“You’re surprisingly good at navigating my family’s nonsense,” I say after introducing him for what felt like the fiftieth time.
“Pivoting and going with the flow is part of what I do. And this is a lot more enjoyable.” He holds up the cup he’s been sipping from. “Plus, there’s hot chocolate with candy canes in it. I had no idea I was missing out.”
“Wait until you get one of Mrs. Johnson’s snickerdoodles. They make you feel so good, Jace actually had them tested for drugs three years ago.” When he stops walking to look at me, I laugh. “They were clean. They’re just that good, apparently.”
Before we get to the Santa Fund’s bake sale, where Mrs. Johnson’s snickerdoodles reign supreme, though, we pass by the small park where Santa’s holding court in the massive wooden sleigh.
“You should sit in the sleigh and tell Santa what you want for Christmas,” I say, and I’m rewarded with that stern frown I find a little sexy.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because it’s a fun tradition and I get the feeling you could use more fun in your life.”
He snorts. “Now you sound like my mother.”
And there’s my in. “I bet getting a picture of you with Santa would not only prove to your mom you can have fun, but it would cheer her up.”
“It’s ridiculous.”
“That’s why she’ll love it.” Even though he’s shaking his head, I can tell he’s considering it. “It’ll make her laugh.”
“You’re right.”
I take his hand to pull him into the line, and he doesn’t let it go. The feel of our fingers locked together thrills me, and I don’t even care that a lot of my neighbors will notice and probably be talking about it for weeks to come.
Let them talk.
When it’s our turn, he looks like he’s going to back out, but I release his hand and give him a little push. He’s a good sport about it and when I hold my phone up to take the picture, he leans close to the town’s Santa and gives me a grin that’s entirely too naughty considering the situation.
“Get in with him and I’ll take your picture,” I hear Lyla say.
I hadn’t realized she was nearby and I turn to her, about to laugh off her comment. I don’t need my entire family getting ideas in their head about Donovan and me. I have plenty of ideas of my own.
“Come on, Natalie,” Donovan calls. “Come tell me and Santa what you want for Christmas.”
I can’t say no to him. I hand Lyla my phone and climb into the sleigh. Then I awkwardly climb over Donovan’s lap to sit between him and Santa. Donovan puts his arm around me, pulling me close, and our gazes lock.
“I asked Santa for more of that hot cocoa,” he whispers, and we both laugh.
“Got it,” Lyla calls.
“We hadn’t even looked at the camera yet,” I say, and she holds up the phone even though I can’t see the picture from the sleigh.
“It’s perfect,” she insists.
I want to argue, but the Dillon twins are jumping up and down, unable to contain their excitement at being next to talk to Santa. Donovan climbs down first so he can help me. I expect him to take my hands just for balance, but he wraps his hands around my waist and lifts me off the sleigh. Instinctively, I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself.
My feet hit the ground without me breaking eye contact with him, which means I’m looking up. We’re definitely in kissing range. Just a little stretch up onto my toes and our mouths would touch.
One of the Dillon twins bumps me in his rush to get to the sleigh and the spell is broken.
When I turn to retrieve my phone, Lyla’s looking at me in a way that suggests I’m going to have to explain what’s going on between me and Donovan in the very near future.
She hands me my phone. “Mom says Erin needs the rest of the popcorn at the library and I promised the girls I’d take them through the candy cane maze.”
“I’ll get it. Thanks for this.”
After she’s gone, I pull up the pictures on my phone. The one of Donovan and Santa is just as fun as I’d hoped, but the one Lyla took of the two of us takes my breath away.
