Page 29 of Christmas Kisses

Since she can’t deny my claims—because they’re true—Emma remains quiet.

“This won’t affect your position. I’ll?—”

“I’m not worried about my position. I’m just shocked. I thought your heart was too icy even for a Florida summer to thaw.”

I laugh. “I once thought the same. Then Kelsey showed up out of nowhere, teasing Santa, and everything changed.”

I realize I said my comment out loud when Emma murmurs, “Kelsey?”

There’s no leveraging my smile. “Yeah. She’s…”—my throat works through a stern swallow when I spot a pair of chocolate-brown eyes peering at me—“awake, so we’ll finalize this conversation later.”

“Zane—”

“Goodbye, Emma.” I disconnect our call before tossing my cell phone onto the bedside table next to Kelsey’s recently delivered iPhone. “Did I wake you?”

She shakes her head before she switches it to a nod. “I was cold.” My laugh rumbles louder than charity Santa’s call from the corner of Kelsey’s street when she murmurs, “That’s what I get for sleeping on ice-cream-smeared sheets.”

“It could have been worse.” A scent I’ll never get enough of fills my nostrils when I yank the bag of crushed candy canes I stored in the freezer last night from under the bedding. “This was digging into my back most of the night.”

I realize I’m not the only one becoming addicted to the shards of white crystal when Kelsey’s eyes bulge before she dives for the baggie of minty goodness I’m about to consume.

12

KELSEY

I’m loading sheets into the washing machine when Zane’s voice projects through the wall separating the bathroom from the laundry. “What do you mean the wedding is off?”

He sounds more upset than Peter’s family did when he announced the same thing. The only one who looked remotely teary-eyed was Peter’s mother. Valeria always treated me as if I were family. She’s kind and thoughtful, even going as far as to offer for us to wed at her family’s estate so my parents wouldn’t be financially decimated by a wedding that’s bill crept into six figures since Peter has so many extended family members.

“Ma, listen to me… That’s normal… Ma…”

Zane shifts his eyes to me when he spots me entering the living room, smiles to assure me he’s fine, and then returns to trying to calm down his mother, who sounds in full-blown meltdown mode.

“Cold feet aren’t reserved solely for your first wedding. They can occur at any time.” I slap my hand over my mouth to hide my smile when it becomes evident his mother didn’t hear the humor in his reply. “I’m not ashamed of you, Ma. I’d never?—”

He cusses before pulling his phone from his ear and selecting a recently called contact.

His call goes unanswered three times before he gives up.

After tossing his cell phone onto the kitchen counter, he scrubs his hand down his face. “I can’t say I’m shocked. This happens a lot. It’s just usuallyafterthey’ve tied the knot.” His hand falls from his face before his eyes align with mine. “This is the first time she’s cried, though.”

“Your mother has never cried before?”

I’m taken aback when he answers, “Not once. She has a heart of stone. That’s who Emma, my assistant, says I inherited mine from.”

“She said you have a heart of ice.” My eyes bulge when I realize my big mouth exposed that I’m a snoop.

Zane stares at me with his mouth gaping and his eyes wide. “You faked being asleep?”

“No.” My lie holds out for two seconds when I recall why he left my bed so early in the morning. He was extending his time in Ravenshoe, and I was so delighted he wanted to spend Christmas with me that I wanted to show him my thanks with my body. I couldn’t do that if he remained on the phone. “I faked searching for you.” When he continues to stare, I stomp my foot down like I’m years younger than I am. “What? I was horny, and you were wearing jeans without briefs. My reasoning would hold up in any court.”

Laughing, he bands his arms around my back and pulls me close. I’m in the giddy high of Christmas, and another emotion I’m certain it is too soon to announce, and I would love nothing more than to act on the tingles racing through my veins, but I can’t.

I can’t sob about the loss of human decency and stomp on it only a day later.

After sampling Zane’s lips for a measly thirty seconds, I give him his marching orders.

I shouldn’t love the devastation in his tone when he asks, “You’re kicking me out?” But I do.

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