Page 65 of Mistletoe Kisses

I began strumming and humming along to the song Reed had asked me to perform for his proposal. When the time came to sing the words, my stomach sank. I wasn’t sure I could do it. Time and again, that stage had betrayed me. I was asking for more punishment if I went back to try again. But if I didn’t, I’d regret it forever. Warren was more than my brother. He was my best friend, and I would be angry at myself for not doing whatever I could to make his moment as special as possible. He deserved it.

He doesn’t deserve me ruining his proposal by creating another scene.

Knowing Warren, he’d probably love it if something happened. It would add to the story of his proposal.“And then my brother sang, and it triggered an earthquake. Can you believe it?”

The front door opened unexpectedly, and Arlo came in smiling and holding two coffees. The stress melted away at the sight of him.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on your way to the coast.”

His cheeks pinkened. “I wanted to bring you a coffee before I went.”

“Missed me too, huh?”

He bit his lip and nodded before an even sweeter smile broke free.

“You look happy. Good time at the coffee shop?”

“I talked to Dave for a bit. He’s so cool. Did you know he started an amateur drag show for Pride each year?” He gave his head a bashful shake. “Of course you do. You live here.”

I grinned at him as he passed me a coffee before sitting next to me. Seeing him so comfortable in my space continued to tug at my heart.

I sniffed the cup.

“It’s a peppermint mocha with extra white chocolate shavings.”

I leaned forward and kissed him. “Just how I like it. Thank you.”

Arlo eyed the guitar on my lap. “Am I interrupting your playing time?”

“Nope. I was just messing around with the song Reed wants me to perform.” Even saying the word “perform” aloud made me nauseous.

“How is that going?”

“Fine. I’ve sung it plenty of times.”

He scooted closer. “I mean, how are you feeling about it?”

I took a swig of the deliciously sweet coffee with the perfect amount of peppermint zing. “Like I want to flee to South America and change my name. I’m setting myself up to be mortified again.”

“Maybe it’ll be different this year.”

I scoffed. “I told myself that each year, and it never was.”

“Would it help if you played for an audience of one?”

I grinned at the sneaky little devil. “Are you trying to get me to play for you?”

Arlo twisted his lips to the side and shrugged. “It’s a pleasant side effect of my perfectly reasonable suggestion.”

I kissed his nose. “It couldn’t hurt to test the waters.”

I started the song from the beginning and played the opening a few times to find my groove, and then I began to sing the first verse. Arlo immediately softened like putty in my hands as he leaned toward me. After the second chorus, he even began quietly singing along. Almost too quiet to hear. I wanted to hear more but didn’t dare draw attention to it for fear that he’d stop.

When I finished, I moved on to another song, then another. Arlo quietly sang along with the classic Christmas tunes. Eventually, I strummed a few chords before laying the guitar over our laps. We fell into silence until Arlo was the one to break it.

“Your voice is incredible.”

His praise warmed me.

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