Page 69 of Mistletoe Misses
Me:Will any promises be fulfilled during this private lunch date? I want to ensure store coverage for an adequate amount of time.
Maddox:Might want to call in reinforcements.
Me:Mmm. I love a man who keeps his word.
I hit send quickly before I chicken out and erase the boundary-crossing comment. Several minutes slip by without a response, and I worry I’ve said too much.
Maddox:Good. Over the years, I promised myself I’d do a lot of things if I ever got the chance.
Me:Like what?
Maddox:I’d rather show you.
With anticipation clawing its way through me, I dip into the back storage room and let it out with a scream. Then, coolly, I type my response.
Me:Can’t wait.
Chapter 16
Maddox
For forty minutes, while our sandwiches grow cold and soggy, we make out on her couch like teenagers left alone in the house. We make great use of every minute and come up for air, surprisingly, with our clothes still on.
She’s lying on top of me during a rare break when a thought escapes my mouth. “It’s hard to believe we’re here.”
“Here in my apartment or together?” she asks with a giddy giggle.
“Together. I never thought I’d see the day.”
She props her chin on a hand to see me, a pretty smile brightening the room. “It’s good, right?”
“Yeah, it is. But, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.”
“Don’t say that.” All the joy and hope I saw in her seconds before dissipates into concern as she sits up. “I’m not ready for this—” she waves a hand between us “—to end.”
I adjust my position to sit beside her. “Me neither. I was referring to this private lunch, not us.” I mimic her hand waving. “It’s time we got back to work.”
A groan in protest that could be mistaken for another sound sends my head into a tailspin, especially when she climbs into my lap. Long, touchable legs straddle my hips as she squares off with me, her arms resting on my shoulders.
“Thank you for making my day special.” She lowers to press a tender kiss on my lips, careful not to ignite anything we can’t finish. “When can we do this again? How about you come back tonight and watch some Christmas movies with us?”
I glance over at the small pine tree in the corner by the window she set up earlier today, reminding me.
“I think Mom’s planning something for us tonight at our place.” The night of the parade, while we shared a piece of Nana’s maple cream pie, I mentioned how much I missed our tree decorating tradition. She got so excited she almost choked on a bite and snatched her glass of milk. Streams of milk trickled down her chin as she drank and cleared her throat. Watching her laugh and cough and spew milk was the cutest thing I’d seen since Sadie’s victory dance after our Rudolph cornhole match.
“How about tomorrow night, instead?” I suggest. “Aaron said something about a Santa Pub Crawl. Know anything about that?”
“Too well. It’s another Spectacular favorite. Not as popular as the Henderson Boys Kissing Booth but high ranking in the fun category.”
It’s my turn to groan. Since replacing my kissing memories with her lips, I don’t need any reminders of what I endured.
“What is a Santa Pub Crawl?”
“You dress up as Santa and visit all the participating bars in town. It’s a great revenue boost for local businesses. Each place will have a different holiday-themed bar activity going on.”
“Sounds like fun … except for the costume part.” An involuntary grimace of disapproval scrunches my face.
“Come on. No one can fulfill my sexy Santa fantasy but you.”
