Page 17 of Caught in a Christmas Conundrum

“What did you want?” she asks again. “Surely you had something in mind. You seemed so sure when you said you wanted me to meet you here.”

“I guess at the time I was thinking that it always seemed like you and I were at odds, when, in reality, I had a crush on you. But the last time I admitted that, you ran away.” I know my words are a little rushed. I don’t want her to think I am admitting it again and have her run again.

“I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I told you that it was just a lot to process.”

“Have you had time to process it yet?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound impatient. I am feeling a little bit that way, but I don’t want to rush her if that’s not what she wants.

“I have,” she says, and she looks like she knows something I don’t. But the smugness in her expression makes me a little bit suspicious.

“And?” I say, cautiously, because I’m not sure exactly what that look means.

“And I chose an apron tonight with a message for you.”

Maybe that’s why she stopped so close to me, so I couldn’t read her apron. My eyes were caught on her face as she walked toward me, and I never even thought about her apron.

I step back a bit as she takes a step backward as well.

My eyes go to her apron, and I see that it says,I kiss better than I cook.

My brows go up. Is she saying what I think she’s saying?

Is she saying what Iwanther to say?

Her eyes drop to my apron. This is the first time that I’ve ever worn this apron. When I got it as a gift a couple of years ago, I determined that I wasn’t going to wear it until I found someone to whom I could say it honestly and mean it.

It says,kiss the cook.

As she reads it, her face breaks out into a huge grin. “I think our minds are going in the same direction this evening.”

“There seems to be a lot of kissing in both of our thoughts,” I say, hoping I’m right.

She nods as she walks forward slowly, and this time, I don’t fight the urge to put my hand around her shoulders and bring her closer. I bury my fingers in her hair and wish that I wasn’t holding hot chocolate in my other hand.

“So does that mean there’s kissing on the agenda tonight?”

“I’m not paying for your cooking services with kisses,” she says.

“The services are free, but I would like a date. It doesn’t have to be in exchange for anything, just because I like you, a lot.”

“Wasn’t today a date?” she asks, tilting her head.

I hadn’t even thought about it like that, but I had more fun with Kate today than I have had on a date ever, and that’s the truth.

“I suppose you’re right. Although, none of my dates have ever been that much fun.”

She laughs, and then she nods and says, “I can say the exact same thing. And usually, there’s kissing at the end of the dates, but we just said that we would see each other later.”

“We can make up for lost time,” I suggest helpfully or, maybe, hopefully.

Her smile gets bigger if that’s possible, and she steps closer as she presses herself against me, putting her free arm around my neck, running her hand around the back of my head, and tugging it down.

I can only assume that this means that she does want me to kiss her, and I am only too happy to oblige. I’ve been thinking about this for years and been thinking about her as well. We fit together just as well as I thought we would, and I feel like there’s a pretty good future ahead for us. But I’m not thinking about the future right now, I’m thinking about pressing my lips to hers, hearing her sigh, feeling her heart beat hard against my chest, and wishing that the night, or the kiss, would never end.

I know we are both reluctant as we separate and look deep into each other’s eyes.

“The statement on your apron is one-hundred-percent true, and I already thought you were the best cook I’ve ever met.” My words are a little bit breathless, but they come from my soul, and they’re absolutely the most honest thing I’ve said all day.

My words make her smile, and she looks at me with such admiration and humor in her gaze that I want to lower my head and kiss her again.

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