Page 42 of The Christmas Letters
I place a steadying hand on her arm. “I’ll look for the cat. You can load up the wrapping paper while I search.”
I don’t particularly like cats either, but I could use another minute away from Tess to clear my head.
I have to figure out who she is. If she’s…her. My pen pal.
Then I have to figure out what to do about it if she is.
Chapter Thirteen
Tess
“Ofallthestupid,idiotic things to have happen,” I mutter under my breath. I hoist another roll of wrapping paper into the back of Drew’s truck.
Of all the people to be spending time with.Drew!
I don’t even know what to think. It was a surprise to see him, but it was also a surprise tonotfeel awkward when I did. Maybe it was the conversation we had on the beach. Or maybe it’s just that I’m halfway to falling for Max, and he’s made it a lot easiernotto think about Drew.
But that moment in the truck, when Drew leaned close to help with my seat belt…the way he was messing up his words, like I was clearly having an impact on him.Was I impacting him?It would only be fair because he was liquifying my limbs just by looking at me.
But is that what I want?
I carry another load of wrapping paper to the back of the truck and settle it into the bed, irritated by how quickly my life went from relatively simple to completely ridiculous.
Yesterday, I was waiting for a letter from Max and adding the final details to my perfectly crafted toy drive plan.
Now, I’m scrambling to pick up the pieces of afailedplan, hanging out with DrewfreakingMcKay, and worrying about a lost cat that doesn’t even belong to me.
How, exactly, did Mrs. Greenly expect me to get the wrapping paper out of the garagewithoutletting the cat out? It’s not like cats have a solid track record of sitting and staying. At least not any cats I know.
It takes a few more trips, but soon, I have everything loaded and ready to go, so I turn toward the side yard where Drew went in search of the cat. Hopefully, he’s already found her and is on his way back to the garage by now.
Everything about the Greenlys’ property is enormous. The house. The garage. The football field of live oak trees stretching out in front of me. I step onto the grass and peer forward, but it’s hard to see much of anything in the dark.
I move toward the closest tree and pull out my phone to use as a flashlight, aiming it upward into the branches.
No cat, so I move to the next tree.
“Drew?” I whisper into the stillness. “Where are you?”
I don’t hear Drew, but I do hear ameow.I walk toward the sound, my steps slow and steady. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” I call softly. I approach another oak tree, this one twice as big as the last with a trunk as wide as my car, and tiptoe around it, my eyes on the branches overhead.
“Oof!” I bump into something solid, nearly falling backward onto my butt, but then arms snake around my waist, keeping me upright. My hands fly forward, dropping my phone before colliding with the very warm, very solid expanse of Drew’s chest.
I swallow and take a steadying breath. He smells good.So good.Manly and clean. Like fresh linen and Christmas trees. I love anything that smells like Christmas trees. I lean forward, immediately loving the feel of his arms around me and hating that I don’t have enough self-control to step away anyway.
Even if I understand his reasons for only wanting to be friends, I do havesomepride.
Drew’s arms tighten around my waist. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low.
“Yeah. I’m—” My hands slide down his chest, and his muscles twitch under my touch. I lift my gaze to his face. Moonlight glints off his features, catching in his eyes and highlighting the freckles across his cheekbones and the stubble lining his jaw.
I take a steadying breath.
There’s definitely been something magical about building a relationship with Max, responding to his letters, getting to know him in such an organic, simple way. And the air of mystery around him has kept things interesting and exciting.
But this is exciting in a different way. There’s nothing mysterious about the strength of Drew’s arms or the way it feels to have him look at me so intently. And there’s no mistaking how much I like it.
My eyes rove over his face. If I were to lean up the tiniest bit, I could press my lips to the smooth stretch of skin just below his ear.
