“You’re notthatgood.” Grandma Jean stalked toward the booth, snatching up her jingle bells with a curse.
Clearly, I was. Jack leaned down to whisper something in Becky’s ear, and she lifted her hand to touch his cheek.
She. Touched. His. Cheek.
The move made me want to snap a candy cane and file it into a shiv. But that wasn’t very professional. I should just use a regular stick. Nothing holiday-related. They’d never tie the crime back to me.
The pair moved closer to the mistletoe arch which was empty and calling to the new couple like a siren on a rock.Why did I make it so beautiful?I was standing right next to the arch. Garland was literally in my face. Could they not see me or were they so blinded by attraction that I might as well have been a fire hydrant? Simon waved them under the arch with fake enthusiasm and lifted his camera.
My head exploded.
I’m not watching this.I whirled and dove for a secluded spot. Anywhere I didn’t have to see the effects of mistletoe or hear the crowd cheer from another kiss.
A hand grabbed me around the wrist before I’d made it a few feet.
“Going somewhere, Delia?”
I froze, my feet stumbling to a halt.These boots really do have great traction.I closed my eyes and prepared myself for an uncomfortable confrontation. The pep talk in my head went something like this:
All you wanted for Christmas was Jack’s happiness. Put down the metaphorically razor-edged candy cane.
My teeth ached from the sweetest in my voice. “Jack, you came to the festival. I’m so pleased. Did you find my gift?”
“I did. I’ll treasure it always.”
“Ha. In a box collecting dust with the rest of the ornaments?” I asked dryly, twisting my arm out of his hold and brushing past him, searching for the quickest way out.
“Oh no. I’m planning on having someone over for Christmas. I’ll need to decorate. Wouldn’t want them to think I’m a monster.”
“Well, good for you. I’m sure you and Becky will have a memorable time. Don’t worry about me, I’ll check out early and leave you a stellar review.”
Now that I was turned around, the mistletoe arch was blocking my way. A fitting end to another unsuccessful year in the romance department.Sure, make the jilted witch march through mistletoe alone in front of a crowd of onlookers and a booth full of my new spell-loving friends. Just peachy.
“Delia?”
I wavered and faced Jack, surprised by the intensity of his gaze. Everyone around us had gone quiet, and I peered down at my feet wishing for a whiteout blizzard I could vanish into. Another few seconds of this unbearable silence and I was casting one.
“What is it?”
“I asked you once before, and I’ll ask you again. Are you jealous?”
“Yes!” The word burst from my throat, and I threw up my hands in defeat. “Are you happy? Thanks to you, I considered committing a holiday homicide. I just couldn’t decide if it would be a single or a double.”
Jack’s mouth hitched into a tempting grin, and he moved forward, forcing me back a few steps. “Good.”
“Good? You want me to spend Christmas in a jail cell?” I angled my head back, my hands fisted on my hips.
“No. I want you to stand right where you are and hold still.”
Hold still?My chin tilted up, gaze traveling to the ball of mistletoe suspended over my head.Oh boy… Blizzard activate.As the silence deepened,light snow fluttered softly to the ground. Jingle bells sounded, suspiciously like the ones Grandma Jean had been ringing.
Jack stepped under the arch, his hands coming up to cup the sides of my face. The snow fell faster, swirling around us. I blinked as it caught in my lashes. Brilliant hope rose inside my chest. This wasn’t some magic spell I had control over, one I could bend to my will. This was an unruly, wild moment of anticipation.
When Jack’s gaze dropped to my lips, I held my breath.
“Delia,” he said with a rusty scrape in his voice. “I don’t know where you got the idea, but you’re a tinsel-obsessed troublemaker, and I don’t want Becky. I never did. I only want you.”
He lowered his lips to mine, sweeping softly at first, then pulled me closer, taking my mouth in a deep kiss. I would have sighed if I’d had any air left, or melted into a puddle like an icicle at the first hint of spring.
