Page 38 of The Grump

“And then I wanted to talk to you, but you were gone by the time I rejoined the group.”

“It felt like I was intruding once the guests left.”

“You were not intruding,” I said, touching her cheeks with my fingers. I was dying to taste her lips again.

“Do you mind moving out of the way? We want to take pictures with Mr. Bingle too,” a guy said.

I looked right at him, preparing to tell him to mind his own business, but he was with his wife and three kids. So instead, I took Bailey’s free hand and pulled her out of the way until we were quite a distance from Mr. Bingle.

“Do you have time to talk now?” I asked.

“Can we walk and talk?”

“Sure. What do you want to do?”

“We can walk through Carousel Park.”

“Walk, not drive?” I double-checked.

“It’s just two and a half miles.”

“Precisely, and then we have to come back to the car.”

I took in her pink cheeks, the way she kept moving from one foot to the other. Despite the hot chocolate, she wasn’t warm. Moving was a good idea.

“You do the walk every year?” I asked her.

“Of course. Don’t you?”

“I haven’t done it in years.”

She gasped. “No way. You don’t come to see the lights? But they’re so beautiful. For me, they symbolize everything that’s good about Christmas.”

“You can be my guide.”

“With pleasure.”

“You want another hot chocolate?” I offered.

She hesitated. “No, there aren’t too many toilets on the way.” Then she dropped her head back and sighed in desperation. “Ah, why did I tell you that? I’m not really good at making a sexy impression.”

I laughed. “Bailey, it’s an important, natural observation. Besides, you’re so damn sexy that I’m having a really tough time staying here with you.”

“As opposed to what?”

“Going in a dark corner, preferably somewhere warm, and finishing what we started last night.”

“Xander,” she murmured. “God, the things you say. I wouldn’t have penned you for a dirty talker, what with your suits and cuff links.”

“I have far more surprises in store,” I assured her. Even though it was dark and the light only shone on half her face, I knew she was turning red.

“Let’s get moving,” she said, “because I’m really starting to get cold. Should’ve worn my UGG boots.”

“What’s that?” I asked her.

“Ah, some boots with a lot of fur on them. I actually think it’s fake fur. Doesn’t even matter. They keep me warm, but they’re not really a thing around here because it doesn’t get that cold, does it?”

“Except for tonight.”

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