Page 4 of HoHoHo for You

“I’m not sick, Sam. I’m anxious.”

“I know. So, how are you?”

I almost rolled my eyes. “Anxious.”

He gave me a look that said I wasn’t funny and folded the corner of my book page to keep the place, then set it on the coffee table next to the couch.

I eyed the book with my brows up. “Half the Booktok community just screamed at you, I hope you know that.”

“I’m good at making women scream,” he quipped.

I snorted, but I didn’t smile.

Sam stared down at me for a second, folding his arms. “Okay, so this was supposed to be a fun thing, but I can see you aren’t in the mood. So, instead of trying to make you smile, I’m just going to say… I need you to sit here with no distractions for a few minutes and wait for me to come back.”

“Come back from where?”

“From… well, you’ll see. But it won’t take long and I want your full attention when I get back. Okay?”

“What for?” I tried not to be a grumpy asshole, but I wasn’t succeeding.

He leaned down, planting his hands on either side of me and leaning right into my face. He smelled like cedar and something minty and my tummy fluttered. I reached for his cheek that was stubbled because he hadn’t shaved this morning, but he caught my hand and made me meet his eyes.

“You’re miserable,” he said bluntly.

“And you’re psychic?” I shot back.

His lips thinned. He’d told me more than once that sarcastic Bridget was his least-favorite Bridget. Funnily enough, my Psychologist, Gerald had said the same thing.

“Bridge, we aren’t going to sit here for a month while you crawl out of your skin. We’re going to have some fun. I’m going toforceyou to have fun. I have a surprise for you.”

I tensed immediately. I’d been waiting for this. Sam was an amazing man, and he loved me. But he was a fixer. A man of action. He’d already taken steps in his quest to help me that wentwaytoo far at times. He was also a Christian and those people ate up Christmas like Sam ate me.Eagerly.

I leaned away from him. “Slow your roll. I know everyone at church loves this whole Christmas thing. But Ican’t,Sam. I just can’t.” My throat pinched and I swallowed it back.“Pleasedon’t try to make me like Christmas. I tried when I was younger. For real. It’s just—”

“Hey, hey, no. No, that’s not what we’re doing, babe. Not at all. Just breathe.”

“But—”

“I said we’re going to have fun. Not that we’re going to haveChristmasfun, Bridget. I wouldn’t force that on you.”

“But the church—”

He grimaced and shook his head. “People in the church love Christmas because it's a positive holiday about giving and they grew up with it. Jesus wasn’t born at Christmas time, Bridge. That’s just a tradition.”

“But—”

“Santa and noble pines aren’t anything to do with God. You and I don’t need that. So stop stressing. I get it. I want tohelp.I have something else for you. I need you to stay in here, not follow me, and wait.”

I slumped in the seat, but I believed him. He wouldn’t lie to me about this. “Okay,” I said reluctantly. “Fine. I’ll wait here.”

“Don’t follow me into the bedroom—I mean it.”

“I believe you.” I smiled, because I knew what he meant by that—he didn’t want me chasing him for sex. It hadn’t even been on my mind, but now it was, of course.

“Bridget, I know that look.”

“I won’t!” I said, putting my hands up and smiling more. “I give you my word. My butt will stay here in this seat, and I’ll wait for you to come back.”

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