“I know,” Jason said. “I think about that a lot. One thing ended so another could start.”
After dinner, Reese excused herself to use the restroom. Roan went to the bar to say hello to two of his clients, leaving Jason and Mauve alone in the booth.
The noise of the restaurant seemed to recede.
Mauve turned her wine glass slowly on the table. “Should we talk about what we’re doing? Rules? Like we did in L.A.?”
He nodded. “I guess we should.”
“We’re just having fun. Enjoying each other. No expectations or strings.”
“Agreed,” Jason said.
She picked up her wine glass and took a slow sip before setting it down again. “Even though it might hurt when you go?”
“You mean the more time we spend together, the harder it is to say goodbye?”
Her eyes flew open. “Do you mean that?”
“How could I not? You’re … beguiling. It’s not my fault.”
She laughed. “Okay, Hollywood.”
“Even though I know it’ll hurt to go, I want every moment I can with you. If that’s what you want too?”
“Like a month of the most incredible Christmas ever?”
“Yeah, like that,” Jason said.
“Doing all the Christmas things?”
“As only Sugarville can do them.”
She gave him a shy smile. “I guess we can do that.”
Roan reappeared with his jacket on, clearly unaware of how intimately they were talking. “Ready? It’s supposed to snow tonight, and I don’t want to get caught in it.”
“I don’t blame you after what happened last year at the gala,” Mauve said.
“Right?” Roan asked. “When I thought I was going to die before giving the love of my life a ring?”
“Thank goodness that didn’t happen,” Reese said, appearing at the table, also in her coat.
They all walked to the parking lot together. Reese hugged Mauve goodbye and headed to the car with Roan, which left Jason standing with Mauve beside her car in the cold night. She looked up at him and for a moment neither of them moved. Theparking lot lights caught the straw-hued highlights in her hair. Snow had just started to fall, the lightest dusting, barely visible.
He wanted to kiss her. He wanted it so badly his chest ached.
Instead, he reached out and brushed a snowflake off her shoulder. “A month of Christmas—you and me, huh?”
“One magical month,” Mauve said.
“Will there be kissing in this magical month?”
“Not tonight.” She grinned. “With half the town watching from the windows of The Moose.”
“But maybe tomorrow?”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
