Page 68 of Deck the Fire Halls

“Absolutely,” Hamish said. His attention drew back to me. “I’m going to need all the details. Will you be at the youth center tomorrow, perhaps?”

I bit back a smile. “Ah, no, actually. I’m working for the next three days.”

Hamish looked stricken before he pursed his lips and nodded. “Okay, we need a group chat.”

“Hamish, dear,” Crystal called out. “Your coffees.”

He took the two takeout cups from the counter and gave us a parting, excited smile. “Have fun,” he said, before breezing out the front doors.

I cleared my throat. “So glad that wasn’t awkward or embarrassing.”

Soren laughed. “He’s going to need details.”

“Oh, believe me, he’s not getting details.”

Crystal slid our coffees in front of us. “Oh, Hamish is a real hoot, isn’t he?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she went back behind the counter. “Pies’ll be out in one sec.”

I smiled at my coffee, taking a moment to considerthe last few minutes. “So, does everyone know everyone’s business in this town?”

“Pretty much.” Soren nodded slowly. “Especially when it’s a newcomer to town and he’s the new doctor. And especially when he’s a handsome, eligible bachelor. I’m sure there were some lovely single folks who were hopeful of catching his eye.”

I smiled at him, meeting his gaze. “They can be disappointed.”

He cracked a grin. “Yes, they can.”

Crystal put two plates in front of us, with two of the most delicious looking, golden brown flakey pies, and even a scoop of mashed potatoes. “Enjoy, boys,” she said.

“Wow.” I cut into the pie to let some steam out. “This was a great choice.”

And it was absolutely delicious.

As was the man sitting across from me.

He cleared his throat and it made me realize I’d been caught staring. When my gaze met his, his eyes were dark. “You keep looking at me like that,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “You shouldn’t look at me like that, Robinson.”

Holy hell.

My whole body flushed hot at his tone, his words. The way he said my first name. And the heat in his eyes.

I couldn’t find the words to say or the ability to say them, though I’m sure the color of my face said it all.

He let out a low breath. “Jesus. That makes being a gentleman very hard.” He shifted in his seat and squinted uncomfortably. “You’re freaking killing me.”

“About that,” I managed, my voice just above a whisper. “You being a gentleman. It’s very gallant, and I appreciate the restraint. But...”

“But what?”

“I don’t want you to be a gentleman anymore.”

His gaze cut to mine, understanding exactly what I meant. I nodded anyway, in case he needed confirmation.

His nostrils flared. “Let’s go,” he said, pulling out his wallet and throwing some twenties on the table. He slid out of the booth, grabbing his jacket on the way.

I scrambled to catch up, saying thanks to Crystal as we hurried out the door. He had his jacket on and his leg over the bike in a flash. We fixed our helmets and he started the bike, barely waiting for me to wrap my arms around him before we were driving down Main Street.

He pulled into his driveway and cut the engine, and the silence again was so freaking loud.

Because now there was nothing to fill the void. Nothing but us and what I’d told him I wanted to do.

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