Page 46 of Meet Me on Christmas Eve

He crossed his arms over his wide chest and smiled broadly. “That caramel and strawberry ice cream is the best.”

“That isnotpossible. You can’t prove something that’s … that’s false.” I crossed my arms too. “I should get home—”

“I can prove it, and I will. Come, Mariana.” He stood a little closer now, and I could see the fire in his beautiful eyes. “Please?”

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

The man saidplease.

I’m a lost cause.

Chapter 14

“It’s really quite beautiful, isn’t it? Fresh snow on Christmas Eve, some colorful Christmas lights …” He looked over at me, and I saw his teeth glimmering white as he smiled at me.

“And an actual Christmas tree farm,” I finished for him. Terry, as it turns out, lives on the tree farm. Literally. So I guess it makes sense that he sells and delivers them, though he said he actually has a couple employees. He’s an entrepreneur, apparently. I’m a little intrigued, though I don’t want to be.

He told me all this as we pulled into his long driveway. He convinced me to ride in his truck since he has four-wheel drive and it was snowing pretty heavily by that point.

“Very beautiful,” I agreed.

And it was. But inside, I was a mess.

A goddamn mess.

Whatwas I thinking going to hishouse? Atnight? And on thisholidaynight, of all nights?

There were only two ways this night could go, really. We were either going to sleep together or get into an epic argument about the past. Or both.

I wasn’t ready for either one.

No, correcting that: I didn’twanteither one.

But here I was.

“Shhh.” He gazed at me, having just turned off the car, now in his garage.

Confused, I raise my eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything, did I?” I unbuckled my seat belt. “In fact, it’s pretty dead quiet out here.”

He looked at me with a gentle smile, one I hadn’t seen from the grown-up Terry, well, ever. “I’m shushing the inner Mariana. The one who’s overthinking, who’s probably trying to come up with excuses to call a cab.”

I opened my mouth but then closed it, realizing I couldn’t dispute his claim. I sighed. “What is it with you and Hazel thinking you can just guess what I’m thinking at all times?”

He chuckled. “I’m nowhere near Hazel’s level. I don’t know what you’re thinking most of the time. But sometimes … well, sometimes I can tell. You show it, how you’re feeling. And I remember.”

I felt my breathing coming a bit faster after he said “I remember” but just rolled my eyes, trying to dismiss him. “Think what you want,” I grumbled.

“Oh, I plan on it,” he said, and I didn’t look at him, but I could hear the laughter in his voice. Instead, I focused on getting out of the car.

“We’ll probably have to put the ice cream in the freezer for a while, as it’s probably soupy by this point,” I pointed out as we got the groceries out of the car. “Unless … please tell me you’re not one of those people who like soupy ice cream. I’ll go home right this instant.”

Terry’s body shook with laughter as he set down a bag to open the door. “Ah, there’s the old Mariana. Fun, feisty … love it. No, I’m not a soupy ice cream fan.”

“Oh good,” I said, giving him a side eye and trying not to smile. “I was afraid you’d be one of those people who warms it up in the microwave.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What? Some people actually do that?” He laughed then as he held the door open for me. I walked through the door and then turned to him to respond. Before he shut the door though, he added, “I like it hard. Real hard.”

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