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“Here. Have some of mine.”
I glanced at the monumental tower of whipped cream, chocolate shavings, and ribbons of caramel with three brightly striped straws and two spoons sticking out of it. “No, thanks. I don’t want your germs.”
He rolled his eyes. “I haven’t even taken a sip yet.”
A stray memory of high school and a time when I desperately wanted his germs assailed me. I pushed it aside. “In that case.” I grabbed one of the straws and took a big sip. It was beyond delicious. I’d never tasted frozen hot chocolate before. I was amazed how it somehow still tasted like hot chocolate even though it was icy and cold. I picked up a spoon and tunneled into the giant mound of caramel-streaked whipped cream. I slid my mug of hot chocolate over to Josh.
“Hey!” he protested, laughing.
“Your plan worked too well.” I made a show of licking my spoon. “I’m not giving this back. I’m in love.” My mouth clamped down too late on the word I should never have used in Josh’s company, even in reference to something this delicious.
“If only,” Josh murmured under his breath.
“What?”
His gaze snapped to mine. “Nothing. Are you going to steal my entire frozen hot chocolate, or will I eventually get a taste?”
I scooted the dish an inch in his direction. “You can have a taste. But you’ll definitely be getting my germs.”
“Should I worry?”
“Definitely. My germs are American. They don’t like your British germs.”
“Haven’t you heard? America and England are allies.”
I shrugged. “They are now, but maybe your memory is bad. They were once at war, and it was a very big deal.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on mine. “That was a long time ago. Now they’re friends. Maybe more.”
I shivered and not because of my frozen hot chocolate. “I’ve got to go. I just remembered. And like I said before! I’ve really got to go.” My suddenly frantic fingers pulled a twenty from my wallet and set it on the table.
“Hey, Margot! Wait!” Josh’s voice followed me as I dashed for the door, but I didn’t stop.
America and England weren’t at war, but with their history, it was impossible to think they could ever be more than friends.
Chapter Ten
Idecided to distract myself from Josh and his confusing bodyguarding ways and shop until it was time to meet Tanner for dinner. My family wasn’t doing Christmas presents, but I wanted to get some gifts for my friends back home. Of course I went to my new favorite store—Bainbridge’s.
After a couple of hours among the season-panicked shoppers, I found something for everyone on my list and even had the presents gift wrapped and delivered to the hotel. I’d just started thinking about heading over to the Corner Bistro a few minutes early when Faye appeared next to my elbow.
“Margot, dear! So lovely to see you!” She held her arms out as if presenting me.
I beamed at her, almost as happy to see her as I was to leave for my date with my future soulmate. Like Pavlov’s conditioned dogs, somehow I’d associated seeing Faye with seeing Tanner, and I was ready to get to the reward stage of my behavioral training. “It’s great to see you too, Faye. How’s your day been?”
“Just wonderful, thank you. It’s so sweet of you to ask. Are you shopping, or are you here to see Tanner?”
I moved aside so a heavily bundled-up woman could grab a pair of leather gloves from a display table behind me. “Oh, well, I just finished my shopping and now I’m headed over to the Corner Bistro to have dinner with Tanner.”
Faye smiled. “How nice! He’s still here, though. I just saw him. Maybe you two would like to walk over together.”
I glanced in the direction of his window display, knowing he must be busy doing whatever else it was he did in the store if he was still working. “I don’t want to bother him. I’ll just see him at dinner.”
“Nonsense.” She looped her arm through mine and steered us expertly around a tangle of bargain hunters at the clearance table. “He’ll be delighted to see you.”
We were through seasonal items and halfway past menswear when Tanner emerged from the crowd.
“Margot!” He was already wearing a coat and scarf and looked ready to brave the short walk in the cold.
