Page 32 of Mistletoe Face Off

“Ditto. Not the suit part.” I allow my eyes to roam over her curvaceous figure for a moment. But only a moment. I don’t want to come across as some kind of sleazebag, only interested in her for her body. Looking the way she does, it’s hard not to find her attractive. Very attractive.

Her face flushes pink, rendering her even more gorgeous. She clears her throat. “We got some serious press for that one little argument. Did you see?”

“It was hard not to. Some of them had some pretty good headlines, don’t you think? Personally, the one that said ‘ho ho ho hold up, Santa.’ was my favorite.”

“There was a lot of ho ho ho-ing going on.”

I shrug. “It’s low hanging fruit. I liked the one that said ‘yule be sorry.’”

“Well, are you?” she asks, but she's smiling.

“Actually, I am. I thought about it and you were right. I didn't lie to you exactly, but I wasn't one hundred per cent truthful, either. Friends?” I offer her my hand, and she takes it in hers. The touch of her warm, soft skin against mine feels… nice. More than nice.

“I feel like a little kid, holding hands with you.”

I look down to see how small her hand is in mine. “Nah, I'm just freakishly large. Oh, and burly. I almost forgot that part”

She lets out a laugh, and the tinkling sound makes me smile. “I'm sorry I called you that.”

“Don't be. I'm proud of my freakishly large size and general burliness.”

“I bet it comes in handy for certain things. Like playing hockey, for instance.”

“There are plenty of other reasons, too, like the fact I'm always the first to know when it rains, and my shadow can act as a sundial for people to tell the time of day.”

She lets out another light laugh. “Any non-weather related reasons?”

“Let me think. I was a natural at playing tall trees in grade school.”

“Did you play a lot of tall trees back then?” she asks, her eyes dancing.

“Only every year. My performance was considered a little wooden, though.”

She rolls her eyes. “That was a dad joke.”

We share a smile, and it feels like we've reached a truce. A truce and more. We're getting along, enjoying one another's company.

“Hey, I wanted to say that my offer of taking Macy onto the ice is still on the table,” I say.

“You don't have to do that. You're super busy with all the matches you've got on right now and all these Christmas events. She’ll understand.”

“I can make the time. I want to do it. She's a good kid.”

“She knew you weren't Santa.”

“I liked her logic. I couldn't be Santa because Santa doesn't figure skate.”

“No other reason.”

“No other reason.”

We share another smile and it does weird things to my heart.

“How about it? We could go to the Caulfield Rink and give it a shot after school one day.”

“I don't know, Harrison. I've tried to get her on the ice before, but she's always chickened out at the last minute.”

“Harry, remember? That’s what my friends call me.”

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