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"I'm not a dog person, I'm a cat person."
Confused, I tilted my head. "You never even had a cat."
"What about Boots?"
I gasped. "Boots is my cat!"
"Five days out of the week, sure. But didn't you ever wonder where she went for the other two? She'd come to the back door yowling for me, and I'd give her milk in a saucer, and she'd lap it up."
"That doesn't make her your cat!"
"That's what I love about cats. They don't really belong to anybody except when they want to. They're independent divas, kind of like you. You've gotta earn your time with them. And I think I've earned a light show."
I stared him a moment, our lips a breath apart, and the fight went out of me. All I could muster was a weak, "But it's not a date."
"We're just hanging out," he said, with a grin.
I didn't begrudge him. Not even when, later that night, strolling past twinkling displays of candles and heavenly spires in the park, he took my hand. I made him pay for it, of course. Telling him all about what I'd learned about stage lighting.
We talked plays. Tanks. Basketball. Pretty much everything. The conversation pinging back and forth until he drove me back to my car in the parking lot of the Sweet Shack and we lingered after our goodnight kiss. "So, Becca. You asked before why I'm single. There's not a lot of time for relationships in the Sandbox, but mostly…the girls I've dated never measured up to you."
I peered up at him suspiciously. "I realize that Mean-Girl Maureen is a really low bar, but you really shouldn't lay it on that thick. Until the past few days, you hardly even knew me."
"Not true. I've always known you were a badass chick with a fierce sense of self who never took shit from anybody. You did your own thing and didn't care what anybody else thought about it. That was catnip for a teenaged boy. It's just as addictive now. Just because I'm cautious and careful doesn't mean I can't admire courage when I see it."
I snorted a little bit. "You're a soldier and you think I've got courage?"
"Big time. For one thing, you get on stages and perform while e
verybody is watching. For another thing, you were brave enough to tell me your fantasy…and that took some brass ovaries. Pretty soon we're going to see if you're brave enough to play it out."
Chapter Four
TONIGHT'S THE NIGHT FOR REINDEER GAMES. I'LL PICK YOU UP AT 7:30PM. BRING THE BOX AND ALL YOUR SEXUAL FANTASIES WITH YOU.
I received this text from Ben while helping my mom bake her famous buttery pecan pie. We always needed at least three pies. One to give to the neighbors. One for Christmas Eve at Grandma's. And one for Christmas Day at our house for just the two of us.
I'd been on chopping duty and was supposed to keep an eye on the oven to take the first pie out when it achieved its perfect golden-brown crust.
Unfortunately, I scented the faint trace of smoke in the air just before my mom called out, "Becca! You're going to let it burn."
"Sorry," I said, quickly slipping my phone into my back pocket, wondering how long I'd been staring at it . "I—I got distracted."
"You're forgiven," mom said, fishing the pie out of the oven with big red mitts. "You've been so helpful this Christmas. And you really are an excellent little actress, because you've even pretended to be in good spirits about it."
I had been in good spirits. I'd cheerfully helped with baking and wrapping, all while humming Christmas songs. Which wasn't like me at all. I wasn't sure what this thing with Ben was doing to me—riding that edge between sappy romance and down and dirty filth—but it was doing something.
It was driving me insane, is what it was doing.
Which is why I blurted, "Mom, you don't mind if I go out with Ben tonight, do you?"
I guess I wasn't the only actress in the family, because I watched my mom smother her excitement behind a casual shrug. "Where are you going?"
"Caroling," I said, tapping into my inner snark.
My reward was my mother's snark in return. "As long as you're home in time to help me pack the car for Grandma's house tomorrow morning."
"Mom!" I was a little outraged at her implication that I'd be spending the night with him. Then I was doubly embarrassed to realize that I was planning on doing something way worse than spend the night with him.
