Page 3 of Kiss Me at Christmas
“What about you?” she asked. “Are you a Grinch or a Saint Nick Nut?”
“Are those my only choices?”
“You can add your own.”
He pondered for a moment and then said, “I would describe myself as middlingly merry. I like the festive esthetic; I like the way the decorations bring light to anotherwise dark month. And I like that I get time off work. I would say that up to now I’ve been happy to take advantage of Christmas while not fully partaking.” He paused, as though wondering whether to continue. Seriousness fell like a shadow across his face. “But there have been recent unexpected developments in my life that have made me wonder what I might have missed…what I might have found if things had been different.”
Even through her haze she could feel his regret, see the longing in his eyes and the drop of his shoulders. She could taste it on him, and it had the same bitter tang as her own.
“Regret is the ultimate party pooper.” She heard the weariness in her voice. “Its mission in life is to constantly suck you backward into the past, where it forces you to replay all your mistakes on a loop. The only way is forward; you’ve just got to keep on trying to outrun it, my friend.” She smiled lopsidedly and took another drink.
“Spoken like someone who knows,” he said. “Have you tried vaccinating against regret?”
“I get my yearly booster shot and live in hopes that one day it will take.”I am so much wittier when I’m drunk. I wonder if there’s a way to carry this forward into sobriety.
He nodded as though he understood. “Sorry.” He shook himself. “This got deep all of a sudden, didn’t it?”
“I think we’re working through the many stages of drunkenness.” She smiled.
“What’s the next stage?” His eyes had become darker; they glinted with something enticing.
She took a breath and let her eyes drop to his lips, twisted up at the edges in a devilish smile. A dark line of stubble ran along his jaw.
“Dubious decision-making,” she answered, licking her own lips.
His smile widened into a full grin as he raised his mug, and Harriet was all in.
“I propose that in the interests of doing justice to this fine evening of commiserbrating, and vaccinating against negative emotions, we continue to drink hot wine until we can think of something better to do.”
This time his eyebrow lifted so suggestively that Harriet had to bite her lip to stop herself from biting his. He clocked it straightaway and grinned wider still.
“When you say ‘somethingbetterto do,’ do you have anything specific in mind?” she asked, leaning toward him, so that he could smell her perfume and get a better view of her chest. This was most unlike her; the alcohol had released her inner vamp, and she’d be lying if she said her own brazenness wasn’t acting as an aphrodisiac. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and she felt powerful.
He cocked his head and regarded her, smiling wickedly.
“One or two things,” he said enigmatically, bending his body and sliding his arm along the bar to move even closer to her. “But I’m open to suggestions.”
The sounds of bad karaoke faded to black and the other patrons in the bar melted out of her consciousness, leaving only the two of them in sharp focus.
Oh my god, this is so sexy!Her heart was pinging around in her chest. His hand was on the bar next to hers, their fingers not quite touching, and she could swear she felt static zinging in the sliver of space between. She needed to keep up the appearance that she was a temptress.What would Kristin Scott Thomas do?
She looked up, blinking slowly to show her nonchalance, and fixed him with her eyes.
“I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can come up with something to satisfy us both,” she purred.
She watched his pupils dilate and wanted to moan with pleasure. Who or what had taken possession of her this evening? In her head Sean Connery’s voice whispered,The name’s Wine. Mulled Wine.Her fourth mug had gone down a treat, settling around her shoulders like a velvet shrug and softening her bones. She smiled at him and felt a warm pleasure as he looked hungrily at her mouth before he raised his eyes to hers again. He leaned in close.
“I’m James, by the way.”
His voice rumbled through her body like a train she was running to catch.
“Harriet,” she responded breathlessly.
With the barest of movements, she closed the gap and brushed his lips with hers.
“I am delighted to meet you, Harriet,” he whispered hoarsely.
She smiled as he crushed his mouth to hers. Stars collided behind her closed lids. A sweet tickling sensation began to build inside her as though she were on the slow climb to the top of a roller coaster. This was exactly what she needed tonight.
