrong. Today I bet you weren’t expecting an iPhone to come flying through the air at you.”
She had him there. She knew it, too—he saw it on her face. “That’s true.”
“Also you didn’t expect that I’d be so intriguing,” she said.
Right again. He definitely hadn’t expected Penny, and he was learning that even though he’d thought he’d managed all the variables with this Christmas liaison, perhaps he had forgotten something very important. The Penny factor.
* * *
SHE WAS HAVING FUN—despite the fact that after the past few months, the stress of quitting her job and hoping for a new one, she still hadn’t gotten the call she’d been hoping for today. But given that the East Coast was two hours ahead of them, she doubted they would be calling before tomorrow.
Her real life was still a mess but tonight that didn’t seem to matter as much. Will had wrapped his arm around her shoulder and tucked her against his side. He had gone quiet after she’d told him about Fifi but maybe he was thinking...who knew what. The bells of the horses rang across the empty fields as they continued their ride, and she felt the hope and joy of the season all around her.
Suddenly, she found herself humming the beginning of “Jingle Bells” under her breath. The song was stuck in her head now. Ugh. She couldn’t start singing. Wouldn’t let herself do that.
But there it was.
“Dashing through the snow,” Will said, under his breath, too.
She tipped her head back and started laughing. “Is that song also in your head?”
“It’s impossible for it not to be. We are in the middle of a freakin’ Norman Rockwell Christmas scene.”
“I would have said Currier and Ives.”
He shook his head. “You like to argue, don’t you?”
She thought about that for a long minute. She did have to always make sure she had her own opinion. “I never thought of it that way. I just want to make sure I’m standing on my own, not following someone else.”
“Me, too. And this is definitely Norman Rockwell. You’ll never convince me otherwise.”
“Are you sure?”
“How could you possibly? I’ve made my mind up and I never change it,” he said.
“Never? Are you sure about that?”
He nodded. “I can promise you I will never change my mind. Once a decision has been made I stick to it.”
“Duly noted,” she said. It was something that she might see as a red flag if they were going to date long-term, but for two weeks...what did that matter? “Jingle bells, jingle bells...”
He squeezed her close, putting his finger under her chin, and when he tipped her head back, she looked up at the strong line of his jaw. There was a tiny birthmark under his chin. Something she wouldn’t have noticed if they hadn’t been sitting so close. She reached up and touched it.
“Beauty mark,” she said.
“Beauty?”
“That’s what my mom always calls them. She has one that looks like a strawberry along her neck, and she says it’s a mark of inner beauty.” Penny missed her mom but she was in the Caribbean with her new husband celebrating the holidays. Exhaling softly, she stroked his neck. It was strong and had the tiniest bit of beard stubble on it. His light brown hair brushed the side of his face and she pushed it out of the way.
“No one has ever suggested there was anything beautiful about me,” he said gruffly.
She