Page 85 of Booked for the Holidays
After a few more minutes of cozy snuggles, he coaxes me out of bed with coffee and kisses, drapes my favorite blanket over my shoulders, and nudges me into the living room. My gingerbread advent calendar is there on the wall, catching the morning light.
It’s silly, but I love that thing. I never told him how much I swooned when he started slipping little things inside. The blush hairbow. The mulled spice bag. The cherry swirl candies and the firefly brooch. He’s turned it into this sweet, surprising countdown that makes my chest ache every time I see it.
He stands behind me now, close enough that I can feel the heat of him through the blanket. “Go on,” he says, voice warm at my ear. “Open the last one.”
I side-eye him but my heart’s already fluttering. I pop open the tiny gingerbread door marked25.
For all the small, thoughtful items that have led up to today, I’m not sure how he can top them.
Inside, I find a small brass key, tied with red ribbon. A scrap of paper underneath that readsfor us.
I go still. For a second I can’t breathe.
A key.A key.
A key to what?
Oh, god. Did he buy me a car? I don’t even want a car. I can barely parallel park my Subaru.
Is it for a house? Did he buy me a house? I will absolutely pass out if he bought me a house.
Is it…a shed? A secret romance library shed? A wine cellar? A bunker? A tiny gingerbread cottage in the woods where he plans to keep me barefoot and stocked with romance novels until I agree to marry him?
I flick a glance at him leaning against the doorframe. A big, warm, slightly smug in the worst way smile on his face.
Yeah, he would.He would absolutely buy me a secret romance cottage in the woods.
“What is this?” I ask, voice way too high and squeaky.
He runs a hand through his messy hair. An adorable habit that ruins me every time. He steps closer, all heat and sweet affection. When he brushes his knuckles down my cheek, it’s so gentle it makes my throat tight and my brain immediately turns to static.
“I need to show you something. Come with me?”
I glance down at my enormous T-shirt and Christmas slipper socks. I’m so unprepared for whatever life-altering thing is about to happen to me right now.
“Now?”
His grin curves, lazy and crooked. “Now.”
My arms cross over my chest, covering my braless breasts and hardened nipples.
“You realize you can walk down the street naked and then just hightail it back to New York like nothing happened. I, on the other hand, live here.”
His grin deepens.
“It’s not far. Twenty steps, max.”
Twenty steps?Is he going to have me leave my apartment, then walk back in?
I glance at the key again, my heart thumping. God, please don’t let it be a bunker.
I convince Liam I need leggings so I don’t freeze my ass off, then he patiently waits for me to put on a bra. I’m not stalling, I’m preparing myself.
After I pull on my knee-length puffer coat and stomp into my boots, Liam takes my hand like he’s afraid I might change my mind halfway down the stairs. He’s warm and quiet beside me, his thumb brushing over my knuckles like he can steady the small hurricane that is spinning in my chest.
Outside, Founders Street is dead quiet. It’s Christmas morning at seven a.m. after all. There’s nothing but soft snow under the streetlamps and the twinkle of lights hung in the trees lining the town’s main business district. The only sound is our boots crunching along the sidewalk.
I glance around, half-expecting to see a giant neon sign blinkingsurprise!above one of the buildings. My brain is still racing. Is this some kind of treasure hunt? Do I have to solve a riddle? Should I be counting my steps?
