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“Yeah, I do.” I take a deep breath, letting it out slow. “But I want you to know, spending today with you has been incredible. It meant a lot to me. So, thank you.” I press a kiss to her cheek before stepping back to order a car.
A minute later, my gut knots, and I mumble a quiet, “Fuck.”
Not quiet enough.
“What’s the matter?” Only, Misty doesn’t give me a minute to answer before she’s bouncing at my side, her hands at my arm as she peeks at my phone. “No cars because of the snow?” she sings, not even trying to sound disappointed for me. “Now you have to stay!”
And man, maybe that’s just what I needed, because I’d rather walk barefoot back to the city than endure another pity-invite Christmas like the ones after my parents died.
But there’s no pity in those pretty evergreen eyes peering up at me. “Look, my parents aren’t supposed to be here until noon, and while they’d love for you to stay, if you want to skate out before they get here, you’ll have plenty of time. But for tonight, why spend Christmas Eve alone when we could be together—” She cuts herself off and shifts uncomfortably. “Like hanging out together. Nottogethertogether,” she finishes in a rush that makes me smile.
“You talkin’ about a sleepover, Mistletoe?”
Her brows shoot high. “We’ve got sleeping bags. And the way we moved the furniture away from the fireplace, there’s plenty of room on the rug.”
I shouldn’t even be thinking about it. But Misty’s got her hands folded together at her chest like some hopeful little kid. “You sure?”
“Yes! Okay, let’s talk Christmas movies, because we’re watching one.”
5
Misty
Noel agreed to stay, and now, as absurd as it seems, we’re having a sleepover on the floor in front of the fire tonight. And more important than me getting more time with this man I’m not ready to give up, Noel isn’t going to spend Christmas Eve alone. Neither of us will.
“How’s it look now?” Noel asks, arm stuck in the tree up to his shoulder.
“Perfect.” I take a picture and set my phone aside to grab a cracker off the charcuterie board we made from goodies found in my foodie mother’s pantry and freezer.
Noel’s already eaten three of the merlot-flavored dried salami croissant sandwiches I’ve made him, each one vanishing within a bite or two and eliciting this grateful masculine moan that stirs thoughts I’m not sure I should be thinking.
When I’ve assembled another sandwich for him, I turn back and stop.
“Um, Noel, what’s going on with your hair?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
His hair is pretty great. It’s dark and thick and falling in loose curls around his face. Except for the two spots where it’s sticking out like branches from the top of the tree. “I think you’ve got some sap in your hair.” And by some, I mean a lot.
That lopsided smile tips in the other direction as he feels around his head, then folds altogether when he finds the clump.
“Shit.”
I wave for him to follow me into the kitchen and then point to a chair. “Bring that over here and sit down. The soap probably won’t do it, but I think I read something about mayonnaise, or oil. Or maybe it was nail polish remover.”
“In myhair? Duringthe season?”
Oh my God, the look on this guy’s face.
“Wow. Easy there, big fella. Let me search it. But first—” I snap my fingers for the chair again, and after a beat, he pulls it over by the sink and sits while I scroll results. “Ooh, lemon essential oil!”
Peeking past my phone, I ask, “That okay for your precious tresses, or will the whole of Chicago’s Slayers fans suffer for me even suggesting such a thing?”
He shifts in the seat, heavy cheekbones tinged red. Which is so criminally cute, it gives me another one of those unfamiliar pangs in my chest. The kind I probably shouldn’t be feeling for this man whose flirt knows no bounds.
“Teasing,” I say, ducking into the pantry and searching the shelves until I find what I’m looking for. “Looks like the only essential oils she has are holiday blends. But I’m betting they’ll still work.” When I get back, Noel is tugging his shirt overhead, exposing the deep-stacked muscles of his abdomen, hard slabs of his pecs, and then those incredible shoulders.
I trip on my next step, scowling when he gives me a knowing smirk.
