Page 46 of Saving Christmas

She was looking up into his eyes, her lips a breath from his. He smiled and took a quick step back, his hands still lightly touching her. He wanted to forget the painting and lean down and kiss her again. He started to do just that when she said, “Don’t.”

Then she turned back to her painting.

Why?

He was tempted to pull her back around and up against his chest. To demand to know why he couldn’t kiss her. Now that he was thinking about it, remembering their kiss from earlier, recalling how sweet she tasted, he couldn’t focus on his painting.

No, all he could think about was her.

And how much he wanted to kiss her again.

She seemed oblivious to his plight as she happily painted her discs, her brows furrowing in concentration as she turned the craft wood into large peppermints. He took a deep breath and turned back to his canvas, working fast and furious, painting as many small Christmas scenes as he could to fill the booth for the festival. Smaller canvases had a lower price point, too, which would be perfect for a Christmas fair.

His heart was lifting. He wasn’t sure if it was because she was standing next to him, humming Christmas carols, or if it was because he was beginning to think maybe she was right. Maybe he could do some shows, save up his money, and open a gallery of his own. If he moved back in with his parents for a few months, he’d be able to afford the rent on a gallery and be able to make it happen even sooner.

And if he did, if he moved back, maybe she’d trust he wouldn’t hurt her again. That they might have a chance. The future he’d always dreamed of might be possible right here in the past he left behind.

But what if he failed?

What if he couldn’t make it happen?

Doubts needled him. What did he know about running a business? All he did was paint. He knew from watching his folks struggle to keep their coffee shop going that it wasn’t as easy as it appeared. He had to be smart. Rational. Safe and secure.

He’d do the booth, because he said he would, with the small vintage paintings, but his real art he should save for Gerald’s gallery in Denver.

If Gerald even wanted it back.

Jimmy still hadn’t heard from him.

An hour later, Roni had turned five of her wooden discs into peppermints and let out a long yawn.

He looked at the time. “I should get you back home.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Though I don’t want to, I’m having fun.” She looked up at him tilting her head in an adorable way. “But I have an early morning in the coffee shop tomorrow.”

“Me too. I know how that is. Though I’ve been painting most nights, and my mom’s been covering the morning shift for me.”

“Nice.”

“Come on, let’s get you home.” He led her out of his studio and down to the truck. All the way back to Roni’s place, he couldn’t help feeling that he didn’t want this night, this time with her, to end.

No matter if it was a mistake, he didn’t want to go back home to Denver.

He wanted to stay. To see if they could make it work.

But he couldn’t say anything to her. Not yet. Not until he was sure he wasn’t going to change his mind again.

Not until he was sure what Gerald wanted to do about his art.

CHAPTER16

Roni couldn’t help the excitement bubbling up inside her as Jimmy drove her home. She should keep her emotions in check and not let herself fall for him too hard. She knew that and told herself it repeatedly all night, and what a wonderful night it had been.

But she still couldn’t stop the ridiculous smile from stretching across her face.

She bounced a little in her seat. “I can’t tell you how excited I am about this festival. My booth is going to be amazing,” she babbled as she stared down at her peppermint discs. “How should we decorate your booth?”

He looked at her, his forehead crinkling as he drove. The snow was falling harder, and she could tell he was trying to concentrate on the road.

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