Page 65 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

“Yes. It’s true. You were the victim. I was the villain.”

I lick my lips, then lift my head to peer up at him. He’sno villain. But he’s giving me a story instead of that scary blank page. “Okay,” I say.

Elliot’s eyes fall to my mouth. I don’t imagine it. I don’t dream up that look on his face.

No one is here. No one is watching. But his eyes find my lips, and it’s as if I have no option—my eyes drop to his.

We’re five days into this twelve-day game May has us playing. At this point, I am well acquainted with Elliot James Eaton’s lips. And yet, they make my stomach flip-flop as if tempting me for the very first time.

THIRTY-TWO

elliot

I am seriously contemplating kissingmy fake girlfriend. Why not? I’ve kissed her before. Would it be that big of a deal? If I pressed my lips to Bonnie Faith Miller’s lips, who would know, who would care? Besides Bonnie, of course.

I lean in an inch, and she doesn’t go anywhere. She’s not running—it’s very encouraging.

Maybe she’s caught up in this game Gran has us playing, or maybe she’d like to kiss me too.

I’m not the kind of guy to kiss just anyone—and while she isn’t a stranger anymore, she isn’t my girlfriend either.

Strawberry-blonde hair falls over her shoulder in a side ponytail, and like her lips, those soft tendrils beg to be touched. I lift my hand to her neck, sliding my fingers up to the back of her head, my fingers slipping through the soft strands of hair there.

She breathes, and a foggy mist exhales from her lips—it’s cold out here and Bonnie’s coat is inside. I could warm her up—here and now.

I lean one more inch, and I swear her chin tips up to me. In this moment, I think she might want this kiss as much as I do.

The door behind us rumbles as it slides open. “Bonnie, dear? You’re going to catch your death of cold out here,” Gran says.

Bonnie’s shoulders straighten up and she faces forward, away from my incriminating lips and away from my hand holding her head. But it’s too late. Gran smiles after examining us.

I drop my hand into my lap and stifle a sigh.

“Are we practicing out here? Oh, good! We need all the practice we can get.” She waves a hand at us. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

I thought we were doing okay in the kissing department—and yet, with the reminder that I’ve kissed Bonnie a handful of times because of mygrandmother, my confidence takes a dive.

I clear my throat and roll my tight shoulders. “We were just talking.”

“Hmm. Well, that’s disappointing.” Gran huffs. “Are we okay out here?” Gran’s gentle eyes fall to Bonnie.

She nods. “Yes, we’re okay,” Bonnie tells her.

“Then whenever you’re ready, dear, I’ve got the dough all rolled out.”

Bonnie’s throat bobs in a swallow. She gives me the smallest of glances before looking back to my grandmother. “Thank you, May. I’ll be right in.”

Gran shivers before stepping back inside and sliding the door shut.

Thanks, Gran.

Bonnie gets to her feet, and with her movement, Noelhops up. That pup doesn’t miss a beat. If Bonnie’s ready to go, so is she. She turns for the door then back to me, her body twitching like a switch that doesn’t know which way to turn.

“Uh—do we need to talk aboutthat?”

I shrug. “About what?” I say, letting her know it’s all water under the bridge. Gone—but I won’t forget. I’m trying to decide if I’m more upset that Gran stopped us or that I’ve lost my mind.

“Okay.” She twists for the door and then back to me once more. Indecisive and nervous once again. “Because if we do?—”

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