Page 35 of The Mistletoe Trap
“If there’s anything we should be complaining about, it’s the giant shoes. They’re so hard to move in.”
“Mine fit me perfectly,” he shot back. Then he leaned in nice and close and lowered his voice. “You know what they say. Big feet, big co—” Last second, he remembered kids were nearby, and while they probably couldn’t hear, better safe than sorry.
Julie’s eyes dipped to his crotch, same way they’d done last night when they’d been in the hot springs and he’d made the joke about his distracting muscles.
“Candy cane,” he finished, the sense of smugness roiling inside him echoing through the words. He figured turnabout was fair play, since he couldn’t stop checking her out in her costume, either. At least he wasn’t alone in the slight tug of attraction he’d later deny to even himself. Really, they were just taking time to celebrate the season of gratitude and giving and shit.
For instance, he was grateful for the benefits of being tall, and how it provided a nice glimpse of her cleavage.
“Joke’s on you, I’m more of a balls of holly girl,” she said, her forehead crinkling immediately after. “I don’t think that one worked. Also, why does the song talk about balls of holly? That’s weird.”
It took him a few seconds to follow her windy train of thought. “It’s boughs of holly.”
“Are you sure? I always thought it was balls.”
“Which makes more sense?”
She tipped her head one way and then the other, and her nose crinkled in an adorable way that he couldn’t believe he’d never noticed before.
“Are you two ready?” Mrs. Trombone asked, and they jumped apart like two kids who’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t—too true, actually. Still, he hadn’t been the only one doing the ogling. “The children are getting restless. This is why it’s important to arrive to places on time. I see it’s something both of you haven’t quite mastered, even all these years later.”
“Oh yeah,” Julie whispered. “I forgot why she hated us so much. That was the year we went off campus for lunch and you would never leave in enough time to get back.”
“Thanks for throwing me under Santa’s sleigh,” Gavin whispered as he passed by, and he went ahead and dragged his hand across her lower back.
She batted her big blue eyes at him. “Hey, what are friends for?”
A rhetorical question, but the answer certainly didn’t entail sweeping her into his arms later, carrying her off like she was his elfin prisoner, and showing her that he could be the gift that could keep on giving.
For the next few days anyway.
Chapter Twelve
The last hour and a half had flown by. The slight lull gave Julie a few minutes to stand back and watch Gavin interact with the group of boys who were asking the town’s famous football star what it was like to play in the NFL.
He’d signed countless footballs as they’d handed out toys to children of all ages.
“…ask her,” Gavin said, and several sets of eyes pivoted to her.
“What are we asking?” Hopefully not how many times she’d replayed that moment from before the madness started when he’d dragged his large hand across her lower back. Heat whorled each and every time she thought of it, generating enough warmth that she could probably step outside without a coat right now and be totally fine.
“I was telling them how I used to be a scrawny kid who struggled to throw a ball across my backyard.”
Julie moved closer to the group and braced her hands on her knees so she could talk to them on their level. “At one point, I could throw farther than he could.”
The spot between Gavin’s eyebrows crinkled into furrows of doubt. “I’m not sure about that, but—”
She shoved his arm and said, “Let me have this,” and the boys grinned. She’d always enjoyed watching Gavin around younger kids. He was so patient and kind, and each time he’d leaned over the table to show one of the children how to hold the football and doled out tips on passing, her heart pitter-pattered.
Considering that each and every time tested the seams of his beyond-snug elf costume, she’d also stifled a lot of laughter.
Once the boys moved on, Julie patted Gavin’s shoulder. Then she froze, double checking it was his good shoulder—she needed to be careful about that. “I’ve got to run to the bathroom. Will you be okay holding down the fort?”
“I think I can manage. If you hurry.”
The oddest urge to tip onto her toes and kiss his cheek hit her, and so she wouldn’t give in and do something that would make him wonder about her mental state, she rushed in the direction of the bathroom.
On her way back to the table, she spotted Kory in the crowd.
