Page 13 of Mistletoe and Holly

“And I’m Mrs. White,” Holly added.

“Okay!” she chirped before disappearing down the hall toward the living room.

As soon as Harper was out of sight, Holly turned to me, her cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of pink.

“You sure about Colonel Mustard? I think you look more like Mr. Green right now,” she chuckled awkwardly.

I snorted. “Well, if we’re going there, you look like Miss Scarlet.”

That only made her cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red. “Shep, I…I’m sorry if you heard—”

“It’s my own fault, sweetheart,” I cut her off. “I should have turned around and left when I heard you talking to her about me. But we don’t have to talk about anything you’re not ready to. It’s okay.”

She took a deep breath. “I do want to talk. But when we have a little more time.”

I smiled and took the risk of leaning forward and pressing my lips to her forehead, enjoying the barely-audible gasp she emitted while sparks of electricity raced all over my skin at this simple, innocent connection. A connection that felt like it had been close to twenty years in the making.

“Later,” I whispered. “But right now, let’s go spend some time with our girl.”

Yes, I’d just saidourgirl. Because from the second she was born, I’d loved the sweet, curious, and ornery little girl in the living room like she was my own. And even if nothing more ever happened with Holly, I’d never stop being present for Harper and doing everything I could to make sure she still had a positive male role model in her life.

“Okay,” she murmured.

* * *

“This is it. I’m accusing Professor Plum, and I think he did it in the study with the lead pipe.” I grabbed the evidence envelope and found the cards confirming my guess, then dramatically splayed them out on the board. “I win!”

Harper groaned. “I was gonna say that! Can we play again?”

“How about after dinner, sweet pea?” Holly suggested.

“Okay,” she sighed dejectedly.

“Go ahead and find something to watch on TV or play a game on the Wii while I figure out what to make,” Holly said as she stood up.

Realizing this would be a perfect opportunity to talk to her without little ears listening in, I stood up too. “Want some help?”

She gave me a small smile. “Sure.”

Gathering our empty mugs off table, I followed her into the kitchen while Harper ambled into the living room. While I rinsed the mugs out and dried them so we could have more cider after dinner, Holly started digging in the fridge and pantry, producing all the ingredients for “cheddarella” grilled cheese sandwiches – cheddar and mozzarella on sourdough bread – and tomato soup.

“Excellent choice,” I told her. “Perfect for a snowstorm.”

Her lips twitched upward, but didn’t quite form a smile, and she took a few deep breaths, unable to meet my eyes. I could tell she was beyond nervous and didn’t know what to say or how to start this conversation, so I decided to be the first one to speak. Placing a hand under her chin, I gently turned her head toward me, but her eyes were still downcast.

“We still don’t have to talk about this – aboutus– if you’re not ready to, Holl,” I murmured.

She took a shaky breath as she raised her mahogany eyes to meet mine. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to talk about it. But not because I don’t want to. Because I don’t know what to say or do. I haven’t eventhoughtabout seeing anyone again until…well, until my dad decided to have one of his blunt talks with me. He basically gave me the permission I didn’t know I was looking for.”

“Permission for what?” I asked.

I had a pretty good idea of what Kris had said to her, because I was willing to bet it had been a very similar conversation to the one he’d had with me. But I still wanted to hear her say it. Because if she couldn’t even say it out loud, then she definitely wasn’t ready to take this relationship from…well, whatever the hell it was now…to a romantic one.

“To let go of the past. To move on. To be happy. To…” She took another shuddering breath and swallowed hard. “To admit that I’d fallen for you when I wasn’t looking.”

I couldn’t have stopped the shit-eating grin that spread across my face if I’d tried. Putting a hand on her face, I rubbed my thumb over her fire engine-red cheek. Finally, a smile played on her lips as she leaned into my touch. I dipped my head down to brush my lips against her forehead, then looked into the warm brown depths that had captivated me ever since I’d known her and laid all my cards on the table.

“Holly Macintyre, I have loved you since I was thirteen years old.”

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