Page 74 of Mistletoe All the Way

Chocolate oranges, come to papa. I blow out a breath, ready for it.

“Fruitcakes.”

Are you fucking kidding me? My eyes find Eloise across the crowd, and I mouth in horror, “Fruitcakes?”

Her expression is the picture of shock.

Of all the Christmas specialties in the land, I got a brick. Proof that I don’t hate Christmas so much as Christmas hates me.

Eloise nudges my biceps with her elbow. “Smile,” she whispers.

“I am,” I hiss out of the side of my mouth as hordes of Christmas shoppers steam by, entirely ignoring the fruit bricks we’re peddling from this stall in the middle of the market.

“No, that’s a ruler,” she says, right next to me in the booth that’s about the size of an airplane bathroom. “That thing you’re doing with your mouth. You’re doing this.”

She glowers, eyes narrowed, expression sour.

I scoff at her imitation. “I’m not doing that.”

“Don’t make me grab my phone and take a picture.”

“You love to take pictures,” I counter.

“I warned you,” she says, then like a goddamn superhero she’s holding up her phone and capturing me.

I lift a hand. “Wait. I didn’t get to smile.”

“You told me you were smiling,” she says, ever so innocently, then flicks to the screen and points. “See? That’s a frown.”

Damn. She’s right. I look downright menacing. All the more reason to tease her. “Admit it, that’s a good look though. You did want my number after all, that day at the diner.”

“When you were a dick,” she adds.

I arch a brow. “Was I a dick at the diner though?”

“I’d say you were.”

“Ouch,” I say, then peer over my shoulder. “Want to dig that knife in a little farther?”

“No. I think you can do that just fine yourself.”

“And yet, you can’t stop trying to kiss me.”

“You can’t stop trying to kiss me,” she hisses.

“Sorry not sorry. You’re irresistible even when you’re mean.”

“I’m not mean to anyone. Even you,” she tosses back.

I hold up a thumb and forefinger. “A little. You’re a little mean.”

“What does that say about your taste then?”

“It’s excellent. Just like yours.”

And… I walked into that since all at once I’m wondering about her taste in men. Who she’s dated before. What her story is. Who’s let her down. I shouldn’t want to know these things, especially since sparring with her ought to be enough.

And yet I want the sparring and the rest of it.