Page 62 of The Christmas Cookie Crush

After capping the bottle, she gestures at me. “Okay. Present.”

Peering into the bag, I start laughing and pull out a package of Warheads. “Seriously? You gave me endless amounts of shit for the Warheads I gave you, and you give me some back?”

A lopsided smile on her face, she shrugs and crosses her arms. “I thought it’d be funny. There’s more, though. That’s not the real present.”

Another laugh comes out as I pull out a package of Sour Patch Kids.

“Those are actually good, though,” she says, pointing at me. “I wouldn’t have ever admitted this to you before, but I credit you for turning me on to sour candies. Warheads are still too sour, but Sour Patch Kids are delicious. It’s what I eat when I’m studying or trying to finish a paper on a tight deadline.”

“Good to know,” I murmur, looking back in the bag. Something else is hiding under another layer of tissue paper, and I pull out a black beanie with pops of turquoise along the brim, fading to turquoise with spots of black at the top.

“I noticed you don’t wear a hat,” she says. “I thought maybe you didn’t have one, and I thought you could use one. I liked it. And it’ll go with your coat. The lady makes them all by hand.”

Stepping up to her, I hook an arm around her and pull her in for a kiss. “It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she murmurs, a tremor running through her.

Looking down at her, my brows crease. “Are you cold? Get in the bath. I’ll grab the strawberries and champagne.”

Her smile looks forced again, and I don’t understand why. But she just nods and turns for the tub. She must still be tired from today. This week. The whole month.

I’m tired, too, if I’m honest. But I don’t have millions of kids going through my area the way she does. Maybe she’s coming down with something.

I take time to uncork the champagne and pour some into the flutes, supporting both glasses between the fingers of one hand and carrying the plate of strawberries with the other. When I get back into the bathroom, Nora’s slouched down into the bathtub almost as far as she can go, both hands covering her face.

“Nora?” I ask softly. When she doesn’t respond right away, I clear my throat and try again. The water’s still running. She must not’ve heard me the first time.

That does the trick. She pulls her hands down, dragging them along her cheeks like she’s trying to wipe her eyes without giving it away. My brow pulls together in concern. Her face looks damp, but if her hands were wet, that could explain it. And there’s water on her arms and wrists, plus wisps of her hair stick to her cheeks. Most of it’s piled on top of her head, but the parts she calls baby hairs form a halo around her head, making her look almost angelic with her pale face and round eyes.

She gives me that same wan smile from earlier, sitting up and making room for me to join her. When I set down the chocolate-covered strawberries, she gives the first genuine reaction since we had sex. The sight of them perks her up, and she sits up straighter, bubbles sliding down her chest.

After picking up a strawberry, she catches me checking her out and laughs. And that sound makes me feel even better.

Giving her a lopsided smile, I shrug one shoulder and pass her a glass of champagne. “What? You’re hot.”

She laughs again, her mouth full of strawberry and chocolate. When she manages to swallow, a closed-mouth smile still on her face, she shakes her head. “Don’t make me laugh while I’m eating, jerk.”

Grinning, I climb into the tub facing her, grateful to whoever decided to put the faucet on the long side instead of at one of the ends. The bathtub designer was clearly thinking ahead. At first it seemed odd to me, but now I get it.

My legs tangle with hers, and she rubs her foot on my thigh, making my dick perk up a little even though it hasn’t been that long since I came. Pretty hard, too.

“God, you’re sexy,” I murmur, letting my eyes trail down her face and body.

“Thanks,” she says, her voice soft. “So are you.”

When I look at her face, her eyes are on my chest, but she raises them to mine after a moment, giving me that sad smile again.

I debate whether or not to ask what’s wrong again. She waved off my question earlier, and I’d hoped that relaxing with me would help dispel whatever’s causing her to look sad. But I’m not sure I buy the excuse that she’s just tired.

“Are you feeling okay?” I ask, leaning forward and picking up one of the strawberries.

When I bite into it, bits of chocolate crunch off and fall to my chest, which makes her giggle. “Yeah,” she says as I collect them, not wanting melted chocolate in our bath water. “I’m okay.”

I quickly bite off the rest of the strawberry, leaving only the leafy cap in my hand so I don’t spill more chocolate. As I chew, I study Nora, who seems to be avoiding my gaze.

“Are you?” I press after I swallow, reaching for my champagne.

A series of expressions flits across her face so quickly I can’t really read any one of them. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” she says at last, swishing her arms through the water and gathering bubbles to her chest. Then she crosses her arms.

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