Page 15 of Mistletoe Bargain with the Billionaire

When we stop a couple of hours later, I’m struck by how much chillier it is. “Brrr, it’s sweater weather.” I start rummaging through my bag for something to throw on over my tee.

“We’re not wearing the Christmas ones yet… right?” Nick asks from behind me. He surprises me by helping ease my hair out of my cream-colored, cable knit sweater when I yank it over my head and find myself temporarily stuck.

“Don’t be silly. Those are for Christmas Eve at your grams’ house.” I am trying not to react to how nice his hand felt in my hair a second ago.

“Right.” He looks relieved as he keeps staring at my hair. He must’ve been worried about Mr. Jinglebell getting sick again and ruining one of them. “You look beautiful, Carol.”

The compliment catches me off guard even more than his hand in my hair. Actually, he looks a little surprised at himself, too. He quickly suggests we go see what an Iowa Christmas Market has to offer.

Turns out, it offers the standard stuff but the sparkling lights strung along the square look magical to me. I hum along to the classic carols, sip some hot cocoa and bask in the way it feels to have Nick grinning at me. “You still adore Christmas, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do.”

“You were the only kid I knew who kept a full-size tree in their room.”

“Mom and Dad indulged me. Don’t you still love it?”

“When we were kids, I suppose. Now, it seems more of a hassle than anything.”

“Nicholas Frost, you’re being a bah-humbug! I’m glad Mr. Jinglebell isn’t here to witness this.”

He laughs. “Forgive me, honey. I’ll try and do better for our purr-boy.”

Honey? Oh my Christmas cookies, I liked the sound of that. But, he could just be practicing our act. I give him a teasing shove to avoid overanalyzing the moment. “You’d better, mister.”

I’m pretty chill again as we stroll along until we reach the craft stalls where I make a complete fool of myself. “Have you seen this?!” I ask, flapping my arms in excitement.

“It’s a cornfield in a snow globe,” Nick answers, biting back laughter.

“Isn’t it perfect?”

“It’s very… Iowa.”

“I know! My mom collects snow globes, especially from places! She’s got one from Florida with sand and flamingos, one from Nashville with a banjo, one from New York with the Empire State Building and…”

“I remember,” Nick says, chuckling. “You should’ve found one for her in Vegas.”

“Oh, nutcrackers!” I stamp my foot, vexed with myself. (I ignore Nick’s loud cackling.) “That would’ve made a great gift for her.”

“This one will, too. Ma’am? Can you wrap this up for my girlfriend?”

My eyes widen as the vendor smiles and takes Nick’s money. He called me his girlfriend and bought a snow globe for my mom. I’m feeling some seriously dangerous flutters.

When I’m handed the small gift bag, a chilly gust of wind makes me shiver. Nick wraps an arm around my waist. “Is this brand of PDA okay tonight?” he asks, his warm breath teasing my ear.

“Yeah. It’s great.” It really is.

???

Thirty minutes later, Nick’s walking Mr. Jinglebell before we drive our final stretch to Cedar Rapids for the night. I’m in search of a few snacks and coffee for the road. I’m also wondering if anything will ever compare to the feel of Nick Frost’s arm around me and his warm hand on my hip as we explored a Christmas Market in Iowa together.

When I’m headed back to the SUV, I spy Mr. Jinglebell wrapping his kitty self around Nick’s legs while Nick’s on the phone. I slow down to observe him with my purr-baby. He stoops and distractedly, but gently, rubs his furry chin. Mr. Jinglebell flops on his back, loving that.

Then, I catch some of the words he’s saying. “Yeah, it’s going okay… I’m not answering that, Anthony.” He snorts in amusement before his voice is serious again. “Did you call that guy you know in LA for me?”

What guy in LA? Must be business.

Next thing I know, they’ve switched topics and it’s not business they’re talking about. “Yeah, I saw those pictures she posted…” A huff. “Lydia always looks good, doesn’t change anything. You just love being right, don’t you? Okay, I’ll see you at New Year’s.”

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