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Connor stopped in his tracks and so did she. They turned to each other and he gently brushed her hair away from her forehead, studying her face like he hadn’t seen it in a million years, and was afraid he wouldn’t see it again for a million more.
Fog swirled around them, making Luna feel like the two of them were encased in an impenetrable cocoon. The only two people in their own little world.
When he answered her, his voice was low and intimate, which did absolutely nothing to break the spell that had been cast around them. In fact, it only strengthened it. “What I really want to know,” he rasped, “is not when you’re leaving. It’s what’s going to happen between us after you do.”
Oh, God. Well, that was the big question, wasn’t it? Too bad she didn’t have a very good answer.
She opened her mouth to speak…to say something, anything, that might let him know that she wondered that, too. That it kept popping into her mind, the same as it did to his.
But nothing came out. No words, no sound.
She snapped her mouth closed. She could do nothing but heave a huge sigh, which was exactly what she did.
Stepping forward, she leaned her head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.
“Sorry,” he said wryly. “I was pushing. I get it. Which was maybe what scared you away the first time?”
His self-deprecating comment brought back her power of speech. “No,” she corrected him with a bitter little chuckle. “It wasn’t that you put on too much pressure. I was just too scared of disappointing my grandparents to stand up for what I really wanted. So…basically, I was chickenshit.”
He laughed. “I’d argue with that, but I can’t lie. I kind of like the sound of it.”
She stood on tiptoe to give him a soft kiss on the lips.
They started walking again, but this time he slid his arm around her shoulder as they did. “I tell you what. Let’s do this: just focus on the time between now and Christmas. Let’s pretend there is no future. The future doesn’t exist. It’s just us, here, together, enjoying the holiday season.”
“I like that idea,” she agreed. “It’s sort of a Christmas Miracle kind of a thing.”
“Well, it’s no virgin birth, but it’s a plan,” he teased, and she gave him a playful smack.
“It is a plan,” she agreed. “A great plan, in fact. And I predict that we’ll be having a pretty merry Christmas this year.”
