Page 35 of Mistletoe, Mayhem & Mr. Grump
"You have very specific ethical standards," he observes.
"I'm very specifically ethical," I agree.
He laughs, and the tension breaks. "We should probably figure out Christmas gift preferences."
"For each other?" I ask.
"Couples know what each other want for Christmas," he explains.
"I want my shop to survive," I say immediately.
"Besides that," he breathes.
"That's all I want. That's all I've wanted since Grandma died. Just to keep the one thing she left me," I admit, feeling tears threaten.
"Hey," he says softly, pulling me closer. "We're going to save it."
"How can you be so sure?" I ask.
"Because I'm very good at getting what I want," he says.
"What do you want?" I ask.
He's quiet for so long I think he won't answer. Then, "I want to be someone worth saving."
"Well, you are," I tell him.
"You don't know me," he says.
"I know enough," I insist.
We sit in silence; the candles flickering around us like tiny judgmental flames. This is getting too real, too close to actual feelings.
"We should practice kissing," I blurt out, immediately regretting everything. Why can I not shut up?
"What?" He looks startled.
"For the gala. We'll probably have to kiss. Under mistletoe or during a slow dance or something. We should practice so it looks natural," I explain, my words tumbling over each other.
"Our kiss at Giuseppe's looked pretty natural," he points out.
"That was spontaneous. The gala will be planned. Observed. Judged," I explain.
"So, you want to practice planned kissing?" he clarifies.
"Yes. No. Maybe?" I'm spiraling.
"Okay," he says simply.
"Okay?" I repeat.
"Okay, we'll practice." He turns to face me fully. "How do you want to do this?"
"I don't know. I've never practiced kissing before. Do people practice kissing? Is that a thing?" I babble.
"Wren," he says patiently.
"Yes?"
