Page 15 of A Very Grumpy Christmas

I turn to face her, my anger fading the moment I see her face. She’s not upset—if anything, she looks amused. “Sorry,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “They were bothering you.”

She smiles, a real one this time, and it sends a wave of warmth through me. “Thanks, Kip. But I could’ve handled it.”

“I know,” I say, trying not to sound too defensive. “But I didn’t like the way they were looking at you.”

Her smile softens, and for a moment, we just stand there, the noise of the town fading into the background. There’s something between us, something I can’t quite put into words, but it’s there. It’s always been there.

“Hey, I need to head back to the bookstore for a bit,” Ginger says, breaking the silence. “Want to walk with me?”

I nod, eager for any excuse to spend more time with her. “Sure.”

We leave the town hall together, the cold winter air biting at our faces as we walk down the snow-covered streets. It’s quiet, the town peaceful in the early evening, and for once, I feel calm. Just being near her makes everything feel right.

As we reach the bookstore, something catches my eye—mistletoe, hanging just above the door. My heart skips a beat, and I glance at Ginger, wondering if she’s noticed it too.

She does. Her eyes flick up to the mistletoe, then back to me, a nervous smile playing on her lips.

This is it. No backing out this time.

I take a step closer to her, my heart pounding in my chest as I reach for her hand. She doesn’t pull away. If anything, she steps closer too, her breath visible in the cold air between us.

And then, without overthinking it, I lean in and press my lips to hers.

It’s soft at first, tentative, like we’re both testing the waters. But then she kisses me back, and everything else disappears. Thecold, the snow, the world—it’s all gone, replaced by the warmth of her lips, the way she fits perfectly against me.

It feels right. More right than anything has in a long time.

When we finally pull apart, my heart is racing, and I can see the same surprise in her eyes that I feel. For a moment, I wonder if she knows—if she realizes that I’m the one who’s been writing to her all these months.

But before I can say anything, she smiles, and it’s like the whole world lights up. “I guess that’s what happens under mistletoe, huh?”

I chuckle, though my mind is still racing. “Yeah, I guess so.”

We stand there for a moment longer, the weight of the kiss lingering between us, but then she steps back, her smile soft and shy. “I should get back to work.”

“Right,” I say, nodding. “I’ll, uh... see you later?”

She nods, her cheeks flushed as she heads into the bookstore. I stand there for a second, watching her disappear behind the door, and I can’t help but wonder—did she kiss me because she wanted to? Or was it just because of the mistletoe?

The question gnaws at me as I turn and walk away, my mind spinning with uncertainty. Does she like me? Or is she just caught up in the tradition, the magic of the season?

I head towards work, the snow crunching beneath my boots as I try to make sense of it all. By the time I reach the garage, Huxley is there, working on one of the helicopters.

“How’d it go with Ginger?” he asks, not looking up from the engine.

I hesitate, the memory of the kiss still fresh in my mind. “We kissed.”

Huxley looks up, eyebrows raised. “Seriously? That’s great, man!”

I shrug, though my heart is still pounding. “Yeah, but... I don’t know. It was under mistletoe. What if it was just because of that? What if she doesn’t actually...”

Huxley shakes his head, grinning. “Come on, Kip. If she kissed you, it’s not just because of mistletoe. Trust me.”

I don’t respond, the doubts still lingering in the back of my mind. But then Huxley changes the subject, his grin widening.

“Speaking of girls, I need your help with something.”

I raise an eyebrow. “With what?”

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