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“My plans for Christmas Eve just took off with your ride. I’ve been stood up.”
His dark brows draw forward. “What about your family?”
“Flying in tomorrow morning. Stormy and I were going to decorate their house tonight so it was ready for tomorrow, but now I’m on my own.”
“No boyfriend?”
“Really? We’re engaged, and you ask me this now? No.”
There was a guy, but to call him a boyfriend would have been a stretch. And after a few uninspiring dates, I knew there wasn’t anything there. Truth is, I’ve got more of a connection with Noel after an hour than I had with Richie after a month.
Not that I think it’s going anywhere.
It’s clear that Noel is a relentless flirt, but it’s just as clear he’s not serious when he does it. The guy plays for the Slayers. Something tells me he could have a date before I could snap my fingers. Not just any date, either. Probably a model. Someone who only uses one name.
“How about you? Girlfriend?” If she’s on a shoot or based out of Paris, it would explain why he isn’t with her for Christmas Eve. I know better than to assume.
When he shakes his head, that smile going a little lopsided, I can’t help it.
“What was your last girlfriend’s name?”
“Patty.” He leans in conspiratorially. “Why, planning to check my references?”
“Please.” Patty is not a supermodel’s name. I don’t think. Whatever. “Just figured it was probably one of your challenge-turned-getting-to-know-you questions. And if we’re going to be hanging out, we might as well be friends.”
He gives me a slow nod, his smile spreading. “I like it.”
“Good, then what do you say we get started?”
“What do you wanna do first?”
“I want to get a tree.” I wave over to my Chia Tree with its little red light-up star next to the coffee maker. “This guy is cute, but I want the real deal.”
There’s a strange glint in Noel’s eyes. “A live tree?”
“We always cut one down with my parents, but the tree farm is almost an hour from here. This year they were just talking about getting something small at a local stand. But if you’re game, we could drive out and—”
And that’s as far as I get before Noel is whipping his coat on and grabbing mine to help me into it. Rubbing his hands together, he presses a quick, grinning kiss to my cheek. What a flirt!
“Let’s do this!”
3
Misty
He’s a puppy.
A huge, six-foot-something, gotta-be-two-hundred-pounds-of-pure-muscle puppy, running back and forth between the shack where we picked up the saw, the tree shaker, and the baler in the front lot of Falter’s Trees like he doesn’t know what to play with first.
“They have hayrides!” he calls, pointing to where a couple families with small kids are climbing down near the shop.
I laugh, trying to imagine what this guy must have been like as a kid. Because as an adult, he’s over-the-top excited. He’s ridiculous. And cute and fun and—
God, I am not catching feelings for thisplayer.
Sure, talking to him is astonishingly easy considering we just met this morning. And not just about the getting-to-know-you trivia and off-the-wall assertations of love and marriage, either, though that’s definitely fun. Even when he’s leaning over my seat, promising it to the woman at the drive-thru if she’ll hold the mayo on his sandwich.
But thereal stuff— the parts where we talked about what it’s like being the new guy on the team, how Stormy’s plans to move to Seattle are making me question my own plans, and how intimidating it can be as a player to know that theifandwhenof whether he moves is decided by someone other than him… Those quiet truths that don’t come easy with anyone, let alone virtual strangers, seem to come as naturally as breathing between the two of us.
