Page 24 of Santa Baby

He gritted his teeth and glanced at his watch. “Did you sign me up for this, Fia?”

“Me? No. Of course not. I honestly hesitated before buying us matching sweaters because I knew you’d probably hate attention. The kissing booth is probably your worst nightmare as an introvert.”

“Am I an introvert? I have over five hundred employees.”

“Uh, yeah. You’re the definition of an introvert. If you look up the word in the dictionary, there’s a picture of you hiding out in your office twenty stories above the ground.”

“Is this the holiday spirit you mentioned?” he teased, giving me a hard nudge with his elbow.

“I’m not even in the spirit yet, honestly. Our scheme has been a little distracting.”

“Mr. O’Leary! And you must be Fia! Oh, I’ve been so excited to meet you all day long!” A very excited female voice split the air as a small blonde woman hurried in our direction. Dressed in a similar fashion, she had a Christmas-themed sweater and jeans on her slight frame.

Shelly Conway, the director of events for the library, clasped my free hand and shook it with enthusiasm, her cornflower blue eyes wide with excitement. “So, what do you think about the decorations? I took your advice about the flow of the booths, and I think it worked so well. You can hardly tell how many people are here right now!”

Shelly and I had been on the phone with each other multiple times over the last twenty-four hours, ever since I responded to an email about the mistletoe booth that Gabby had copied me on.

Shelly was what I’d call a Girl’s Girl. She only had eyes and ears for me right then, ignoring Mason completely as I went on and on about how warm the library felt, how it looked and smelled like every wonderful memory I’ve ever had about Christmas. She was lapping up my compliments.

“Fia, I don’t know where you came from or how you ended up here, but I don’t want you to leave. You have to come work at the library with us. We could use someone like you to help manage events throughout the year.”

I was shocked by the offer, unable to find the words to even say thank you or that I would think about it, but thankfully Mason had been paying attention to the conversation.

“We’ll be in contact,” he told her right before Shelly was called away about some calamity with the sound system downstairs where a dance competition would be taking place within the hour.

I let out a long breath, surprised by the invitation. It had been a long time since someone had complimented me on my event-planning skills. Then again, I hadn’t run too many events since things fell apart with Jake’s company. It felt good to help out and make a difference.

Mason checked his watch and closed his eyes like he was taking a moment to collect himself. “It’s almost time for my shift in the damn kissing booth. If I catch some disease⁠—”

“No one is going to be kissing you on the mouth!” I gave him a little shove toward the booth, where lucky old ladies would be spending ten dollars a pop to smudge his cheek with cherry red lipstick. He looked back at me with a squeamish expression. Poor, poor Mason. He was a big boy. He’d be fine. At least, I hoped.

He had a twenty-minute shift at the little booth with a strategically placed bundle of mistletoe hanging right over his head. I had a feeling standing around and watching my fake boyfriend get kisses from other women might make Mason even more uncomfortable than he already was, so I decided to make the rounds, stopping at the mistletoe-making booth his company funded for the event.

Little hands fumbled with the greenery as a group of parents with their young children cheerfully built their bundles. One couple in particular caught my attention. A man in a fine suit chuckled with his wife, who had a very tiny baby strapped to her chest as they built a bundle together. She was wearing Christmas tree earrings that lit up, but he was dressed in grey. Two total opposites madly in love.

For a moment, I felt like I was watching Mason and me. Me, with my flare and absolute adoration for the holidays, and Mason, doing everything in his power to like it too, just to make me happy.

But this couple wasn’t faking anything.

My fingers slipped over my own mistletoe bundle as I blinked, dropping out of the strange haze that had just settled over me. Why was it starting to feel like none of what we were doing together was fake anymore? I actually liked Mason a lot. I looked forward to seeing him. I looked forward to seeing his name flash across my phone screen when he called and sent me the most random texts I’d ever seen.

Earlier that morning, I had stepped out of the shower to a text from him that was nothing more than a picture of a pigeon carrying a Christmas ornament it’d likely stolen from one of the many luxury stores near his office. “You as a bird,” he’d said, and I’d laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes.

I found myself standing in line for the kissing booth without realizing my feet had brought me there. Mason did his best not to cringe as a gaggle of older women tittered around him like mice, peppering his face with lipstick. Mason was bright red but the jar on the table was so full of cash that it spilled over the rim.

“You’re going to have to wait a second,” he said, not realizing it was me now standing in front of him. He roughly wiped off the lipstick with a wet wipe and turned, raising his brows as he looked me up and down. “Sorry, lady, I don’t think you can afford me.”

I gave him a playful glare and slid his credit card out of my purse.

“Well played.”

“So do I get a kiss or not?”

“Do you want one?”

What was I doing? What were we doing, looking at each other like this? Our eyes locked and our gazes intense, like we were the only people in the library?

I did want a kiss but not on the cheek. My heartrate spiked in answer, my lips parting with the word yes dancing on my tongue, but then an announcement cut through the dizzying Christmas music, and Shelly’s voice filled my ears. “It’s time for the Mistletoe Dance Competition, brought to you by Heritage Spirits! Please join us on the first floor. The grand prize is a gift certificate to Gianni’s Pizzeria!”