Page 62 of Here Comes Santa Paws

Roman licked his lips. “You’re playing with fire.”

I blinked innocently at him. “Let’s get this tree gussied up.” I began to unwind a ball of lights.

We wrapped the tree in soft white twinkle lights and a garland of large bone-shaped off-white beads Nancy had found on some holiday decor website full of everything under the sun.

“Time for ornaments.” I pulled out the first shoebox of ornaments and lifted the lid.

Roman reached for one and held it gently in his thick fingers. “Is this a pawprint of one of the shelter animals?”

“It is.” I moved to stand next to him. “Volunteers made salt dough and captured prints from as many animals as possible. The ones that wouldn’t be distressed by it, anyway. Nancy took them home to bake them in the oven to set, then brought them back today where they covered the prints with green or red glitter.”

Roman traced his thumb over Prancer’s name, which Nancy had hand-lettered in a gold paint pen. I flipped it over in his hand.

“Another volunteer made these labels with basic details about the animal the print belongs to. The QR code takes them to the adoption page on the shelter website.”

Roman’s closed-mouth smile I’d grown addicted to ticked up. “You’re brilliant.”

His praise made my cheeks burn. “My team is. I just know when to listen to good ideas.”

Roman’s attention turned to me. There was something unreadable in his eyes. “I’m impressed by you. Your ideas or your ability to say yes—it doesn’t matter. The shelter is in great hands with you.”

His intense gaze lingered on me for several more moments before he looked back at the ornament. He made a brief humming sound and then hung it on the tree.

We chatted and teased each other while we finished the tree. Decorating with Roman was way more fun than if I’d done it by myself. When the bags were empty, we stood back and took in the finished product. The glitter on the ornaments sparkled in the twinkle lights, and the tree topper capped off the vision perfectly. The tree was festive with a warm flair unique to our shelter and its mission.

I turned to Roman. “Can I thank you with some cocoa?”

“I can’t say no to cocoa.” Then he mumbled something that sounded a lot like, “Can’t say no to you either.”

ROMAN

Elias and I entered Jolly Java, which was bustling with coffee and cocoa drinkers. The stools along the bar running the length of the picture window were full, and a few people lined up at the coffee bar on one side of the café.

“This place is busy.”

“It is.” Elias caught my eye. “I’m glad we’re not boycotting it anymore. I missed it.” He took in the space as we joined the line. “It looks nice in here. Updated.”

“I thought the town was rioting over the changes.” After reviewing the specials board, my mouth salivated over the fresh pastries in the case.

Elias shrugged. “As far as I know, things have settled. It’s good to see the place lively again.”

He puckered his lips as he studied the available pastries. They begged to be kissed, but this wasn’t the time or place. Everyone knew Elias Rocha, and kissing him in a crowdedcoffee shop would send a statement I couldn’t back up in good conscience. Not when I had more news to tell him. My gut twisted over the conversation to come.

“Do you want to grab us a table while I get drinks? What do you want in your cocoa?”

“No cocoa for me, but the marzipan latte looks good.”

Elias stared at me like I’d said the Grinch had been on to something. “Blasphemy.”

“Found the limit to my acceptable level of Scroogeness, huh?” I couldn’t help my grin.

“But it’s acocoa social.”

My grin grew as I shrugged. “What? I like chocolate enough, but not in my drinks. And all those marshmallows get in the way.”

He studied me for a moment, then granted me a single nod. “Fair enough.”

With a shake of my head, I scanned the place for an open table and spotted one on the far side of the room.Elias’s table luck strikes again.

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