Page 28 of Promise Yule Be Mine
I shrugged. "That's because you haven't seen my arts and crafts grade."
He chuckled. "Oh come on. You're a creative person yourself."
"I run a pub."
"Exactly. And you have to make decisions all the time, whether it's on displays, food and drink presentation, events or just putting on a smile even when you feel like shit."
There was no lie detected in that statement. There had been endless times when I wasn't feeling great, or was too sad or heartbroken to work and I'd still faked a smile and carried on.
A warmth spread from my chest. It tickled my skin like a feather and I found it impossible to look away from him once again.
I bet he could make a sick man feel healthy again with a few kind words and that gorgeous expression he wore so naturally.
"Th-thanks," I managed to say.
No one had ever called me creative and it wasn't something that had ever concerned me, but coming from him? It was the best compliment I'd ever received.
"Right, let's get this show on the road, Kody."
I smiled and tried to swallow the way him calling my name felt inside. As if I'd never heard it before until he’d spoken it. As if he’d broken a curse I hadn't known ailed me.
Fuck. I'm screwed, aren't I?
I'm a complete goner for my wedding planner.
Great!
10
NOVA
"Okay, I have to admit. I'm impressed with myself. Is that wrong to say?"
I flicked my gaze from the invitations on the table to him. The whole evening I'd been unable to look away, to breathe fully, to exist comfortably.
The wine had helped a bit, but it was as if a battle of wills was going on inside me. One that wanted to curl up next to him. To grab him by the neck and see what he tasted like. To card my fingers through his hair and succumb to his stare.
The other, the more reasonable one, had to be proper. He had to be professional. He had to remember who he was and what he was doing here.
I hated myself for feeling this way. For allowing this man to consume me so much that I forgot myself.
I'd never felt like that. I'd never been so completely overwhelmed by someone's…aura—was the only way I could explain it. Aura and charm—that I couldn't shake them off my mind.
Admittedly, it was twice as hard when we were in the same room, in the same space, sitting next to each other.
How had that happened?
The whole night I'd made sure to stay on the other side of him, to keep some sort of distance between us, a physical barrier that would save me from these feelings overwhelming my entire being, and yet here I was, sitting right next to him, so close if I dared move an inch I'd touch him.
"I told you you could do it," I said.
It was quite endearing, how little confidence he'd had in his artistic skills. Watching him start out with shaky hands, his eyes darting back and forth between my task and his as if he were afraid missing a step would lead to utter disaster, watching him get bolder and more comfortable until by the end he was doing better than me.
He reminded me of so many people I'd met over the years who believed any sort of artistic endeavor was innate and something you couldn't control. And yet he wasn’t like any of them.
The whole evening I wracked my brain to figure out what made him so special. What it was that attracted me so much to him because he wasn't the most handsome man in the world and even if he were that wasn't enough to make me so…wildly inappropriate around him.
The only things I could pin it down to was his eyes, his smile and his kindness. But even those weren't enough to explain it. There were countless men who were kind with beautiful eyes and beautiful smiles.
