Page 35 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

“Do we need to hold up pretenses here?” I say, trying to help him out—as well as myself. But I’m not sure if May Elliot ever rests.

“Everywhere, dearest. This is the bargain you’ve made.”

“But they don’t know that we’re”—I use air quotes and raise my brows—“dating.” I peer around at my elderly friends filling up the room.

“They don’t know that you aren’t, either.”

“Gran, do we really need to fake it here?”

May’s eyes land on Bill. “You used the ‘F’ word, Elliot. That isn’t allowed in public.”

I swallow and jump in to save Elliot. “Bill knows. He’s a dear friend and I told him. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

May sighs. “Well, now you know. Itisa big deal. No more bean-spilling, okay?”

I nod and chant in my head:For Noel!

She lifts the end of my red feather boa, lobbing it side to side. “Lovely.”

“Oh, I have another.” I point to my tub on the table. “Do you want one?”

She shakes her head. “No, dear. But I will take a seat.” May tilts her head, eyes still sizing up Bill, whose wife died back in 1993. “Go on, Elliot, greet your girl.”

Elliot’s hands are shoved in his pocket, and he looks as if he doesn’t know what to do. I can be a big girl. This is fake and false and all for Noel. So, I stand on my tiptoes. “Hello,honey,” I say, a tad too much 1950s TV drama, and press a kiss to his cheek.

Elliot’s head shifts with my touch—while I’m still on my toes. Warm, minty breath heats my lips and fills my nostrils. I swallow, goosebumps erupting over my arms and neck, then bob back onto my heels.

“Hi,” I mutter a second time.

His gaze casts down to mine and he offers me a close-lipped grin. “Hi, Bonnie.”

A foreign thumping pounds in my chest. Then, as if he needs her as much as I do, Elliot turns his attention to my pup.

“Hello to you too, Noel.” He scratches behind her right ear, her very favorite spot, and my heart wallops rebelliously again.

Business deal, I remind it.Business.

Because we’re not getting all complicated and having feelings for my fake boyfriend of two days. The one who tried to evict Noel. No, we are not. That would be ludicrous.

May’s eyes go wide, and behind me, Bill clears his throat.

“Oh!” I smack my palm to my head. I hadn’t meant to be rude—nope, I was just thoroughly distracted. Distracted, confused, and in denial. “May, this is my very good friend Bill White. Bill, this is Elliot’s grandmother and the owner of my building, May Elliot.”

“Well, aren’t you a hottie,” Bill says, and I choke on absolutely nothing.

“Heynow,” Elliot growls, “that’s my?—”

“Oh, hush.” May shakes her head, and I don’t think I’m imagining the pink growing in her cheeks. “The man is entitled to his opinions, Elliot. Same as you. Go find me some tea, will you?”

Elliot’s tight jaw slackens. “Tea,” he grumbles. “Sure.”

May sits in the chair right next to Bill, holding out a hand to him. He slides his wrinkled palm into hers, but instead of shaking, he brings her fingers to his lips, kissing the back of her hand.

“Oh brother,” Elliot groans.

I snatch a hold of Elliot’s arm. “Come on. I know where the tea is.” I tug him over to the drink station where we have hot and iced tea. For some reason, I keep my hands on his upper arm. I can feel the defined bicep inside that sweater. I haven’t seen it, but now I know it’s there. And it’s as if I can’t let go. I blame his dumb sweater. It tells me nothing and now I’m curious. I’m imagining things… It would be better to just see things—therealthing—for myself so my brain would stop running.

Noel sits back with Bill and May, which says a lot for Elliot. She trusts him. My pup is a good judge of character and a good judge of me. After only a couple days she trusts Elliot. Which, I guess, means that I do too.

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