Page 9 of Mistletoe Bargain with the Billionaire

Luckily for my embarrassment but otherwise unluckily, Mr. Jinglebell decides to stage a rebellion at this point. My cat, who had been feigning sleep as we neared the picnic shelter, suddenly dashes from his carrier like it’s sleighride time and makes a beeline for the arid wild brushland of Southern Utah.

“Mr. Jinglebell,NOOOOOOOOO!”I cry as he disappears from sight.

Nearly an hour later and after a frantic search, I’m a sobbing mess on the verge of telling Nick I may have to live here from now on when the troublesome scamp returns looking utterly pleased with himself.

“Ooh, you’re in so much trouble!” I scold. “Just see if you get any Tasty Time Tuna later after that stunt, mister.”

Mr. Jinglebell, being a cat, doesn’t feel remorse or shame the way human or dog children do. He simply stares back at me unrepentant with his blue eyes and swats me with his rapidly flicking tail.

Nick is silent by the SUV, looking more and more like a man who’s wondering what he’s gotten himself into. I load my cat back into his carrier and buckle up. We’ll be lucky to make it to Denver, our first night’s stop, before midnight at this point.

“I suppose it was like one big litter box out there for him,” he says at last once we’re on the road.

“Yes, maybe that was the-”

“I thought you said he wouldn’t run away.”

“I didn’t think he would,” I say sheepishly. “He slept all through the bus trip from Los Angeles to Vegas and only crept out of his carrier when forced.”

“Hmm.”

Nothing more. Just ‘hmm.’

And, just like he remembers things about me, I remember Nick Frost’s ‘hmm’ of displeasure. As kids, it was usually due to me suggesting something Nick knew would get us in trouble. Now, I feel like I’ve been judged as a cat mom and found lacking.

But, thirty minutes later, he pulls off the highway and into a pet store parking lot. Nick tells me to find a leash and harness that will fit Mr. Jinglebell so we can give him breaks without jailbreaks.

“No more off-roading on this trip for him.” Then, he cracks a smile and my heart swells with affection for him. Maybe I am on my way to becoming a Crazy Cat Lady someday but Nick still seems to like me.

“They have festive harnesses and leashes!” I announce once we’re inside, overjoyed.

I catch Nick trying not to laugh but I don’t care. We check out after I’ve selected the mistletoe-themed set, Nick handing over his card to the clerk before I can dig out the handful of bills needed. “We’ll call it my early gift for the purr-baby,” he teases.

“Thank you.” I point to the stitched-on mistletoe. “Time to practice,” I whisper. Standing on tiptoes, I kiss his cheek while the clerk clips the price tags off.

His cheek’s covered in stubble, rough against my soft lips but I find that I like it. His skin is warm. For a man who’s been driving for over three hours and spent an hour hunting an errant cat in the desert, he smells amazing, like pine and sandalwood.

“Well, thankyou,”he murmurs when I step back again.

I don’t think I’ve blushed this much since middle school. It’s all Nick’s fault. Why does he have to be so handsome and thoughtful? Dark auburn hair gleaming, fitted jeans and a thin tee which displays nicely muscled arms and chest, he looks like a freaking model if I’m honest. That he’s got the brains to back up the looks only makes him that much more appealing.

How does henothave a girlfriend? Faking it as his girlfriend could very well ruin me for being anybody else’s legit one. Except, this is all pretend. Getting carried away will only leave me depressed. And I get depressed enough post-holidays as it is.

Plus, I don’t know the state of Nick’s feelings towards this ex of his. She must’ve been close to the family for her to still be invited to his sister’s wedding.

I head towards the vehicle to tell Mr. Jinglebell how handsome he’ll be in his new harness. My cat makes dissatisfied mewling sounds as I put it on and avoid Nick’s eyes in the rearview.

“Oh, stop complaining,” I tell Mr. Jinglebell. “Better an unhappy cat camper than a lost one.”

And better I keep my head out of the clouds when it comes to Nick Frost.

7-Nick

Road Trip Rule #2: Conversation and music help pass the time.

We’re still two hours away from Denver when I’m forced to stop for a real break. My eyes are so dry they feel like we’re still in the Moab. Granted, I was up at 4AM this morning to catch my flight to Vegas. “I’ll drive the rest of the way tonight,” Carol says with concern when I mention it.

“Maybe we’ll stop here for the night instead. We can catch up tomorrow since we hopefully won’t have any more jailbreaks.” I hear a faint hiss from the backseat in reply.

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