Page 19 of Christmas Wishes

Keaton startled at my voice and pressed his hand to his chest. “You scared the shit out of me.” He studied me for a moment. “Jesus, you look exhausted. Your bags have bags.”

“Kind of you to notice,” I said dryly.

“Sorry. No filter.” He shrugged. “Do you always work such long days?”

“Festival keeps me busy.”Why am I still standing here? Get food and get to bed.

Keaton placed his phone on his lap and shifted so his feet were on the seat in front of him with his knees in the air. He wrapped his arms around his knees. “What’s the festival about? I saw a poster about it in the coffee shop.”

“Lights Up Juniper Ridge is basically a massive circle jerk about who has the biggest and best light displays.”

Keaton grinned. “Kinky. How does that keep you busy? Do you build the light displays?”

I leaned against the archway at the living room entrance and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m an electrician.”

“Oooh. Do people call you to consult on their lights?”

“That requires planning.” I gave a wry smile. “I usually get the emergency calls when someone tries to Griswold their grid and starts getting flickering lights or an alarming smell. People have a tendency to wait until the last minute.” I probably sounded like an ungrateful dick. People’s lack of planning kept the company going, so I was happy to do it, but I reserved the right to grumble along the way.

Keaton scrunched his face. “That’s annoying.”

“You’re telling me. At least it pays the bills.” I caught myself before I said more. It was easy to talk to Keaton. Too easy.Or I’m a lonely prick taking advantage of the kindness of my guest.

“Hungry?”

My stomach growled on cue.

A mischievous glint sparked in Keaton’s eyes. “There’s chili and cornbread in the fridge.”

“Is that what smells so good?” My stomach growled again.

“Relax. I’ll warm up some for you.” He rose from the chair.

I straightened from the wall. “You’re the guest. You don’t need to feed me.”

He put his hand on my shoulder and turned me, then forcibly pushed me toward the kitchen. “I don’t mind. My roommate and I do this for each other when one of us has an extra-long day. It’s no big deal, and it’ll distract me from my failure today.” He pointed at the breakfast table and gave me a look that said he wasn’t going to take my shit.

I sat.

It’d been a while since someone had taken care of me without it being a fight. I couldn’t even remember that point in my last relationship. Good thing we never got married. Most days, I couldn’t remember what drew us together in the first place since everything was overshadowed by how unhappy we were at the end.

Keaton would only be here for a week. I didn’t dare get used to this kind of treatment, but a simple dinner offer reminded me of what I’d been missing. Why was it so difficult to find someone who could be happy in Juniper Ridge? Someone who enjoyed a quieter, small-town life with simple pleasures and kind people who cared about each other? I didn’t understand the appeal of urban life.

Keaton pulled food from the fridge and began dishing it up. I felt like a lump watching him do it, but he hummed happily. While the food was heated in the microwave, he brought me silverware and a glass of water.

“You mentioned something about failing?” I wasn’t sure why I was initiating a conversation. After all the small talk today, I didn’t want to suffer through more of it.

Keaton tossed a self-deprecating smile my way before pulling the plate from the microwave. He carried it over and placed it in front of me.

He sat across from me. “It’s silly. A wannabe influencer struggling to make content. How millennial of me.”

I spread butter and honey on the cornbread. “It’s not silly if it’s something you’re interested in. I’m a better listener than talker if you want to talk about it.” I could relate to a crisis of career conscience.

He smiled warmly, but there was an underlying heat to it. “I can see that. I bet people tell you lots of things while you’re working.”

“You’re not wrong.” I figured people felt some level of intimacy having me in their homes.

I filled my mouth with a heaping spoonful of the thick chili and hoped I didn’t have to talk again. I moaned at the flavor.

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