Page 31 of Merry Little Heartbreak

“Yes, and I brought us candy cane lattes to get in the mood.” His voice pushed goose bumps up along her skin.

“Why are you doing this, really? Your mom said she’s doing much better, and her doctors are optimistic she won’t need another round of chemo. You’ll be able to head back to LA by Christmas,” she said, letting her shoulders slump.

“She isn’t out of the woods yet, and I’m really enjoying my time back home. I’m considering staying permanently. Not to mention that I love to decorate for my favorite holiday. I could end up working here, so it’s smart to establish some goodwill,” he challenged, picking up the lights from the floor.

“What do you mean?” she said, freezing in motion.

“I assumed you knew the director of the hospital offered me a job. They want me to stay.” He took a sip of his coffee.

“You’re considering staying at Mercy, but what about your career in LA? What about your life there?”

“It’s funny how little roots I actually put down in California. I’d probably have to go back and gather up a few more of my things and say goodbye to my colleagues. But I’m guessing they’ll be happy to take over my lucrative portfolio. The practice partners will counteroffer to try to get me to stay, but I’m starting to think I’ve outgrown plastic surgery.”

Margo was shocked. She never thought he would actually consider staying. She assumed once his mom was better and his consultations with the plastic surgery department were wrapped up, he would leave. It was bad enough realizing she still had feelings for Drake and working with him temporarily, but having to work in the same hospital would be too much.

“I can’t tell if you’re annoyed or disappointed with the idea of us becoming permanent colleagues,” he said.

She clamped her mouth shut and pasted on a smile. “Oh, I think it’s great news. Great for Mercy, great for you, and great for your family. I’m sure your parents will love to have you back home.”

Shuffling through the lights again, she looked anywhere but at him.

“Very convincing. Maybe I should take over dealing with those lights. You look like you have your hands tangled.” He moved closer to help.

But she pulled away.

“You don’t like the holidays, especially Christmas.”

“Says who? You’d be surprised how many people splurge on plastic surgery procedures for the holidays. It’s a huge moneymaker.”

She scoffed. “Of course you like it now because it made you a lot of money.”

“I happen to love Christmas. But in high school and college, I enjoyed razzing you more. Playing grinch to your spastic elf on a festive bender was fun.” He looked in the bin at her feet and plucked out a bunch of fake mistletoe. “Maybe we should get some fresh mistletoe this year, so no one mistakes this sad bundle for a weed.”

With another deep breath, she spun away from him, only to further tangle her ankles and lose her footing in the lights. But Drake was there to catch her, and the electric heat that pulsed through her body as his arms enveloped her was almost enough for her to forget they were enemies now.

“I’m fine,” she said, getting steady on her feet but still clearly tangled.

Before she could argue, he kneeled down and grabbed her leg, forcing her to use his shoulder to balance or fall on the floor.

“Don’t argue, and don’t move. You’ll ruin the lights,” he said as he continued to pull the cords from around her legs while winding them around his elbow. The heat coming off from his body being so close to hers was like an old familiar blanket. His nearness was sending her senses into a panic; sweaty palms, racing heart, and dry mouth. Once he had untangled her bottom half, he stood up.

“Looks like I’m the only one that planned to help out today, so you’re going to have to let me or be stuck here all night.”

She cringed.

“It won’t be so bad. We don’t even have to talk to each other. We can just sing Christmas carols at the top of our lungs. But in the interest of time, why don’t I take over the lights?”

“Fine, you’re taller anyway. You can do the lights and the gingerbread house doorframe,” she said as a yawn slipped out.

“Sounds like you need to head home and get some sleep. I can manage this alone, unless you’re afraid I’ll mess it up.”

“I’m not leaving until this room is a winter wonderland. The festivities begin tomorrow.” Finally unraveling the rest of the tinsel and lights from her arms, she grabbed the sparkly snowflakes that needed to get hung along with candy cane-striped garland.

“What festivities?” he said, before handing her a latte.

Unable to physically refuse a caffeine-filled Christmas in a cup, she accepted the sugar-laced brew and fought the shudder as their hands touched.

“There will be a secret Santa selection—where we each choose a name out of a hat and have to find a gift for a colleague, a group gingerbread house construction project, a potluck, and of course the hospital’s annual holiday gala. But we’ll have our own little party as we get closer to Christmas.”

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