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"It's my pleasure, angel." I hadn't meant to call her that, but I don't regret it. She tilts her head to the side, her cheeks turning the cutest shade of pink. "Oh, before I forget, I have something for you."
"No, really, you've already done too much already," she protests. Little does she know I want to do so much more. I want to move them in with me and take care of them in every single way.
"Be right back," I say with a grin, jogging to my car that's parked across the row. "Fresh baked from the infamous Mable Thatcher herself."
"Cookie!" Carson exclaims.
“Oh, my gosh, this is perfect!” she says joyfully. “I didn’t get my hot chocolate earlier because… right, I already told you. I’m sorry I’m such a--”
“Call yourself a mess one more time, angel, and I’ll have to punish you.” I didn’t mean to growl the words, or hell, to even say them out loud. The way Melissa licks her lips, however, has me biting back a groan.
“Cookie!” Carson buts in, letting us know he’s run out of what little patience he has.
Melissa smiles at him, breaking off a piece of the cookie and handing it to him. "You can have the rest after dinner." He pouts, but then quickly gets over his disappointment when he shoves the cookie in his mouth. I'm pretty sure most of it landed on his shirt in crumbs, but he doesn't seem to mind.
"Well, thanks again. God, that's all I can seem to say around you. You're going to spoil us." Melissa tucks some of her beautiful chestnut hair behind her ear and then smiles sweetly at me.
Once again, my hand moves on its own, this time cupping the side of her face. She leans into my touch, which pleases me to no end. "You deserve to be spoiled. Both you and Carson." Melissa holds my gaze but then darts her eyes away. Reluctantly, I remove my hand, sensing that the moment is too much for her.
"Okay, so… I guess I should go," she murmurs, her voice trailing off at the end.
"Can I take you out for dinner?" I blurt out. I was so caught up in being in her presence, I almost forgot to lock down some sort of date.
"Uh…"
Dammit. Too much too soon. I try a different tactic. "Are you guys going to the Gingerbread Bake Off on Saturday?"
"You know we'd never hear the end of it from your grandma if we missed it."
Thank you, Grams, you pushy, stubborn woman,I think to myself.
"Great. I hope to see you there."
Melissa nods and blushes again before getting into her car. I watch her and Carson drive off, feeling the loss of them deep in my bones. I also feel hope. I'm going to see her in two days. I can wait that long. I think.
Something catches my eye. I turn my head just in time to see a shadowy figure duck into a car a few spots away from mine. The vehicle backs out and drives by me. The man inside stares at me like he's sizing me up, before speeding away. I've never seen him before, but I instantly don't like him. His dark brown eyes and scowl put me on edge. I'll have to ask Grams about him.
I head back to my car, already planning how I can woo my woman. I was a fumbling mess today, but at least I got her to smile. It feels like a huge win. I plan on making her smile a lot more, and soon.
CHAPTER THREE
MELISSA
He has tattoos.
I didn't see them the first time we met since he was wearing a coat, not to mention I was falling apart, but I certainly saw them when we ran into each other at the supermarket.
I can't help but wonder how far that ink goes up his arms. Does he have a canvas of artwork on his chest? Are there tattoos on his back as well? That seems to be the only thing I've been able to think about these last two days. Well, that and his sculpted arms and the way his t-shirt stretched across his broad chest. Oh, and his sexy smirk. And his blue eyes. And his lips that look surprisingly soft, considering the rest of him is carved out of freaking marble.
But I'm not looking for a man, and especially not one who has heartbreak written all over him. My stupid heart doesn't seem to care about breaking, though. It keeps reminding me that he was so good to Carson and me the day of the daycare fiasco, and again at the grocery store. Drake seems sweet, which is odd, considering his imposing stature, intense stare, and those damn tattoos I want to lick.
Stop. It. Right. Now.
It's no use. I know I won't stop obsessing over him. Especially since I'm pulling into the parking lot in front of Town Hall, where the Gingerbread Bake Off is being held. My stomach flips, partly from nerves and partly from the strongest desire I've ever felt in my life. I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans before unloading Carson and walking into Town Hall.
I'm hit with the sweet, spicy, earthy scent of gingerbread. The big meeting space has been transformed into a veritable winter wonderland. There are four Christmas trees in total, one in each corner of the room. One has a gold theme, another silver, then red, and finally green. Garlands and colored lights have been hung with the utmost care all around the room, along with snowflakes cut from sheets of white, gray, and blue paper.
This town sure takes the holidays seriously, and I'm not complaining one bit. In fact, it's the whole reason I dragged my sister half-way across the country to live here. I needed some Christmas joy in my life after it all blew up three years ago. This place has provided that and so much more.
