Page 15 of The Mechanic's Secret Santa

“You’ve said it yourself. Your Mom’s changed. If you told her?—”

“Drop it, Aaron.” The fire in her eyes morphs into pleading. “Please?”

Though I think Meg sharing her expansion plan with her mom would cement Kendra’s decision to sign over the deed, I don’t want to push. This is Meg’s battle. I’m here to support her, not push her. “Okay.”

“Everything okay?” Kendra asks. Meg startles in her chair, but quickly recovers by reaching for her mimosa glass. “Looked like you were discussing something pretty serious.”

I squeeze Meg’s hand. “Just that I don’t have a Christmas tree in my apartment, yet.”

“No tree?” Kendra gasps like I just committed an unforgiveable crime. Meg sends me a look of gratitude. “Christmas is inthreedays.”

“Don’t worry, Mom. I just promised Aaron I’ll help him rectify this travesty immediately. We’re headed out to get a tree right now.”

“Oh, good!” Kendra relaxes. “You two are really good for each other, you know that? Aaron, I’m so happy you convinced my daughter that there’s a life outside of running a bakery. You really can have your cake and eat it too.”

“Mom!”

“Say, will you two join me for Christmas Eve dinner? I was going to make a reservation. Hard to cook a meal out of a hotel room?—”

“Come to my place,” Aaron offers. “I’m happy to cook dinner.”

Meg stares at me like I’ve grown an extra head. “You cook?”

Yeah, I’ve been saving that little nugget for the right moment. I’m actually pretty comfortable in a kitchen. “Before I earned the title of car chief, I spent a lot of my spare time cooking for the crews I worked with. We were often on the road during holidays. I can whip up a good pot roast with my eyes closed.” I squeeze Meg’s hand. “I’m sure you could give me a hand with dessert.”

“It’s settled then!” Kendra gives us both a quick hug before following a friend of hers out of the café.

“Come on,” Meg says, dropping the cloth napkin on top of her empty plate and pushing out of her chair.

“Oh, you want dessert now.” I wriggle my eyebrows playfully.

“Stop it,” she scolds, but her smile is impossible to hide. I can practically taste her pussy on my tongue. I know I’m not the only one who’s been thinking about what we did last night on her prep table. “First, we need to get you a tree. I will never hear the end of it if Mom shows up on Christmas Eve to discover you’re a total Grinch.”

“I’m not a Grinch.”

“You’re right. Even he had a tree.”

“Hestolehis.”

“You’re lucky I don’t feel like getting arrested today.” She tugs on my elbow until I pick up my pace. Snowflakes fall lazily from the sky, but there’s still a chill in the air. I notice, once again, that Meg has opted for no gloves.

Two blocks from the restaurant, I pull her into a gift shop.

“They don’t sell trees here.”

With her arm looped through mine, I tug her toward a bin next to a rack of winter coats. It’s filled with fuzzy gloves of all colors and patterns. “Pick a pair.”

“I don’t need gloves.”

“Babe, your fingers are as cold as the Grinch’s heart before it grew three sizes.” I cup her cheek, tracing my fingers along her jaw. I wonder what she’d do if I kissed her where anyone in town might see. It’s not to appease Kendra. It’s my own selfish desire to taste those lips. “Pick a pair or I’ll pick one for you.”

“You’re bossy,” she says, fishing a pair of red gloves adorned in gold snowflakes from the bin and trying them on. They remind me of the gift bag she had dangling on her wrist the day she proposed we fake a relationship.

“I’mbossy?”

Meg bites her lip and lowers her voice, “Sometimes I like it.”

“Youarethinking about dessert.”

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