Page 202 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

"We follow you on everything, so we knew you were in town because of that picture on your stories yesterday."

"Right, yeah." He swallowed. "What do you do?"

She pressed a hand to her chest, her red fingernails bright against her green sweater. "I manage the humane society."

"Oh, cool."

"You know, it'd mean the world to us if you could come by before you leave. Take a couple of pictures of you and the animals. Something for us to post and drive up donations and adoptions. Even after Hazel's big fundraiser in October, we're always looking for help."

"Right, yeah, sure. I'm sure we can find time."

"Aren't you wonderful! When do you think you can?"

"Let me talk to Rose. In fact," he lifted the cups in his hands, "one of these is hers. I should probably get it to her."

"Okay, don't forget about me, though."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

She reached up and patted him on the shoulder. "You're just as sweet as you seem on your show."

"'Preciate it."

Jerking her head toward my mom and sister and their focus on their task, she added, "Watch out for those two. They're mostly harmless, but they take this very seriously."

One corner of his mouth lifted, making him look more like the man I'd gotten to know. "I understand."

He set two of the cups on the little table pushed into the corner. The hot chocolate he extended toward me smelled sweet. I glanced down at my hands, that had sprouted even more ornaments.

His chuckle set my heart to a different rhythm.

"It's not actually hot. I could hold it for you." There was a golden ring around his pupil. It must have been the lighting that made it seem brighter, and nothing to do with the yearning tug of his gaze on mine.

I glanced from side to side. Mom and Rose had dashed up the stairs to grab something from Mom's van. Tucked into the corner behind the tree, we were mostly hidden. Not that there was anything wrong with him holding a cup for me. If anyone saw us, they probably wouldn't think anything of it.

But I knew.

I wasn't desperate for the taste of chocolate on my tongue. I wasn't thirsty. I didn't need what was in that cup.

It was Will.

His mossy green eyes locked onto my lips pinched between my teeth.

"I could use a drink," I said, and if my voice was a bit breathy, I didn't blame me.

A muscle flexed in his jaw. He took a step closer. Just close enough that I could barely catch the clean scent of his skin. His pulse thrummed against his throat.

Holding the cup a few inches from my face, he directed, "Tilt your head back."

I blinked out of my daze, suddenly aware of my caramel-colored cashmere sweater and the potential of a stain. "You won't spill, right?"

A smile split his face, and I stopped caring if I ended up wearing the whole ten-ounce cup.

Just pour it on me.

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