“Where, exactly, are you hoping to be kissed?”
Preston frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The tie?”
He scowled down at it then shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
“Mistletoe. You’ve got mistletoe hung around your neck and if one gets kissed under the mistletoe...just wondering where you expect to be kissed.”
His face flamed and she couldn’t help laughing about how flustered she could make him. “I thought it was just a generic Christmas pattern. I was trying to be jolly or something.”
“I guess getting kissed under that mistletoe would definitely make you jolly.”
And with their shared laughter ringing through his office, she gave him a sassy wave and left, leaving him to watch her walk out the door.
Where, exactly, are you hoping to be kissed?
Preston tossed his pen on the desk and leaned back in his chair with a groan.
It was three days later and he could still hear that question rattling around in his head. He was supposed to be concentrating on the tangled knot four marriages, six children and three properties had made of a new client’s estate. He had an appointment with the client tomorrow to go over his preliminary suggestion for creating a trust. That would require him to be able to articulate his suggestion.
So far the only thing his brain could articulate was a strong desire for Zoe to take his tie up on its inadvertent offer.
She was punishing him, he thought. She knew the effect she had on him and because he’d tried to preempt being hurt by saying a bunch of really dumb—if regrettably true—stuff at Thanksgiving dinner, she was going to tease him until his balls exploded.
It didn’t help that he’d probably be seeing her tonight at the Christmas party. He didn’t know for a fact she’d be there, but he knew Noah and Carly were going, thanks to running into Noah at the market. That meant Zoe would probably be there, too.
He just needed to get in, socialize, meet some new people and then get out.
But first he needed to finish his notes on the estate from hell. He forced himself to focus long enough to put some thoughts on paper and then locked up. At home, he had a very light meal in case Abe’s party hosting didn’t include food, and then he took a shower. He decided against the suit he’d usually wear to a holiday party in Boston and went with casual khakis and a lightweight red sweater over a cream V-neck T-shirt.
He had a little bit of time left to kill, so he pulled out his phone and pulled up the ongoing group chat he had going with both of his parents.
Getting ready for a Christmas party, but I wanted to say hi real quick and see where you are right now.
Instead of texting back, his mother called him, so he ended up talking with her for almost an hour. Of course, she asked him if he was seeing anybody yet.
“I’ve been mostly focused on getting my business off the ground,” he said, which wasn’t really accurate. The ratio of focus on his business and focus on Zoe was definitely skewed in Zoe’s favor.
He was relieved when the conversation turned to the holidays, and he reassured his mother for the umpteenth time that yes, he knew they’d always wanted to experience Christmas in Hawaii and he was totally okay with waiting until the new year to see them. Then he noticed the time and realized he was running slightly later than the fashionably late he’d been shooting for.
“I need to get going, Mom. Tell Dad I said hi and I love him.”
“We love you. Enjoy the party and keep your eye out for a nice woman to date. I hate that you’re alone.”
Two hours of socializing later, Preston found himself unable to stop looking at Zoe. And he really needed to stop.
He also needed to stop drinking the festively colored punch that had a hell of a lot more than fruit juice and raspberry sherbet in it.
His phone vibrated and, since he’d left his smart watch home on the charger, he pulled it out of his pocket. Whoever sent the text wasn’t in his contacts list, so the sender info was just a phone number. But the text message itself made him suck in a sharp breath.
Are you just going to watch me all night or are you going to come talk to me?
Chapter Seven
Zoe was playing with fire. She knew it, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She’d been watching him, too, and she knew he was probably starting to feel the effects of Abe’s holiday punch. There was a reason she sipped it slowly.
He walked across the room to her, phone still in his hand. The heat in his eyes burned through her, erasing her lingering guilt about getting his number out of her granddad, and she smiled up at him when he finally reached the quiet corner she’d managed to park herself in.
