Page 24 of Deck the Fire Halls

“Well, it does... sometimes. But can we drive?”

“Nope. It’s a few blocks, and honestly, it’ll be quicker than if you tried to find a parking space.” I chuckled at his expression. “Come on, city boy. You’ll be fine. You gotta get used to it. May as well start now.”

“City boy?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m older than you.” Then he made a face. “Well, I don’t know how old you are, exactly, but I already know I’m older than you.”

“I’m twenty-eight,” I admitted, quickly jumping on this perfect opportunity to ask his age. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-six.”

“You make it sound like you’re fifty-six. You’re still young.” I put my hands on his shoulders and turned him toward his front door. “Grab your coat or we’ll miss it.”

Thirty-six.

Eight years older than me. Now, that wasn’t a huge difference, and it certainly wasn’t a deal breaker. It was just different from what I was used to.

He slid his coat on and pulled his gloves from his coat pocket, so I did the same, pulling them on as we walked down his front steps to the sidewalk.

“It’s not even that cold yet,” I noted. “And there’s not too much snow.” I toed the small mound of build-up on the edge of the sidewalk. “It’s got a few feet to go yet.”

He made a face, which was adorably cute. “Remind me why I moved here? In winter?”

“Just you wait till you see how pretty it is.” I nodded to the direction of Main Street. “This way.”

He wasn’t too surefooted as we walked. “I never cared too much for walking in snow,” he said. “Seen far too many broken wrists and coccyx injuries for my liking.”

“What injuries?”

He rolled his eyes. “Coccyx. Tailbones.”

I laughed. “I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

“Are you twelve?”

“No. Twenty-eight. We just had this conversation. Is your memory going already, old man?”

He stopped walking to stare at me, but his foot slid. I grabbed him—one hand on his arm, the other on his waist, and pulled him against me. His face was closer than I anticipated, his eyes bluer under the streetlight.

“I’m not an old man,” he whispered.

“Oh, I know,” I replied. My gaze went to his lips, and so help me, I wanted to kiss him. He was close enough that I could have. I had him in my arms and could feel his body warmth.

And I could so easily lean in that final inch and press my lips to his...

But then he pulled away, clearing his throat and brushing himself down. “I, uh, I, um... thank you. For not letting me fall over.”

My heart was still hammering and my breath left me in a plume of steam. “I just didn’t want you to hurt your coccyx.”

His cheeks went red and he mumbled something under his breath before he began walking again. “So what is this tree lighting ceremony exactly?”

I fell into step beside him. “There’s a huge fir tree by the river, and every year they cover it in lights and the mayor wishes everyone happy holidays.”

Rob made a face. “Sounds . . . fun.”

I laughed. “It’s a community thing. It’s not the big winter wonderland thing when they close the street off. That’s on Christmas Eve this year. That’s the fun one. People come from all over. There are food and craft stalls, a kiddie train, photos with Santa, and we bring the fire engine down by the tree so the kids can climb up.”

That made him smile at least. “So why are we going tonight?”

“Because there’s some people I want you to meet,” I admitted.

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