Page 39 of All I Want For Christmas Is You

“It’s a good thing. Now, the question is…why did you get that way when you dropped off my present?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“No, I don’t think I do. Besides, even if I could guess, I’d rather hear it from you.”

“Because I like you.”

“Like me, like me?” she teased.

He nodded, not playing around.

“Even though you said you’re not ‘cut out’ for romantic feelings?”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He gazed into her eyes. “I was wrong.”

Chapter Seven

Margot didn’t want to put the last ornament on the tree. Because once they finished, it was over. They’d had a great night, but it was late, and he needed to pack and get ready for his flight.

She held up the clear plastic icicle. “This is so pretty.” He’d filled it with red glitter. He’d made others in gold, green, and pearlescent white, too. All together, he’d created three different styles of ornaments. It must’ve taken him hours to do all this.

Finding an empty branch, she went ahead and hung it. Then, she took a step back to take in their handiwork. It was so festive, his effort so kind and overwhelming, she couldn’t believe he’d done this for her. “It’s perfect.” She inhaled the sharp pine scent. “If I close my eyes, I’m in my house in Greenwich, trimming the tree with my kids and singing along to rock ‘n’ roll Christmas carols.” She smiled at him. “Thank you for giving me a little slice of home.”

“You’re welcome.” He eyed the tree. “I should’ve bought lights.”

“Yep. You’re right.” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “Forget it. Let’s just toss the whole thing.” And when he broke into that dimpled grin, her pulse kicked into overdrive. “Cut it out. It’s perfect just as it is.” Affection tumbled through her. She couldn’t help but hurl herself at him, hugging him close and pressing her cheek against his warm, solid chest. “You’re an incredible man.” His soft cotton shirt smelled of laundry detergent, and underneath was something unique to him. Something that connected with her very essence.

His hand went to the back of her head, and he held her to him like she was precious. She never wanted to leave the safety of his arms.

Wait a second—was he shaking? She leaned back to look at him. “Are you all right?” He looked tortured, and she tried to pull away. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.”

His hold tightened. “For what?”

“For making you uncomfortable. I got carried away.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m just not used to…this.”

She tried to laugh it off. “Hugs from strange women?”

“Oh, no. That happens all the time.” He cracked a grin. “No, I don’t connect with a lot of people. I don’t understand why I like you so much.”

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither.”

“I don’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” She touched his arm. “I know what you meant. Believe me, I’ve known a lot of people in my life, and I’ve never felt anything like this either. Even with my ex. And he was a force of nature.”

“What does that mean?”

She stepped away from him to gather the empty bags and tidy the room. “He worked hard, he partied hard. He was funny and loud and the life of the party.” She dusted the glitter off the nightstand and into her hand. “He swept me off my feet. It was exciting and fun, but we never had this kind of crazy energy.” Fluffing her pillows, she climbed onto the bed. She patted the mattress, and he stretched out beside her.

“And what were you like?” he asked.

“When I met him, I was living my dream of being an artist in New York City. That’s the pretty side of it. The reality was I was scared, overwhelmed, and didn’t know how in the world I was going to make a go of it.”

“Did you have a job?”

“I had an internship at a gallery. It didn’t pay much, but it showed me I was way out of my element. All those ideas in my head of hanging out with artists and being the toast of the town went right out the window.”

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