Page 48 of Mistletoe Latte

With that, the last of their customers left leaving Emma alone with Nick. He stood next to the door, arms crossed while watching Sam teeter down the road. “There’s a damn ice patch,” he whispered, looking ready to run out and help. Sam must have navigated the path well enough as Nick turned away.

“It’s looking bad out there,” he said.

“It could be as much as nine inches.” Emma held up her phone with the emergency weather app blaring about the blizzard warning.

Nick rubbed his chin. “You know the weather, always claims to be nine inches when it really means six.”

She laughed before she knew it was a joke. Emma pursed her lips tight to keep another giggle at bay when the stoic Nick gave a little smirk. “Might be best to close up now, but wait out the storm. Unless you…?” He pointed to her phone, and she frowned. The app hadn’t canceled yet, but it was only a matter of time.

“No. I mean, waiting sounds smart.”

“Warm, at least.” He stomped a foot and stared at the windows. The rising wind whistled through the panes, rattling the glass in the frame. Nick flipped the open sign to closed, but he didn’t reach for the deadbolt. “I’ll leave it unlocked in case some damn fool’s out in this,” he explained as if she needed to know.

Emma nodded at the sense that made.

“But I don’t want to give them any ideas.” Nick turned off the main overhead lights. Only the faint glow above the back wall, a halo around the employee door, and the twinkle of Christmas lights cut through the darkening gray air. Without the jangle of bags, customer murmurs, and hiss of steam, the music throbbed through the cafe. The intimacy overwhelmed Emma.

The yellow glow of the Christmas lights outlined Nick’s cheeks, the spread of his shoulders, curve of his biceps, and line of his forearms. Her foot took a step forward, drawn to the light, while her heart feared the dark.

“It’s…” Emma breathed, a chill racing through her body. She shivered at the heat of Nick’s body blocking off the cold. Slowly, he unfolded his arms, letting both rest on his thighs. She’d nearly held his hand before, wanting to comfort him. Now, she wanted to take it, wrap his arms around her, and kiss him. “Quiet in here.”

“It is,” he whispered. Nick raised his hand.To hold her? Lift her up and kiss her?It dropped, the knuckles banging on the table. “Seems a good time to clean up.” With that declaration, he walked to the side to find the broom.

Emma closed her eyes, trying to shake away the goosebumps running the length of her body. Getting control of her voice, she said, “I’ll wipe off the tables.”

NICK NEARLY JUMPED at the buzzing from his pocket. He stared around the cafe that damn near sparkled and fished out his phone.

“Am I supposed to be walking to the cafe in this, or do you want me to not die?”

Skylar? Did that mean...?Nick groaned at the clock, sure enough, ticking over to five. She must have been waiting to call him with her smart-ass comment in mind. Instead of calming, the blizzard was picking up steam for round two. He stared at the snow building up to the flower boxes and climbing.

“Stay put,” he said. Emma looked up from a little table by the window. Moving the phone away, he whispered, “Skylar” to her, then continued with his niece. “It’s best if you spend the night. Let me talk to Abby’s mother.”

“Okay.”

Night had fallen hard, the normally blazing street lamps little more than distant stars in the storm. Nick began to pace and the walls tightened in around him. There was never much light—a handful of lanterns, equipment dots, and… The hazy glow of the Christmas lights pulled him out of the cave in Afghanistan. He wrung his neck, shaking away the jitters when a familiar voice spoke up.

“Nick. Hello.”

“Uh, hi Mrs...” His brain blanked before the name came back. “Wilkins.”

“Are you coming to get Skylar?” She sounded curious and excited. God, how badly did his niece wear out her welcome?

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. With the storm—”

“It’s a brute. Maybe it’d be better to not risk heading out into it.”

Whew. Nick sighed at the mother instantly understanding. ”Yes, thank you.”

“There’s plenty of space for the girls downstairs, which would leave the upper floors all to us,” she said.

“Uh. I’m stuck at the cafe. I was hoping you’d keep Skylar and I’d pick her up bright and early in the morning.”

A long pause followed and Nick frowned. He moved to see if the storm might have knocked out cell service when Mrs. Wilkins spoke. “Of course. I’m sorry you’re trapped. How will you keep warm?”

Emma swept her hand down her hair, twisting the ponytail until she reached the tip and cupped her palm around the thick locks.That hand would be a tight fit.The heat from a thousand filthy thoughts burned in Nick’s gut, but he couldn’t shake them. Emma must have felt him staring as she put down her pen, raised her eyes to him, and smiled.

“I’m good,” he squeaked. “I mean the place still has power and heat. I should go. Please keep Skylar alive until tomorrow.”

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