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His lips tipped up. “I’d like to find out.”
I stepped back and headed for the gazebo, but he caught up to me at the large oak tree and stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Is that so hard to believe?” he asked.
“What? That you want to get to know me?”
He nodded.
“Yes, actually. You’ve got the keys to your shiny ride. What’s keeping you here?”
“You. Ever since I joined you under that mistletoe.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
I shook my head. “I’m not the girl who—”
“Has fun?”
I blinked. There wasn’t an easy answer for that. I worked. I saved. I focused on the future. On finally doing something I loved and was good at. That was my idea of fun. Being stable for the first time in my life. I never wanted for money because I’d learned to budget from a very young age—because I ‘d had to or I went hungry.
Fun wasn’t part of my life.
“Take a chance on me. With an open mind and—”
“Legs?”
“Why Miss Lawton, that’s positively scandalous.”
I frowned. “How do you know my last name?”
“The very helpful Mrs. Gunderson. She gave me the skinny on most of the town. I didn’t know about the famous rockstar though.”
“He doesn’t live here. His best friend does, so we see him from time to time.”
“Such a peculiar little town.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
He took my hand again. “Your hands are ice.” He took my other one and sandwiched it between both of his. He brought them up to his mouth and blew into the cup he’d made around them. “Pretty sure it’s not the only thing thing that’s icy.”
I stiffened.
“Don’t get your back up. Just give me a chance. You’ve already made up your mind about what we are. And if that’s really how you feel, I’ll walk away. I’ll hate it, and I’ll always wonder what if, but I’ll respect your wishes, Ellie. Always.”
Seven
In the distance, a cheery bit of bells and drums had a small crowd singing along. I braced for the brush off as a guy doing a fair impression of Michael Bublé sang “Please Come Home For Christmas”.
Ellie had been looking for reasons to kill our date since we’d been interrupted by Dare. Hell, she’d been looking for a way out before then too, but at least then I’d had a chance. Now she was just searching for a reason to give me the boot.
Couldn’t she feel what was between us? Was it all on my side? I’d been attracted to plenty of women over the years. Some I acted on, some didn’t live up to the initial spark, and still others were lost opportunities.
I really didn’t want this to be the latter.
I curled my larger fingers around hers, but I didn’t grip tight. If she wanted to slip away, I’d deal with it. Probably with some pretty strong whisky—the Scottish kind. I was like my father in that regard. Sometimes all you could do was let a smooth Doublewood take care of your problems. As long as it only lasted a day or so.
Maybe a week for this woman.
