Page 51 of Mistletoe Season
As she approached him, her smile almost dissolved into another laugh. He wore an impenetrable grin, which failed to match the rest of his pummeled self.
With great ceremony, he took his finger, wiped it alongside his face, and then licked the cream off. “I told you I like pie.” He shrugged a shoulder. “And it worked out well, didn’t it?”
“For The Wish, yes.” Her gaze skimmed down his front and back up as she tugged a towel off her shoulder. “For you? Not so much.”
“I have a pretty good track record of grand gestures to support charities. Well, in previous years. The past two haven’t been my best, but before then, I was often chosen to bring attention to things like this.” He gave his brows a playful wiggle. “And I don’t mind being ridiculous.”
“Clearly.” She took the towel, wiped it across his chin, then held it out to him for more cleanup.
“But this was good. It reminded me of those times.” His smile softened. He took the proffered towel and searched her face. “So, are we even now?”
Even? What?
“You got to hit me in the nose too.”
A large drop of cream took that opportunity to slide off his forehead and land on the end of his nose.
She looked heavenward, as if in thought. His request, his desire to make things right, somehow hitting her in the chest. With a deep breath, she glanced back at him. “Yeah, I think we’re even.”
“Good.” He pushed the towel across his face and into his hair.
“Eating that amount of humble pie should definitely earn some compassion points.”
Arran’s lips crooked. “We can be friends, then?” He offered his hand.
A friendship with a prince? She studied him a second and then sighed. “Sure.” She took his hand, ignoring the tightening in herstomach while giving a nonchalant shrug. “Who doesn’t want a royal friend to brag about now and again? Very make-believe.”
“As you are painfully aware, I am not the fairy-tale sort.” He stood up to his full height, tipping up his chin in regal fashion. “But I have every hope of restoring my fairy-tale potential.”
She rolled her eyes playfully as she turned and started walking toward the street. “Watch out, you’re in the mountains. We’re not impressed with princes here.” She looked over at him as he fell in step with her. “But folks who will suffer humiliation for a good cause? Well, those kinds of heroes are worth having around.”
“Good. I’ll aim for that one, then.” His expression softened with a gentler smile and he looked ahead. “So, tell me a little more about this Mistletoe Wish.”
***
Friends?
With a prince?
The idea sounded as preposterous as this list of items Ellie had sent her to purchase.
Teardrop earrings. Mary Jane pumps. Peplum-waist blouse.
Not to mention the makeup. Or undergarments.
A balconette? Her cheeks heated at the idea. What even was that?
And how on earth would a bra make a difference in Charlie’s presentation abilities?
Charlie stood in front of the largest department store in Ransom a few days later, fighting the desire to run back home and burrow deep into her baggy sweaters and worn-out jeans. The elegant crimson gown on display in the store window mocked her plight.
Impossible.
“You’d look fantastic in that gown.”
Charlie spun around to find Arran beside her staring at the window display.
“What?”
