Page 83 of The Luminosity of Loriana Harper

He grinned. “Put me to work.”

And she did. They spent the next three hours preparing everything. Loriana could’ve done it on her own—had for the last fifteen or so years, in fact. Having company and an extra set of hands proved delightful, and as Christmas music played softly in the background, the rightness settled within her. Most years she’d done this alone—and she’d been perfectly fine with that. This was for the guests—often many of the single people in town. A chance to be a little less lonely during the holiday season.

This year, she’d decorated her home with Mitch’s help instead of Plato’s.

In the early years, the cat played with many of the decorations. As he matured, his thrill of getting into mischief waned.

He’s getting older.

So are you.

“Okay.” Mitch clapped his hands as he surveyed the spread on her dining room table. “I honestly think you can feed an army.”

“Well, they might feel like an army.”

His startled gaze met hers. “How many men did you invite?”

A knock on her door saved her from answering. She hustled over to find Marnie waiting. She ushered the younger woman in.

“Bean salad.” Marnie presented her with the dish. “You didn’t specify what kind of salad, and although this is often associated with summer, it’s much easier to eat and takes up less space on a plate than a Caesar or another leafy, green salad might.” Her furrowed brow eased slightly. “Hello, Mitch. Glad you’re here.” Truthfully, her relief was clearly palpable.

“As I promised I would be. May I take your coat?”

Loriana carried the salad over to the table while Mitch took Marnie’s coat, and she removed her boots.

“I know you don’t drink alcohol, but would you like something warm? Tea? Hot chocolate? Warmed eggnog?” Loriana grinned.

Marnie nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, please.”

Loriana laughed. “To which?”

“Any.”

“Well, my friend, you have to pick.”

Marnie smiled. “I’ll take the warmed eggnog.”

“Great, you have a seat while I prepare that. Mitch?”

Indecision warred on his face. He wasn’t a drinker either, but he enjoyed the odd beer.

“Your choice.”

“Warmed-up eggnog sounds perfect. Do you want me to put the coffee on?”

She snapped her fingers. “I knew I was forgetting something. But I didn’t want the smell to override the others.”

“Loriana, your house is a scent dream.”

Marnie’s green eyes shone with what Loriana chose to interpret as delight.

The young woman’s lips hadn’t curved up yet, but they hadn’t turned down either.

Loriana’d take that as a win. She made her way to the kitchen and organized the coffee while heating two mugs of eggnog and sprinkling nutmeg on top. When she returned to the living room, Plato nestled on Marnie’s lap, and Mitch sat next to her—but keeping a decorous distance.

While debating what comment to make, a knock on the door pulled Loriana from her musings.

Plato, having rightly determined that all the people he trusted were in that room, bolted, and Mitch rose and scooped up the cat’s cushions.

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