Page 54 of All I Want For Christmas Is You

He didn’t get voices in his head.

Yes, she was beautiful with her shiny, dark hair and the hint of mischief in her warm hazel eyes. He loved her curves. Jesus, he could feel them in his hands—just the memory kicked up a hum of desire. And yes, absolutely, there was something beneath the surface that called to him. That connected with him.

But that doesn’t make her mine.

If they lived in the same town, maybe they could date. But come on, she was eight months out of a devastating divorce. Was she even ready for that?

Sure, they got along great. Because this isn’t the real world. It was an escape. And she didn’t need the hardship of adjusting to a new relationship when she’d barely escaped the pain of the last one.

Get your head on straight and go make it right with her. Somehow, he’d hurt her, and he needed to hear her out, understand what he’d done wrong, so he could apologize.

He headed over, watching her set the tray down and unload the bowls. By the time he’d reached her, she was just pulling out a chair at an empty table, ready to sit.

The moment she caught sight of him, her smile wavered. She looked like she wanted to flee, but then, her shoulders pushed back, and her features hardened with resolve.

“I guess it’s just the two of us.” He didn’t pull out a chair, though. If he truly made her uncomfortable, he wouldn’t stay.

That challenging look in her eyes—so different from the warm, welcoming one he was used to—scrambled his thoughts. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn’t do that until he knew what he’d done. It wouldn’t be sincere.

What do I say?

Last night was the best of my life. The last twenty-four hours have…well, awakened me. Yes, that was it exactly. He’d never felt so alive.

But if he’d offended her, if he’d hurt her, then it would be a callous thing to say.

It’s not about me.

Where should he start?

He didn’t know. So, he reached into his pocket and grabbed the handful of crumpled notes. He dropped them on the table. “I—”

“Mind if we join you?” Arms loaded with supplies, an older gentleman pulled out a chair, not waiting for a response. “Charlie and I—he’s my twin brother—stay here every Christmas. We live right in town. Well, in the woods, but not far. I’d say a brisk twenty-minute hike. But what are two old men going to do for the holidays by themselves? So, we stay here. Ms. Lucy’s always got things going on. She’s a fine woman.”

“She really is.” Each table held bags of candy, so Margot began opening them and dumping the contents into bowls. “I’m Margot.” She reached out a hand.

“I’m Bill, and this is Charlie.” The white-haired man shook hers and then reached across the table to Beau.

Forced to tear his gaze off the ignored crumpled notes, he introduced himself to both men. Charlie, who looked slightly more rumpled than his brother, took a handful of jellybeans and popped them into his mouth.

When more people joined their table, Beau quickly claimed the only remaining seat. If he’d sat down sooner, he could’ve been next to Margot, but he still wasn’t certain what she was thinking, so it was probably best to give her space.

Numbly, he sat there watching everyone join in the construction of the house. Margot started gluing the gingerbread walls together with royal icing.

While she gave off no hostile vibes, she was clearly ignoring him.

Texting might be a better way to handle this, but he’d never gotten her number.

While he sat back and watched, the group laughed and talked about their holiday plans, offering suggestions on how to design the house.

“You want a jellybean?” Charlie asked.

“Sure.” Beau held out his palm, and the older man shared a few pieces of the sticky candy. “Thanks.” Well, he couldn’t just sit there. He had to contribute something, so he took one of the empty plastic freezer bags and snipped off an end. Then, he filled it with the icing and piped a ribbon of snow dripping off the eaves.

“Oh, I love that,” someone said.

“Look, now we’re not basic anymore,” another guy said, and everyone laughed.

Mostly, he felt like he was outside a bubble looking in. He needed to talk to Margot, find out what she was thinking. It was killing him to think he’d hurt her.

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