Page 36 of Christmas By The Book

But maybe scary stuff was the stuff worth doing. Maybe that was how you brought your magic to life, if you jumped into the stuff that frightened you, and didn’t let your fear get the better of you.

“Good,” he murmured back, his thumb tracing a soft line along my lower lip. “Because I know, too.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Seth

“SO, WHAT FOOD DO YOU have in here?” I called to her, as I made my way into the breakroom to root through whatever she might have had on her shelves.

“Uh, anything that you can make in a microwave, pretty much,” she called back. She was pulling some blankets out of the back. Haley had left them there, she’d explained to me, when she had started to get chilly manning the till on a long winter day. I was glad for it now, since we were going to be locked in here pretty much all night. I had been worried about Mia, but Jorja had assured me she had given her extra food that morning, knowing it would be a longer day than usual. Though, this long of a day, neither of us had expected.

The snow was piling up in the windows, but inside the store, it was pretty cozy. We had arranged a few heaters around a small loveseat that was usually set aside for customers wanting to test-run their new books before they left the store, and once we had some snacks, we would be set for the evening.

Our conversation earlier seemed to have clear the air between us, once and for all. I could see how hard it was for Jorja to believe that anyone would really want her the way I wanted her, but there was no doubt in my mind. When I looked at her, I saw the roots that I had been avoiding putting down for so long. Normally, when I was faced with the possibility of being in the same place for a long time, I found myself getting itchy, craving a chance to start over somewhere fresh. But, as we spent our first Christmas together—albeit not a planned one—I was already imagining what we could do next year. And the year after that, and after that...

She came through to the breakroom and opened the cupboard above the small sink. Inside, there were a few packets of ramen, some popcorn, and a couple of hot chocolate packets along with some instant milk. Not much, but it would do for tonight. Hopefully, we would be able to leave first thing in the morning—maybe back to her place, together. I liked the sound of that.

“Sorry it’s nothing special,” she remarked, pulling a face as she took down the packages from the cupboard.

“Don’t be silly,” I replied, grabbing them off of her. “It’s all about how you present them.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t know how much you can do in presenting ramen.”

“Then you’ve never had my ramen,” I replied, flashing her a grin. “Go on, sit down, let me whip up my specialty for you.”

She laughed, but did as she was told, perching on the edge of the counter so she could watch me as I worked.

“See, you have to really work in the flavor packets,” I told her seriously, like I was in the midst of narrating the cooking of a Michelin-starred meal. “That’s where a lot of people go wrong. They think you can just stir it into the broth—no, you need to really apply it with love.”

“And how exactly would someone do that?” she asked, playing along, cocking her head to the side with interest. Her hair fell into her face a little, and the sweet smile on her lips was so damn cute, it was hard not to let myself get a little distracted.

“Just watch and learn,” I instructed her, and she leaned back to watch me work. I continued to narrate it as I went, pretending like I was making her the most delicious gourmet dish as I put the ramen in the microwave, followed by the popcorn. I drizzled on a generous amount of the caramel topping, and then served up the ramen in a mug for her. It was far from a luxury experience, but better than eating it out of the plastic container it came in, at least.

“And here you go,” I told her, handing her the ramen. “Madam’s dinner.”

“It smells fantastic,” she replied. “Thank you.”

She went to take a bite of the ramen, and instantly dripped a little of the broth down her chin.

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m such a slob.”

I laughed, and reached out to wipe it away with my thumb. “It’s all right, so am I,” I replied.

“A model who’s a slob?” she asked, sounding a little confused. “I didn’t know you could find such a thing.”

“I only have to look good in the pictures, remember?” I reminded her. “The rest of the time, I can be as much of a mess as I like.”

“I guess so,” she agreed, giggling, and the two of us sat in the breakroom and ate our makeshift dinner together. It might not have been the fanciest food in the world, but eating it with her made me feel as though I was at the most exclusive club I’d ever attended. Her company was what made it special, the sound of her laughter filling the air around us as I cracked a few jokes.

She insisted on making us a hot chocolate to keep warm afterward, and we made our way to the blanket-laden loveseat, surrounded by heaters.

Beneath the blankets, she snuggled up next to me, so our shoulders were pressed together. We listened to the wind whistling outside, the snow flying this way and that beyond the window. It was like there was nothing else but the storm out there, and we were the only two people left on earth together.

“You ever get stranded here with your grandma?” I asked her, and she shook her head.

“No, she would never have let that happen,” she replied with a chuckle. “I think she would have had me trekking through the snow, even in this weather. She never liked to be away from her own bed for too long.”

“She sounds like a formidable woman,” I remarked, and she laughed.