Page 98 of Mad About Yule

After a minute of my leisurely kiss-fest, Griffin takes control. One hand shifts from my hip, over my coat, up my back, until it cradles my head. He deepens our connection into something else entirely—all flame and passion and promise. My body is a wood stove, and he adds fuel until that fire burns so bright I get dizzy from it.

That’s the other thing I’d go back and tell high school-me—Griffin is an excellent kisser, and if she’d ever stop their verbal sparring to experiment with a different kind of battle, she wouldn’t be bothered at all to lose. Because every moment of this is a win.

The wind gusts smoke into our faces, and we cough as we break apart. Okay, maybe campfire make-outs aren’tallwins.

He looks up at me, his face in shadow but oh so clear in my mind’s eye. He releases my head and lowers his hand back down to my side.

“Hey. I need to ask you something.”

I freeze, even though his hand keeps wandering over my coat along my back. He sounds so serious, I’m weirdly nervous. “Okay.”

Both his hands move up to frame my neck, and he dangles my earrings with his thumbs. “What does the waffle mean?”

I throw my head back and laugh. I have to admire his willpower—he held out a long time. Personally, I would have asked the same day I got the mystery emoji.

I run my hands along the front of his jacket until they trail along his neck and jaw. “It’s my favorite food.”

“I see.”

He shifts just a touch, almost nothing, but I can feel it. He’s disappointed. He likes the joke, but he didn’t want it to just be a random emoji sent to bug him. It isn’t…so I offer up the rest of the truth.

I lean closer, my fingers splaying across his jawline. “I text it when I’m thinking about you.”

He nods like he needs a second to ponder that. I don’t know why, but nerves wash through me. I’ve been making out with the man with abandon, but telling him I’m thinking about him feels like too much?

“You’re not sending it nearly often enough, then. I want you to think about me a whole lot more than that.”

And he pulls me back in for another kiss.

THIRTY-FOUR

GRIFFIN

“I gaveyou the volunteer schedule for tomorrow, right? And your list of volunteers? It’s got the map for where each Winter Wonderland piece goes on the back, and the phone number of the man who’s lending us his patio warmers in case he forgets.” Hope frowns. “He’d better not forget.”

I flattered myself that I’d helped her relax a touch on our date last night, but she showed up today like a jittery chihuahua, boss mode fully activated. She shakes like she drank twelve coffees this morning in her store.

I wink and pat my chest over the folded itinerary in my pocket. “I haven’t lost it yet.”

She looks over her own agenda. “We might not see each other until tree lighting.”

I’d noticed that, too. I’ll be with my crew hauling Hope’s Winter Wonderland pieces and setting them up in town square while she oversees the tree decorating and pretty much everything else. At least after this, she’ll be able to relax.

Preferably, with me.

“I hope you gave yourself time for a lunch break.”

“I’ll pack something, I promise.” She looks up Maple Street toward town square as though she can see her little village set up there already. “I hope I can trust your crew not to damage any of the buildings.”

I take her hands in mine and run my thumbs over her knuckles. Maybe she’ll say it’s too much out here in the open, but she needs a diversion. “Relax. I’ll be in charge of the crew, and you can trust me. Everything’s going to go just fine.”

She pulls her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I’m a fan of being held to things by you. All kinds of things.” A flush tinges her cheeks, making my blood quicken. We have too much to do today for a moment alone, but I’m already thinking about our next date. And the next.

The truth is, I don’t want to stop spending time with Hope. If I have my way, the end of the festival only means we’ll see each other more. More days when she’s not frazzled by a hundred responsibilities, and more nights…well, I just want more nights.

“Let’s focus on getting these lights up, and let me worry about the Wonderland.”

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