Page 31 of All I Want For Christmas Is You

“That doesn’t sound weird at all. He killed any love or loyalty, and you decided not to spend your energy on a man with a shitty character.”

“Yes, exactly. More than anything, I think my kids are worried about me. They’re afraid I won’t be able to support myself into old age. They probably picture me as this old lady barista hobbling to work and getting scolded because she can’t read the order right.”

“They’ve got it all wrong.”

“Oh, yeah? And how do you picture me?”

“A woman with paint under her fingernails, making hot chocolate for her grandchildren, and living in a…” He made a slow rolling motion with his hand as if waiting for her to finish the sentence.

“A cottage by the sea?” She shook her head. That didn’t fit. “A cabin in the woods? A farm where I make my own butter?” She laughed. “God, no. My gnarled hands won’t be able to churn that long.”

He reached for her, turned up her palm, and held it as though it were a fragile shell. “These hands will be lovely, even when they’re gnarled because they’ll make beautiful art and delicious cookies, and they’ll soothe cranky grandchildren.”

“You make me feel things, Beau Gentry. Dangerous things.” Even though it felt good, she pulled her hand away. Or, more likely, because it felt good.

“So, what about you?” he asked. “Are you worried about seeing your ex at the wedding?”

“That’s hard to answer. I’ve built this fortress, so part of me can stand behind it and say I don’t care about that piece of shit. But there’s another part that dreads seeing him.”

“With Petra, you mean?”

“Not really. Maybe if he’d left me for another nurturer, I’d be upset. But he didn’t. Petra’s my polar opposite. Now, there’ll definitely be some resentment if their business got funding, and now they’re rolling in cash. I’ll feel a little sorry for myself. But it’s more that I don’t want to be forced to play the happy parents of the bride. I don’t want to ruin my daughter’s day, but I also don’t want to pretend to be on good terms with him. Do you know what I mean?”

“I do.” He leaned closer, gazing into her eyes. “How about this? I’ll go with you and be your fake boyfriend.”

“What did you just say?” She laughed. “How do you know about fake boyfriends?”

“Because my brilliant daughter Jessa reads romance, and she tells me about them.”

“She talks to you about romance books?”

“We talk about everything. Well, she mostly talks, and I listen.”

“But why would she think you’d want to hear about what she’s reading?”

“It’s not about the book. It’s about what she thinks about the different situations. She gets all riled up because the hero did something unforgivable or the heroine’s a doormat. Stuff like that. I could listen to her all day long just to get a glimpse into her mind.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you.”

I want to kiss you.

And peel that shirt off your shoulders. Unbuckle your belt, pop those buttons, and yank down your jeans, so I can run my hands all over your body.

I want to keep you.

He grinned. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Yeah. It’s good.”

The connection between them crackled and sparked, and she found his attention fixed on her mouth. Unconsciously, she licked her lips. His gaze tracked the slide of her tongue, and his hand fisted on his thigh. He leaned in, his scent filling her senses and making her dizzy. And right when he got a breath away from kissing her, right when her eyelids fluttered closed, his phone trilled.

He jerked away, fumbling as he answered the call. “Hey.” A sheen of perspiration gleamed on his forehead. “Yeah, of course.” He turned his wrist to read the face of his watch. “Don’t worry about the weather. We’re still having dinner together.” He cut a nervous glance at Margot. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m on my way.” He hit disconnect, but he didn’t get up. He looked as shaken as she felt.

Best to address it. “Saved by the bell.” Even though she was rattled—I almost kissed this man—she forced a smile. “Are you eating at the lodge tonight? Because we’re having Yule log. I’ll make sure she gets the slice with the most frosting.”

“I’ll let her know.” He got up so quickly his knees banged the table, and their drinks sloshed. “I have to get Jessa.” He watched her for a moment. “But I’ve really enjoyed talking with you, Margot.”

This is it. The last time she’d see him.

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