Page 16 of A Very Grumpy Christmas

He rubs the back of his neck, looking unusually sheepish. “Cora.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re finally admitting it, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Huxley mutters, though there’s a smile on his face. “But I have no idea what to do. She’s... difficult.”

I snort. “Difficult? She’s perfect for you, and you know it.”

“Maybe, but she’s also impossible to figure out. Every time I try to get close, she pushes me away. What am I supposed to do?”

I think for a moment, then grin. “Stop pissing her off, for one.”

Huxley laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, easier said than done.”

We spend the next hour brainstorming ideas, throwing out everything from grand romantic gestures to simple conversations. But in the back of my mind, all I can think about is Ginger. That kiss. And whether or not she feels the same way I do.

Because in two days, I’ll know for sure.

The holiday party is coming up, and everything will be decided under that mistletoe.

Best or worst Christmas ever—I guess I’m about to find out.

EIGHT

Ginger

It’sthe day of the holiday party, and I can’t stop thinking about the kiss.

For two days, that moment has been playing on a loop in my mind. The warmth of his lips, the way he stepped close to me under the mistletoe, how my heart raced like it was about to burst out of my chest. I’ve been floating on this strange, giddy feeling ever since, and no matter how much I try to focus on anything else, all I can think about isKip.

And his kiss.

And the fact that he’s my secret admirer. He’s the man who wrote me such sweet words, who made me feel special and seen and beautiful. I know it.

I’ve been helping set up for the party all day, but my mind keeps drifting. Every time I pass the mistletoe, my stomach flips, because tonight… tonight is the night.

Will he show? Will he admit that he’s the one who has been sending me letters?

It’s almost 9 PM, and the party is in full swing, with people milling about, grabbing hot chocolate and other treats, and looking at the little vendor tables. But I’m standing here, waiting. Waiting for Kip to show up, waiting for him to kiss me again.

I already know it’s him. I knew the moment I saw how he reacted to those guys flirting with me. The jealousy in his eyes, the way he stepped in without hesitation—that’s when it clicked. The guy I’d been hoping for, the guy I’d been falling in love with through words, was Kip all along.

Now, I just need him to show up.

I glance around the town square, feeling that familiar twinge of nerves. The twinkling lights, the smell of cinnamon and pine, the sound of laughter and Christmas carols—it’s all perfect. But my heart is pounding, and I can’t focus on any of it. All I care about ishim.

I check the clock again. Two minutes to nine. My hands are sweaty, and my heart is racing. I’ve never been this nervous in my life.

And then, I see him.

Kip walks through the crowd, looking as nervous as I feel. His dark hair is a little messy from the cold wind, and his strong jaw is clenched like he’s trying to steel himself for something. He’s scanning the space, and when his eyes land on me, his whole body seems to relax, even if it’s just for a moment.

He starts walking toward me, but before he can get too far, I do the only thing I can think of—I run.

I don’t wait for him to reach the mistletoe. I don’t care about anything else in this moment. All I care about ishim.I run across the square, my boots slipping slightly on the icy sidewalk, and when I reach him, I leap into his arms.

He catches me, his eyes wide with surprise, but I don’t give him time to react. I press my lips to his, and everything else fallsaway. The music, the people, the noise—it’s all gone, replaced by the warmth of his kiss.

His arms tighten around me, holding me close, and I can feel his heart pounding in his chest. When we finally pull apart, I’m breathless, and I can see the shock in his eyes.

---