Page 12 of Their Christmas Miracle

Holly

“Gimme your number, I’ll send it to you.”

“What?” His voice sounds strangled. “No, delete it.”

“You’re embarrassed of me?” I throw him a shocked look.

Josh shakes his head, stammering in his effort to get out a denial. But before he manages this, our drinks arrive.

“Yeah, finally.” I sit forward, bumping knees with him.

He’s one of those guys that can take up an entire bench with the way they spread their legs. It’s always fascinated me when guys do that. I mean, don’t they feel self-conscious about their junk being exposed? I mean, I’ve never gotten the hang of crossing my legs — fuck knows, my mom tried for years and finally gave up — but I don’t exactly go around spreading them like a crack whore in need of a fix. But here he is, this quiet, unassuming guy, with his legs about as far apart as they can go.

The waiter puts our drinks on the table by our knees, giving me another confused glance. He obviously knows Josh, so I guess it’s quite a surprise to see me.

Or… is he surprised Josh isn’t here with his usual partner?

I give Josh a furtive glance from under my lashes. “Thanks for taking me out, by the by.”

Josh looks askance at me, for a moment seeming at a loss for words. Then he gives me a gracious nod, taking his eyes from me as he accepts a tumbler from the waiter.

“Sure your wife doesn’t mind you hanging out with another girl?”

That hand pauses.

Josh glances at me, startled.

And then the waiter — eyebrows reaching for the sky — mumbles something about checking on my fries and hurries away.

“Whoops.” I say this into my beer, trying — and failing — to hide my grin.

Josh, on the other hand, runs a hand over his perfectly coiffed hair and manages a disarming smile my way.

“I, uh… I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Oh.” I can’t stop the disappointment in my voice. Damn. So much for that, then. I point at the tequila, exchanging my beer glass for the other shot.

“That one’s yours.”

“Oh, I—”

“I’m sorry, Josh,” I interrupt, my voice comical with faux-surprise. “Were you planning on going back to work and putting in another few hours this fine Christmas Eve?”

There’s a long silence after that. I squirm inwardly, wanting to break our frank eye contact, but I don’t want to give Josh even that small triumph. But he’s just staring at me until I can’t take it anymore.

I look away and down my drink.

He’ll pay for this.

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