Page 108 of Booked for the Holidays
I smile as I fill two Styrofoam cups with the scalding beverage. Steam rises into the air, warming my nose and fogging Theo’s glasses.
“Cheers,” I say.
“I think we’re ready for the judging. The stores look fantastic, Bridget. You’ve worked so hard.”
“We’ve worked so hard,” I correct him. “Everyone has been amazing. It’s too late to change anything, but I’m feeling good about what we have. It feels special, you know?”
“I’m so proud of you.”
He kisses my cheek then, and I don’t care that we’re around our employees. I don’t care that strands of my hair get caught in my mouth and cover my eyes as we hug the shoreline of Lake Vifrgina, a rousing round of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” ringing out for all to hear. I don’t care that Theo isn’t wearing a Santa hat.
When I join in, singing off key at the top of my lungs, nose red from the cold and cheeks flushed with happiness, I don’t care about that, either.
Because I’m falling in love with someone who brings me the kind of hot chocolate I like. A man who tells me he’s proud of me and acknowledges my efforts. A man who pulls out his cell phone, shyly asks if he can take a photo with me, and blushes when I say yes. We grin from ear to ear, a chocolate mustache coating Theo’s top lip.
A man who sees me,allof me, and still leans close, squeezes my knee twice and whispers, “Stay the night with me?”
Yeah.
I’m head over heels for this man.
FORTY-TWO
THEO
The doorbell ringsand I check the time, a string of curses falling from my mouth.
I’m cooking dinner for Bridget tonight, and I’m behind schedule. The food that should be ready hasn’t been put in the oven yet. The dessert I bought is sitting on the counter, not in the fridge where it belongs. I’m still wearing my work clothes even though I’ve been home for two hours.
And I’m nervous as hell.
We’re going a little backward here. Yeah, we’ve spent over a dozen nights together. I keep asking my parents to watch Mac, finding excuses for why I need to be alone. She thinks she’s getting a shit ton of Christmas presents with how many times I’ve mentioned wrapping gifts. For all the mornings I’ve woken up beside Bridget in bed, tangled hair in my face and her leg over my thigh, I haven’t taken her on a date. I haven’t made her a meal or bought her flowers. The last thing I want her to think is this is a strictly physical thing. The pull I have toward her is magnetic and indisputable. She’s been on my mind nonstop. As much as I’d love to spend our night together in bed, her wrists above her head and a smirk on her face as I kiss the inside of her thigh, I also want to get to know her when no one else is around.
I throw the chicken and pasta dish in the oven, setting a timer. I wipe my hands clean and head for the front door. When I open it, I find Bridget leaning against the wall.
“Hey,” she says. Her chin tips up and her lips quirk.
“Hey,” I answer. My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “You look really pretty.”
She does. A navy blue dress that hits above the knee. White Converse on her feet. A jean jacket over her shoulders.
Exquisite, really.
Her smile stretches to a grin and she spins. The material fans out, giving me an unobstructed view of the long legs I can’t wait to wrap around my waist.
“Thanks. You have sawdust in your hair. Intentional, or have you not showered yet?”
“Unintentional, I’m afraid.” I motion her inside and close the door behind us. My mouth presses against hers in a welcoming kiss. “I’ve been running around like a madman trying to get things right for tonight. I’ve barely had a minute to breathe.”
“You know you don’t have to impress me right?” Her arms loop around my neck. “Sitting in your kitchen with a bowl of leftover chili is plenty sufficient.”
“I know.” I kiss her neck. The line of her throat. The spot just at the top of her dress, where the material meets bare skin. “I wanted things to be nice. It’s the first night we’re spending time together.”
“That’s not true. The Christmas tree lot. In the pool. When you fucked me in the store. Every morning I’ve woken up with you hard between my legs… should I keep going?”
“I meant the first time together without being physical. Like a date.”
She brightens at the word. “What do you have planned?”
