Page 48 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

“Yes, do that, Elliot.” May waves her one free hand our way.

Elliot’s back arches just a little as his hands move from my hips to my back. I move a few inches closer to him with the motion.

My chest bumps his and a small “Yeep” escapes me. I blink up at him. “Sorry.”

Elliot breathes out a small, lifeless laugh. “It’s okay.”

“Sorry?” May says. “There shouldn’t be any space there at all. You’re on the right track, Bonnie. Closer!”

“Gran,” Elliot moans—without any emotion. We both know we’ve lost this fight and his objections have less oomph to them.

“Hold her,” May says, hands out, one with the phone and Bill pointed our way.

“Now,” Bill says, “kiss the girl.”

I blink up to the mistletoe May has purposely placed us beneath. I swallow, hoping I don’t still have decaf coffee breath.

“Okay?” Elliot says, a question for me.

My heart thunders and I say a small prayer that he can’t feel it thumping into his own chest. I blink and give the smallest of nods, consent.

Elliot’s mouth hovers a centimeter from mine for only a second before I shut my eyes and wait. Warm and sweet, soft and strong claim me.

All at once, I am no longer in control of my limbs. My arms tighten their hold around his neck, my fingers threading through Elliot’s short hair, and I pull him closer to me.

Elliot teases my lips open, and I forget for a second where we are, that this should most definitely be a PG kind of kiss. Instead, I let him kiss me thoroughly, deeply, into oblivion. I kiss him back, only contemplating the softness of his down-pillow lips, and what they do to my insides.

“Maybe they should be giving us lessons, May.”

That voice shouldn’t be here.

Not while I’m kissing Elliot like this.

My lips and tongue freeze. My teeth grazing Elliot’s bottom lip have halted mid-graze. He slips himself from my hold and I press my swollen lips together. I’m up on my toes—though I’m not sure when that happened—and I drop back to my heels.

“That was good,” May says as if she’s simply agreeing with Bill. They are judging the competition for the most seductive kiss, and Elliot and I have just won. “Kiss her just like that tomorrow.”

I swallow. “Um, tomorrow?”

“Christmas tree hunting,” May says. “I’m too old to be cutting down trees. I won’t be going. But you will and I want you to kiss Elliot just like that in front of his whole family.”

Okay—forget odd, this just jumped up to crazy town.

“Surely not just like that,” I say with a delirious, breathy laugh. No one should ever kiss anyone like that in public. I never meant to.

“Justlike that,” May says, giving me that I-can-see-you-even-when-I’m-not-around eye that mothers seem to have.

“Sounds great, Gran. We will be sure to do that. Bye, Bill.” Elliot is in speed mode; he speaks like he’s just passed his auctioneer test. And then he hangs up on Bill.

“Elliot James. That was rude,” May says. “Where are your manners?”

“You’re right,” he tells her. “I don’t know where my manners are. I’m going to drive Bonnie home. Do you need me to come back?”

May swats his hand, still on her phone. “I’m not an infant. I don’t need you to tuck me in.”

“Great, I’ll call you in the morning.” He’s still earning that speed-talking degree when he snatches a hold of my hand and tugs me to May’s front entrance. Noel’s collar jingles as she trots behind us, right on our heels.

“Bye, May!” I call while Elliot forces me out into the cold. It got pretty warm in May’s house. I’m sweating.

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