Page 59 of UnLucky Christmas
“His name is Dasher,” I tell him. “Named after one of Santa’s reindeer.”
Grant snorts. “Why does that not surprise me?”
“No judging,” I say pointedly.
“No promises,” he says, a smirk appearing on his face.
I fold my arms and raise my eyebrows. “Oh, so this is how we’re starting the night?”
He places Dasher on the floor and moves toward me.
“I guess so,” he says. “I’m still waiting for you to kiss me.”
I scoff. “Well, maybe I’m not going to kiss you.”
He frowns as I lift my chin defiantly.
“That would be a shame,” he says softly, placing his hands on my shoulders. He runs his hands up and down my arms.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thanks. Did you think I’d be wearing an Ugly Christmas Sweater from my collection?”
He lets out a deep chuckle. “It crossed my mind.”
I want to kiss him so badly I can hardly stand it, but I continue to resist because I want him to initiate it.
“How about a tour before we head to dinner?” he asks, his gaze lingering on my lips. “We have reservations in a half hour.”
“Oh, yes a tour.”
He follows me around as I take him through my apartment ending in my bedroom.
“It’s exactly how I envisioned your home would look,” he tells me.
“Oh really, what were you expecting.”
“Warm, comfortable, cute, and Christmas-y.”
I giggle. “That sounds about right.”
“Well, you’re cute, so I figured your place would be.”
I give him a curious look. “Are you referring to my height?”
He shrugs. “Your height is definitely cute.”
“How tall are you exactly?” I ask.
“Six four.”
I bite my lower lip. “And I’m only five four.”
He sizes me up. “Is that why you’re wearing the high boots?”
“Yes.”
“Works for me,” he replies. “They look amazing.”
