Page 63 of Scrooge and the Girls Next Door

I pat his arm, content that I’ve found the right motivation. “Think of this as an American courtship ritual.”

Henry sighs. “Very well. Are there other steps to this plan?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to overwhelm you. You’ll do this a step at a time, a gradual makeover so that she’s paying more and more attention to you but she’s not sure why. If you do it all at once, you come off as trying too hard.”

“It doesn’t sound any less ridiculous.”

“Trust me, Henry. Do you want a shot with Lulu?”

“Leigh.”

“Then listen to me.”

He sighs but doesn’t argue anymore, and we watch Evie for a bit, waving back at passing cars and enjoying the heck out of her first Christmas Spectacular. Henry shifts beside me, like he can’t find a comfortable position to stand in. I consider introducing another topic of conversation, but the romance coaching has shifted the vibe between us, created a distance, and it’s best to leave it that way.

When the silence has tipped into truly awkward, he slides his hands in his pockets. “Anyway, Merry Christmas,” he says. “I better go do some grading.”

“You said you’re caught up.”

His expression is easy to read with the help of the bajillion bulbs in my yard: a fleeting deer-in-the-Christmas-lights look. “I meant planning.”

“Sounds good.” Then I squint. “Henry? What is . . .” I reach up and touch his jaw. I’ve felt it when it was smooth under my fingers, but now there’s a faint scruff.

He’s definitely got a distinct five o’clock shadow, and I snatch my hand back when the scrape of the bristles shoots a current up my arm. My fingertips are overly sensitive. Maybe not usually. But they are right now.

“I haven’t had facial hair in a long time. I wasn’t sure how fast it would grow, so I thought I better start it now for your plan.”

Right. My win-over-Office-Goddess-with-a-makeover plan. Office Goddess who Henry blushes when he talks about. Office Goddess who is more educated and definitely more childless than I am. Office Goddess who, without a doubt, has far fewer complications to offer. Almost anyone would.

“Good job.” I keep my voice neutral. “You’re an A-plus student.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Anyway, better get ready for classes on Monday.”

“Good luck,” I mumble when he’s too far away to hear me. Because that man is going to walk into a classroom full of students who are suddenly hot for teacher.

Whew. Glad he’s clearly off-limits for me. I still have no time for a relationship, and if I did, I’m not even sure what kind of guy I want. But I do know that even though I underestimated Henry’s hotness—possibly by a lot—what I don’t need is a much older, emotionally closed off, reforming grinch.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Paige

Afewcarshaddriven past on Friday night to see the lights. But Saturday? Saturday is crazy.

By the time I fill in more of the window display after closing, it’s almost 9:00 when I get home, and even though Evie is hanging with Noah and the Dubs, she made sure the Christmas Spectacular was in full effect, the lights blazing a welcome home.

The street is a steady stream of cars, and it’s clear our place is the main attraction. Whatever adults of good taste and sense may think of our display, they’re driving cars full of kids who clearly love it, all of them slowing or even stopping in front of our house.

I let myself in through the back door, and I’m about ready to change into pajamas and crash when my phone vibrates with a text from Henry.

HENRY: Is it too late for you and Evie to come get hot cocoa?

PAIGE: Evie is with Noah.

HENRY: Do you want hot cocoa?

Yes. But no. I’m tired, for one. But for two, I’m not sure it’s a great idea to see Henry and his confusing scruff. But I bet he makes a good cocoa.

PAIGE: Be right over.

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