Page 53 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

I giggle, shaking my head. “It’s edible, Key, not an ornament.”

“Oh, it’s going up there,” he says with a wink. “Best Christmas ever.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Ihum to myself as I lounge in the chair next to the smaller fireplace on the upper landing, the knitting needles click-clacking in my hands. The cozy warmth of the fire glows against the snow outside, and I’ve almost finished what I’m making. It’s a deep crimson color, and I can’t help but smile at the thought of what it will be.

It’s peaceful here, despite the snowstorm still raging outside–with the wind battering against the walls of windows and the snow continuously falling in thick waves. Too peaceful, considering we’ve got a tied-up hostage a few rooms over currently being interrogated by the three dangerous, yet irresistible, men that have wormed their way into my heart. But you know what? I like to think of myself as aglass-half-fullkind of girl.

Just as I’m getting into the groove of a new row, I hear footsteps behind me. I glance up, expecting to see Atlas coming to check on me for the twelfth time, but it’s Key. He’s got that familiar mischievous grin on his face, like he’s about to make some smart comment. There’s something else in his eyes today though, a seriousness I’m not used to seeing from him.

“What’s up?” I ask, keeping my tone light as I focus on my stitches.

Key stops short, his eyes locking on the knitting needles in my hands like he’s just discovered fire. His expression lights up, and I can almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Ohhh,” he breathes, pointing at the needle in my hand. “I’ve got an idea.”

I blink, my fingers stilling around the yarn. “An idea? Key, you’re not exactly giving me a lot of confidence here.”

He grins, that mischievous spark growing into a full-blown wildfire. “Sugar, can I borrow one of those knitting needles for a sec?”

“...Why?” My voice is wary. “You suddenly in the mood for a new hobby?”

Key steps closer, eyes never leaving the needle. “Nah, but I just realized...that could be really useful right about now.”

I squint at him, fully aware I should probably stop this before it goes any further, but I can’t help but be curious. “Useful for what exactly?”

His grin widens. “You know, for...encouragement.”

It takes a second for the meaning to click, and when it does, I groan. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope!” he says, bouncing on his heels like a kid at Christmas. “Come on, just let me borrow it for a minute. I promise I’ll bring it back good as new.”

I shake my head, but I’m already reaching for the needle, despite my better judgment. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Terrible? Nah,” he says with a wink. “It’s genius.”

I hand over the knitting needle, still feeling like this is going to end in some kind of disaster. Key takes it with a flourish, waving it around like a sword before giving me a mock salute.

“I’ll be right back!” he says and, with that, he disappears into the next room.

I sit there for a second, my hands suddenly very still in my lap. Should I...be concerned? Nah. He’ll give it back when he’s done.

A few moments later, a blood-curdling scream pierces the air from the other room, followed by a muffled shout. I sigh and shake my head, going back to my knitting. Luckily, I have a billion needles to continue my work, like any knitter worth their salt does.

“Shhh, shhh, calm down,” I hear Key say, far too casually. “This’ll be over in a second.”

There’s a pause, followed by an even louder scream. I cringe, biting my lip and gripping my knitting a little too tightly. Why did I let him borrow the needle again?

A few minutes later, Key comes strolling back into the room, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He spins the knitting needle between his fingers, completely unfazed by whatever chaos he’s just caused, and drops it into my lap.

“All done,” he says, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “And look–it’s in perfect condition.”

I raise an eyebrow, inspecting the needle for any signs of blood. “You didn’t break it?”

“Nope,” he says with a wink. “Told you I’d take care of it.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the little smile that tugs at my lips. “I’m never giving you sharp objects again.”

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