Page 100 of Booked for the Holidays
We’re silent, our panting the only noise in the dark, deserted store. My fingers traverse from her hip up her back, kneading her muscles. They ripple under my touch and her spine arches.
“You okay?” I ask.
Bridget nods and sniffs. Gently, I slip out of her and wince at the loss of contact. She spins and looks up at me, sated and satisfied. A smile is on her face.
“Okay,” she says. Her voice is low and raspy. “Besides Mac being born, because I know she takes the top spot… where does this fall on your list of best Christmases?”
The flickering lights from the multiple trees behind us give her skin a pretty glow. Her hair is a mess and there’s a tear hanging on the end of her nose.
My palm cradles her face, thumb brushing over her cheek, down to her jaw. “It’s the best one. By a long shot.”
THIRTY-NINE
BRIDGET
Sunday ismy favorite day of the week.
I make pancakes for lunch, savoring the sweetness of the syrup I bought at the local farmer’s market. I pull a new romance novel off my shelf and wrap a blanket around myself. I prop my feet up on the couch, Ziggy curled up beside me, content to spend the rest of my day turning pages of a new favorite book.
With only ten days until Christmas, everyone is starting to become frantic. Traffic on the avenue comes to a standstill multiple times a day. Parking spaces are limited, the sidewalk is overcrowded, and we can’t get any decorating done because of the frequency of patrons filing in and out of the store.
It’s been chaotic.
I’m glad to be away from the hustle and bustle today, a steaming cup of hot chocolate waiting for me on the end table in my living. The tree I set up weeks ago twinkles in the overcast light. Presents for friends and family members sit on the skirt embellished with candy canes and snowmen. A candle is burning on my entertainment center, a festive scent of balsam and vanilla.
I settle back onto the cushions of the couch, draping a crocheted blanket over my legs. I tuck my feet under me, opening my book to the first page.
Barely two lines in, my phone buzzes next to me. I pluck the device off the leather arm beside me, frowning when I see Theo’s name.
“Theo?” I answer. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” His voice is deep and confused on the other side. “What would be wrong?”
“I don’t know, you tell me. You’re the one calling.”
“That’s generally what people do when they want to communicate with someone, Bridget.”
“Yeah, maybe if they’re in their eighties or something. A text isn’t sufficient?”
“I’m driving right now. Safety first. I wanted to see if you were busy.”
“I just sat down to read, but I’m not busy, no. Why? What’s up?”
“I’m taking Mac to the mall so she can do some shopping. She asked if you could come. Then she berated me and said you aren’t allowed to babysit her when I go out with another woman again. Anyway, I don’t want to take up your day off or anything, but I—”
“I’d love to join,” I say with a smile. “When are you going?”
“We can grab you in an hour.
“Sounds good. I’ll be ready.”
* * *
“BB!I’m so glad you could join us.” Mac greets me as I take the front seat in the truck an hour later.
“Hey, kiddo. Thanks for inviting me.” I look over at Theo. His eyes are on the road as he shifts the car to drive, but he’s wearing a smile. Arealsmile.
“Hey,” he says.
