Page 85 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

I nod and sit up to finally look at him. “It’s a little confusing, isn’t it? With all the kissing and the pretending.”

His brows cinch. “Maybe. But that’ll end.”

I nod, slow and strained—because that doesn’t offer much comfort. “I don’t want the fake to confuse or taint the real.” I swallow and lick my lips, trying to find the courage to mention Autumn’s idea—revisiting. Will that chase him off prematurely?

“Okay,” he says, speaking before I can. “What if we said these feelings, whatever this is, aretabled.”

“Tabled?” I nibble on my lip. I don’t know if I like that word. I suppose it’s the same as revisiting.

“Hear me out. Wetableit—to make it less confusing.”

“Like we’llrevisitthis?”

“Exactly. We’ll go through Gran’s motions. And then, after Christmas?—”

“After The Twelve Days of Mistletoe.” I lift my brows. May’s title is a fun one.

He breathes out a quick laugh. “Yes, after that, we start new. Slow and fresh.” He cups my cheek, his thumb tracing below my left eye. “Because while this may be an odd way to start something, I like you, Bonnie Miller. I can’t deny it anymore.”

My heart lurches with his words and my insides warm at his touch. “Okay, so we’re going totablethis, until later.”

“Until later,” he agrees.

My chest deflates with a breath and my eyes flutter closed.

Elliot still holds my face in his hands, and when I open my eyes and look at him, he’s peering down at me, like he’s studying me. “You’re courageous.”

I smirk. “Courageous?”

“Yes,” he says, and the word holds no humor. “And you make me feel things.” Elliot leans in, making me feel all sorts of things. His lips brush mine and my head goes foggy.

With a hand on his chest, I stop the man before I let him swallow me whole. “This doesn’t feel like tabling,” I whisper.

Elliot blinks, his head dipping and his lashes tickling the skin on my cheek. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”

FORTY

elliot

We’ve madeit to day ten of Gran’s twelve days of mistletoe. Kissing Bonnie Miller is the easiest assignment anyone has ever given me. I’ll take that homework any day.

As Gran calls it, we’ve got another big performance today. At first, I thought she meant the Bozeman Symphony, the Christmas concert we’re headed to with Mom, Dad, and my sisters. But oh no—she meant Bonnie and me.Weare the performance. She wants us to, and I quote, “sell it today.”

And while tabling our feelings during this time of pretend seemed like the grown-up, responsible thing to do, my feelings for Bonnie won’t pause while we wait for the holidays and this act to come to an end.

“Does Bonnie know what to wear?” Gran says, interrupting my thoughts. She sits in the passenger seat of my car, hands in her lap and a triumphant grin on her face.

“You told her smart casual, festive attire, remember? Bonnie and I both had to google it to know what you mean. But we figured it out.”

“Well, you’re in a suit.”

“Red tie—that’s festive,” I complain.

“Yes, but a jacket?” Gran tsks at my perfectly nice jacket. “A sweater and tie would have been more smart casual, maybe the jacket without the tie. We’ll just have to see what she’s in. You don’t want to ruin it.”

I smirk. “I’m pretty sure I’m not going to ruin anything. And Bonnie’s a smart dresser.”

“She’s adorable!” Gran bites. “And you’re an idiot for not snatching her up before another man does so.”

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