Page 4 of Big Mistletoe

I tighten my hold on the pad of paper in my hand. “Wait, you wanna pick me up… to see my proposal?”

He blows out a breath and then brings his hand up and rubs the scruff on his chin. “Joy.”

I lick my lips. The sound of my name on his lips does something to me that I’m not ready to look into. “Yeah?”

He tilts his head to the side and searches my face. I’m stunned by his next question. “How old are you?”

I tense. Okay, this is not normal, right? Never in as long as I’ve had Holly Holidays has a client asked me how old I am. “I’m twenty-four.”

His frown deepens, and I point at him. “What’s that look? What is that?”

He puts a hand to his chest, right over his heart. “I’m thirty-five. Eleven years older than you.”

My eyes widen. Where is he going with this? “Okay. And that’s important because?”

He clicks his tongue. “Because I’m interested in dating you.”

I stutter over the words. “Dating me?” I point to my chest. “You want to go on a date with me?”

He nods. “Yes. Let me take you to lunch tomorrow. We can get to know each other.”

I can feel the panic rising in my chest. “Uh, I don’t usually date clients.”

He takes another step forward, and his manly, outdoor scent envelops me. “Make an exception for me.”

I stare up at him, biting my lip, knowing the right answer, but I can’t bring myself to say it.

Before I can say anything, he lifts his hand and brushes his thumb across my lip where I’m biting it and smooths it. When his finger dips onto my teeth, I don’t know what comes over me because I playfully nip at him, and then my mouth falls open. He pulls his hand back, and I can tell he’s just as surprised as I am.

I put my hands over my mouth and shake my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

I try to walk past him, but he puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me. “Hey, it’s okay. I liked it.”

I feel that straight to my core. “Uh… so lunch tomorrow. We’ll go over my proposal, and you can approve it or⁠—”

He nods with a smile. “I’ll approve it.”

I shake my head. “You don’t know that. You may hate the ideas I have.”

He is looking straight into my eyes. “Not possible.”

I suck in a breath. “What kind of budget do you have?”

He plants his feet and crosses his arms over his chest. “Whatever you want it to be.”

I stare up at him and blurt out, “Well, that’s ridiculous.”

He shrugs. “You don’t seem like the type to take advantage.”

I assure him, “I’m not.”

He shrugs. “Right, so whatever you come up with will be okay.”

I throw a hand up in the air. This is super frustrating, and I don’t know why. He seems like a dream client. I can create my own ideas, and he’s not giving me a budget, but it doesn’t feel right.

Before I can argue any further, he leans down to look into my eyes. “Just so we’re clear. I wanna date you. I’m taking you to lunch tomorrow for our first date.”

I lift my chin. “What if I don’t want to go on a date with you?”