Page 101 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

“Q,” Elliot groans. “This is Bonnie. Bonnie, this is my idiot friend, Quinten.”

Smiling, I remind myself not to bite my crimson-red lips—Merlee said I could eat with the lip stain, but I don’t want to ruin my look. I have never spent that much time in a beauty parlor before. “Nice to meet you.”

“How’s the pup?” Q says, brows bouncing.

I look down at Noel. “She’s great. Thanks.”

Quinten laughs, eyes dropping to Noel. “I didn’t know she was invited.”

I give a one-shoulder shrug. “She goes where I go.”

“Hey, I think it’s cool you pulled one over on my stickler friend,” Q says. “He needs to learn to lighten up sometimes.”

My hand in Elliot’s tightens. “He does love a good rule.”

“Okay, that’s it. You two need to be separated,” Elliot says, his hand slipping from mine and wrapping around mywaist. He pulls me a little closer—I don’t mind. This is the part we’re playing. For one more night. “You,” he says, pointing to Q. “Go say hello to my gran. She’s in the dining area. And then, I thought you might want to know that Melanie Capryl is here. I don’t know where, so you’ll have to search.”

“The girl from last year? The one I never saw again? The number I never got?” With each question, Q’s grin grows wider.

“The very one,” Elliot tells him.

Quinten pumps a fist into the air. “Bonnie, it’s been a pleasure. I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you. I think my boy got attached. But I’ve got to run.”

“See you,” I say as Quinten slaps Elliot’s shoulder and takes off toward the dining room—a man on a mission.

“He was…fun,” I say.

“He is. Most of the time.” Elliot pulls me tighter against him and presses a small, chaste, fake-boyfriendish kiss to my temple.

It’s sweet and loving and makes me feel warm all over. That is until—grrr.

“Is that your stomach again?” Elliot pulls back, his eyes dropping to my abdomen.

May’s spread of food at this party is nothing short of amazing. Though I haven’t eaten since we arrived. I’d cry if I got anything on this dress.

“Maybe,” I say with a small shrug.

“Okay, time to eat. I’m not letting you brush me off again.” His hand presses to the small of my back, sending a burst of tickles sprinkles over each of my limbs. “I promise you’ll be okay. And if you aren’t, Gran has an amazing dry cleaner.”

I purse my lips, still unsure, still imagining all the things I could do to harm the most beautiful thing I will ever own.

“Elliot,” Marlene says on our way to the food. She waves a beckoning hand at her son. “Ren Arnold is here, from Illinois. Come say hello.”

Elliot leans close and I breathe him in like an intoxicating bottle of the finest Christmas tree wine. “Because I like you,” he says, his breath warming my cheek and shoulder, “I’m going to spare you a Ren Arnold introduction. You go find a nice, clean cucumber sandwich. No one was ever stained with a cucumber sandwich. And then we’ll dance.”

I might be starving, so much that a cucumber sandwich sounds as appetizing as a rib-eye steak at this point. I nod and grin my thanks, watching him go just across the room to where Marlene now stands with a very animated bald man. He’s got a lot to say and one killer combover. I smother a laugh as the man slaps Elliot on the back and bellows out his name.

“That smile could light up a Christmas tree,” says a man just three feet from me in this crowded dining room. The dining table and chairs are gone, and thin tables line the walls, tables with food galore. It’s a hungry woman’s dream and a red dress’s nightmare.

I peer up to the tall, thin stranger standing opposite me. “Oh, ah, hello.”

“Like I said, beautiful smile.”

I give one slightly uncomfortable nod and peer down at Noel. “Thanks.” Then, picking up my feet, I walk down the row of food, looking for those cucumber sandwiches Elliot promised would be here.

But the long-legged man follows. “I’m Wayne Lloyd.”

Noel stays close to my side. Man, I love that pup.

---