Page 28 of A Christmas Mystery

“I told you before. I didn’t have any plans for the day anyway. And I’ve had a better time than I would have if you weren’t here.”

“Really?” I give him a quick, sidelong glance to check if he’s serious.

He appears to be. “Yes. Really. Do you have delusions about my having some sort of breathtaking social life?”

I can’t help but laugh at that. “Well, no. If you want to know the truth. I just always assumed...”

“That I don’t like you,” he finishes for me. “Yes. I’m starting to understand that.” He pauses. “It’s not true.”

“It’s not?” I wish my hair was loose so I could use it to hide my face. I’m feeling ridiculously self-conscious. Shy in a way I almost never am.

“No. It’s not true.”

We gaze at each other for another span of time that feels just a little too long.

I swallow and slide off my stool, picking up my dishes to bring them to the sink.

He does the same. We rinse off the dishes, load the dishwasher, and then return to the couch.

We sit in silence for a minute before he says, “We can watch another movie if you want.”

“Okay. That sounds good.” It does. Anything to fill the tense silence. Anything other than sliding over to him and kissing him, which is what I’m currently fighting the urge to do.

He finds another old mystery—one of a similar tone to the earlier one we watched—and I snuggle under the blanket, feeling full and warm and comfortable.

Strangely safe.

And like I’m not alone.

When the dryer buzzes, I retrieve my dress and hang it up so it won’t get wrinkled. But I don’t put it on yet. No use doing that until the movie is over.

During the second half of the movie, the food and the warmth start to make me sleepy. I make myself focus on the screen and not let my eyes drift shut.

I don’t succeed.

I fall asleep and must lean over on him in my sleep because when my eyelids flutter open the next time, I’m cuddled up under his arm, resting my head on the side of his chest. “What’s happ’ning?” I mumble.

“You were asleep,” Theo says, warm and soft and husky. “You don’t have to wake up yet if you don’t want.”

“Okay.” I’m sure reason and sense would speak louder in my head if I really didn’t like my current position. But I do like it. I love how it feels to recline against Theo this way. I love the feel of his arm around me. I love that I can feel the warmth of his body and the way his chest rises and falls with his breathing.

I don’t want to move, so I don’t. I burrow into him even more.

After that, I lose track of time. I do wake up briefly when Theo is shifting positions. He’s stretching out on the couch, fitting me against him and then pulling a soft throw blanket over both of us.

I don’t mind. I move with him willingly. After all, this way he can wrap both his arms around me, and I like that even more.

Maybe he’s sleepy too. Sleeping on the couch is a perfectly normal thing to do.

And at the moment it doesn’t matter that the two of us absolutely shouldn’t be doing it together.

So I go back to sleep in his arms, and it’s a long time before I wake up again.

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