Page 48 of The Night Before Grumpmas
Jacob McCallister. Standing there on the platform, holding a bouquet of poinsettias in one hand and a paper cup in the other.
My heart stutters. Of course, it does. Why does he have to look so damn good? The cold air makes his cheeks slightly flushed, and the sight of him, all tall and broody, waiting for me with flowers? It’s . . . swoon-worthy. There’s no denying that.
But then, reality sets in. I’m still mad. No, I’m furious. He’s standing here like everything’s fine, like he didn’t just get me evicted from my apartment. My mind is racing, torn between melting at the sight of him and remembering why I’m here in the first place.
I stop a few feet away from him, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to keep my heart from betraying me.
“Why are you here? In Maple Ridge?” I ask, my voice edged with disbelief, even though part of me—the very traitorous part—can’t help but soften. He’s here.
Jacob shifts awkwardly, holding out the poinsettias, his jaw tight. “Yeah. I figured I owed you more than just a phone call.”
I glance at the flowers, then back at him, my heart doing a ridiculous flip. Of course he brought flowers—Christmassy ones at that. “They’re . . . decoration flowers.”
“I know, Christmas is coming,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I thought you could use something to smother your parents with the spirit of the holidays, make them happy.”
That’s adorable, but I resist him. I won’t be listening to this nonsense.
“Why are you here?” I insist again, trying to keep the edge in my voice, even though he’s standing in front of me with that sincere look, making it difficult to stay mad.
“To beg you to forgive me for being such an idiot,” he says, the words tumbling out as he steps closer. “I wasn’t thinking straight . . . I let my anger take over, and now . . . I just want you to come home with me, please.”
The way he pleads for me to go back is adorable but I can’t and since it’s not up for discussion I deviate the conversation. “How did you know I was here? Or get here before me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
He shrugs, glancing away for a second before meeting my eyes again. “I spoke with your grandmother,” he admits, sheepishly. “She told me where you were. And helicopters are faster.” He gives a half-smile. “If you’d picked up my calls, I would’ve given you a ride or convinced you to stay home with me.”
“Home with you?” I snort. “I’m currently homeless, thanks to you.”
“I’m working on it,” Jacob says, his voice calm but determined. “But in the meantime, you can stay with me.”
“Nope,” I reply, shaking my head. “I don’t know you well enough to move in with you, even temporarily. This time was supposed to be for us to get to know each other, and I guess . . . it’s over.”
“It’s not over,” he insists, his tone a mix of frustration and pleading.
“Then how do you propose we work this out, Jacob?” I challenge, crossing my arms. “You’ll be in the city, I’ll be here, and we’ll never see each other again. That’s not exactly a great plan. It doesn’t scream romance, does it?”
His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, I forget to be mad. “We make it work,” he says firmly. “I’ll visit you, you’ll visit me in the city, and this whole thing is temporary while I fix my fuckup.”
I raise an eyebrow, trying not to let the softness in his voice get to me. “And how exactly are you going to fix it?”
He shrugs, a little sheepishly. “I’m working on it, trust me.”
“Trust you? After everything that happened today?” My skepticism is palpable.
“Yes.” The way he says it all bossy and sure of himself makes me wonder what he’s up to.
I sigh, still unsure, but the wall I’ve been building starts to crack just a little.
It must be all the encouragement Jacob needs. He steps even closer, his hand gently cradling my face, his thumb brushing softly against my cheek. And before I can second-guess myself, his lips are on mine.
The kiss is deep, warm, and slow, like he’s taking his time—making sure I feel every bit of the apology that he can’t put into words. His other hand moves to the small of my back, pulling me closer, and for a moment, I melt against him, all the tension and anger slipping away.
It’s the kind of kiss that erases time, where the rest of the world disappears. His lips are soft but firm, sending little sparks through my body, igniting something I’ve been holding back. My fingers slide into his hair, and I kiss him back with everything I’ve been feeling—frustration, longing, maybe even forgiveness.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jacob
I knowNoelle hasn’t exactly forgiven me yet. And I don’t blame her. I’m on probation—her words, not mine. Not that I’m complaining. I deserve it after what I like to call my biggest fuckup ever. I’ve done plenty of stupid things, sure, but this time, I messed with someone’s future. Her future.
