Page 54 of Meet Me on Christmas Eve

I swallowed with more effort than usual. It was hard to form words, so I just nodded.

Where do we go from here?

Or maybe … we don’t go anywhere? I shouldn’t presume that tonight’s revelations change anything. It was a long time ago, and surely he had gotten over me long ago.

But you had that epic kiss…

Eh, so maybe he was attracted to me in that moment, but we were arguing too … he still doesn’t even like me. Probably.

“I can see the wheels turning, Mariana,” he said, looking at me steadily.

My eyes shifted to his from where they had wandered to the window. “Ah, sorry. Overactive brain, you know me.”

A pensive expression claimed his face. “I’m not sure I do. You’ve changed in some ways … but not in others. I’m not sure I know you that well anymore.”

Once again I was thankful for the dim lighting because I knew my face was on fire at that moment. “Right, you’re right,” I said, looking down into my lap. How utterly mortifying. He couldn’t possibly still be in love with me if he felt like he didn’t even know me anymore. I couldn’t be the old Mariana anymore, the one he had loved—I’d left her behind. Though every day, more and more, I wondered whether I was neither Mariana LaBelle nor Mariana Grant anymore … I didn’t seem to fit anywhere. And why was I thinking about this anyway? It’s not like I wanted him to be in love with me … did I? I closed my eyes, trying to shut out all the thoughts.

He looked concerned. “I didn’t mean it like that, Mari—”

I forced a smile on my face, one of the most painful ones I’d ever pasted on, which was saying a lot considering I was in the hospitality industry. “I get it, Terry.” I moved to sit on the edge of the seat then, as though to rise soon. “So, I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. Do you have a blanket I could use on the couch?”

“Mariana,” he said so slowly that I had to turn and look at him. “Don’t run away. We should talk.”

I made a loud fake yawn. “I really am tired, Terry. Sorry, can we talk another time?” When he didn’t answer, I stood up and looked down at him. “I’ll figure out the sleep stuff so you don’t have to bother. Shouldn’t be too hard to find a blanket somewhere.” I gave him a polite smile and turned to leave.

I’d only taken three steps when his heavy hand fell on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. I sighed and pivoted to face him. “Yes?”

He looked at me silently for so long that I almost turned around and left, but just before I gave up waiting, he spoke quietly. “I’ll help you get comfortable.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Thanks.”

“I could take the couch if you want to sleep in my room,” he said, his eyes darker than ever in the dim light. “But knowing you, you’ll stubbornly insist on the couch.”

I pursed my lips. “I’m notstubborn. But yes, I’m perfectly fine on the couch. If you’ll just help me find a blanket, I can use one of the throw pillows.” I spun on my heel then and left him standing there, but I could still hear his loud sigh behind me.

Chapter 16

The next morning, as I slowly opened my eyes, all I could see through my lashes was red and gold. I closed my eyes, realizing I must still be asleep, in some fanciful dream.

Music. A song with … bells.

The smells—oh, the smells.

Peppermint, gingerbread, fire.

Shit,fire?

My eyes flew open, and I threw off the covers as I frantically rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

Oh. A fireplace.

Not danger.

I exhaled heavily and fell back down into the cushions, taking the blanket with me. Someone had started a fire. It was cozy and warm. No big—

Wait, what? Someone … who—where—oh crap, I’m at Terry’s house.

My eyes were wide open now and racing around the room, or what I could see of it from my frozen position on the couch.

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