Page 136 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
He winks at me and shuts the lid. “That’s the kind of praise I like to hear. Now, tell me about this kiss again and how you think I was the one who made it more than a peck.”
I pick up the cups of eggnog and follow him out to the living room. He sets the cookies on the coffee table and then spreads a blanket on the floor. I join him and hand him one of the cups as we sit on the floor in front of the fireplace.
“You made it more of a peck because you opened your mouth, which is classified asdeepeningthe kiss.”
“According to whom?” he asks.
“Uh, everyone.”
“Great defense.” He laughs. “Well, I opened my mouth because you moaned.”
“Oh my God, I did not moan!” I scoot my legs underneath me and lean on one hand as I stare at the flames bouncing off his carved face.
“You did. People were talking about it the next day. The moan heard around the town.”
“Stop,” I say on a laugh. “That did not happen.”
“No, it didn’t. Maybe I imagined it and that’s why I opened my mouth.”
“Ah-ha, so you admit that you opened your mouth.”
“I mean…yeah, but you were the one who climbed on my lap last night. What I did was for show, what you did was for…well…your satisfaction.”
“Please, that kiss under the mistletoe was not just for show or else you wouldn’t have opened your mouth. And I climbed on your lap last night because you didn’t kiss me in the truck after we came home from Clayton.”
He opens the tin of cookies and sets them between us. We both reach for a cookie at the same time, and he playfully swats my hand away.
“Hey!”
He chuckles and hands me one.
After he takes a bite, he says, “In all honesty, I was nervous in the truck, sort of reeling after what happened, and stunned that, well…we were getting along. I was also hoping you wanted me to kiss you, but it felt like you blew me off, so…yeah.”
“That was self-preservation,” I say. “I was nervous about my feelings and was waiting for any indication from you that maybe you wanted more. I didn’t get one, so I just kind of brushed everything off as casual.”
“I see,” he says, sticking the rest of the cookie in his mouth. Honestly, I’m surprised he took a bite of it in the first place. I would have expected him to just pop the whole thing in his mouth. Maybe he likes to savor them like I do. “And what kind of sign were you looking for?”
I shrug. “You know, some body language. Some leaning in, anything to let me know that you weren’t disgusted by me.”
“Jesus,” he mutters. “I did not give off disgusted vibes.”
I smirk at him. “You didn’t, but still there wasn’t much of acome-hithervibe either.”
“You weren’t giving off that vibe either, not until last night when you sat on my lap.”
“Well, someone had to take action around here,” I reply.
“What about me opening my mouth under the mistletoe?”
“Oh, so now you want to take credit for moving things along for us?”
He chuckles. “When the timing is right, yeah, I do.”
“Absurd.”
Cole
The mood is right; the fire is blazing.
