Page 21 of Wait a HO HO HO Second!

That’s when he realized she was going down. Off-kilter, her arms pinwheeled as her feet slipped out from under her. “Joy!” The word landed at the same time his arms did as he pulled her up and into him, keeping her from hitting the ground headfirst. “You’re okay.”

The way she gazed up at him with those green eyes was his undoing. Was he aware of all the people in the parking lot pretending they weren’t watching them, but were? Yes. Did he care? No, because right now, there was no one else in the world but him and her. He pushed her back into the shadows and rested his forehead against hers. She was cold, and a bit wet from a snowball that had landed on her hat.

“If I could, I’d kiss you right now,” he whispered, so close to her lips he could set his down on hers in a breath. He held back because he didn’t want to die an early death for kissing Joy Brady without permission.

“Kiss me? My last recollection was ‘I mean, sure, someone will like you someday. Maybe. Statistically.’”

“Ever think that maybe that line was more of a premonition than an insult? That I was already dreaming of kissing you?”

Joy’s snort of laughter made him smile. “That definitely crossed my mind when you spewed your hatred. ‘Oh, he’s just so into me.’ It warmed me from head to toe to know the school bully said those things to hide his infatuation with me.”

Kian said nothing, just held her gaze, hoping she could see the truth in his eyes. “What if I were infatuated with you?”

“Then your execution was poor,” she whispered.

“Can I get a mulligan?” he asked, his voice soft as he gazed into her eyes.

“I have to learn to trust you first, Kian.”

“Are you? Learning, that is.”

She tipped her head in agreement and sighed. “I hate how easy it is to trust you these days, which makes it hard to believe that what I’m feeling is real.”

Smiling, he kissed her forehead. He couldn’t resist inhaling, loving the scent of fresh pine and something intrinsically Joy. “That was quite a sentence.”

“I apologize for the word salad,” she whispered, unable to meet his gaze. “What I mean is, I can’t decide whether what I’m feeling is trust or whether I’m being distracted by this strange electric connection between us.”

“Maybe it can be both?”

This time, when Joy looked up, Kian saw how much she wanted it to be true, which surprised the hell out of him. That little boy in him, who kept begging for forgiveness, fell quiet for a moment as he waited for her answer.

“Maybe it can be,” she agreed. Then she did something he never could have predicted when he walked into the mall an hour earlier. Joy Brady pressed her lips to his for a brief moment, then turned, picked up her crutches, and walked back inside, leaving him to watch her go and wonder when he’d wake from this dream. When a snowball hit his back and the group behind him started heckling, the cold spot on his back told him it wasn’t a dream. Joy Brady had just kissed him and walked away.

“Hey, Joy,” he called, and she stopped and turned to look at him.

“Santa Supper?”

All she did was nod before turning away, but that was all he needed. The little boy inside did an internal fist pump, then Kian turned and jogged across the parking lot. Maybe he’d get that mulligan after all.

15

#Roastbeast

Stuffed. That was the only word to describe Kian’s belly now that dinner was over. “Freya, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“I may have gotten carried away with the size of that roast,” she said, wrapping up the leftovers. “I hope you enjoy roast-beef sandwiches.”

“Love them,” he assured her. “Besides, I fully intend to have at least three more meals before I even consider sandwiches. Thank you for putting your heart and soul into tonight’s dinner.”

“It was my pleasure, Kian. I wanted to honor Miss Lorelei this year by ensuring her loss didn’t overshadow her love for the season.”

“She would be just as stuffed as I am if she were here.”

His mother loved Santa Supper, and he regretted not spending more than a handful of years attending them. She’d started it when he was in high school, inviting her managers over for dinner and fun before Santa arrived at the mall. He was invited to attend as a teenager, but he could always find something better to do, as teen boys will, than spend the evening with his mom and her friends. In hindsight, he wished he could go back to all those Santa Suppers, because he’d attend every single one.

“Go be with your friends,” Freya encouraged.

Kian nodded, his gaze fixed on Joy, who sat on the sofa, staring out the window. Marci and August were deep in conversation. He didn’t know what about, but he wouldn’t interrupt. He was more interested in what Joy was thinking. First, he checked his phone, relieved to see the text he’d been waiting for.