Page 5 of Catching the Mistletoe

“Okay.” I wasn’t the most talkative guy at the best of times, but with Arabella, even less so.

“So, um, is that a yes?”

“Okay.”

“Great.”

Then we just stood there. Gazing at each other. Locked in a moment that felt like it could stretch on forever. Until she bit her lip, folded her arms across her chest. It was only when she let out a huff of frustration that I felt the spell break. “I guess you should come now, because they’ll be here in about fifteen minutes and Mom wants to do nibbles and pre-dinner drinks and shit.”

A simple nod was all I managed, too tangled up in my own thoughts to say more. Turning away, I pulled my coat from the hook next to the door and dragged it on. Then I moved forward to grab my boots from the porch, expecting her to step back. She didn’t. Our bodies almost collided, and for a fraction of a second, we were too close. Too close for comfort, but not close enough for what I actually wanted. I inhaled sharply, her scent filling my head—a mix of something floral and sweet.

Her eyes were wide, and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. “Sorry,” she muttered, stepping out of my way.

I didn’t say anything, but my blood hummed as I slid my boots on, that ever-present heat flaring to life at the slightest interaction with her.Stop it, asshole.“Let’s go.”

The air was crisp and clear, with the scent of wood smoke. The first stars of night were twinkling overhead. Arabella and I walked side by side, not speaking, the silence thick and uncomfortable. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat, her hair blowing lightly in the breeze. I couldn’t help but admire the curve of her neck, aching to feel her eyes on me.

Suddenly, her feet went out from under her, and she stumbled, gasping in fright. I moved before I could even think, catching her, pulling her against me. Her hands gripped my arms, her body warm and soft against mine. “Careful.”

“Uh, thanks.” Her voice was breathless, her eyes wide. We stared at each other for a long moment, my fingers tightening on her. Fuck.Let her go. Forcing my fingers to ease their grip, I stepped back.

“You good?”

“Yeah.”

We continued on up the path. Arabella’s parents’ house was a typical ranch style, with a wrap around porch and a sprawling garden that was a riot of color in the summer. The walls were painted a soft, buttery yellow, the windows sparkling clean. The front door was red, with a wreath made from pinecones and berries hanging from the doorknob.

As we approached, the scent of roasting meat and the sound of laughter drifted out, and I felt myself tense. Arabella glanced at me, her expression inscrutable, then she was opening the door and leading the way inside.

The foyer was small, with a bench and hooks for coats, and a pile of boots. Arabella kicked her own off, and I followed suit, suddenly aware of how rustic I looked compared to her. Her skirt was designer, her boots elegant, and her sweater was cashmere.

She disappeared into the house and I followed, the scent of roasting meat stronger now, along with the sounds of voices. The living room was huge, with a fireplace and a plaid couch, and a thick, patchwork rug

Everyone was already there. Arabella’s father, David, with his tall, lanky physique and graying hair, stood by the fire talking to Rhys, who was about half a foot shorter, with short cropped, salt and pepper hair.

On the couch, Sylvie and Rosie were deep in conversation, wineglasses in hand. Rosie was almost as chatty as Sylvie, but where Sylvie was medium height and fuller figured, Rosie was tall, with a more athletic build. Both women had chestnut hair and friendly blue eyes. Zane sat at the kitchen bench, the perfect blend of his parents with his mom’s coloring and his dad’s height. He was chatting to Genevieve and Noah while they were putting together a cheese platter.

As Arabella and I entered, it felt like someone hit the pause button. All eyes shifted to us and I felt like a deer stuck in the headlights.

With all eyes on her, Arabella removed her coat, but her arm got tangled in the sleeve. A momentary look of frustration flashed across her face, and she wriggled, trying to free herself. Without a word, I stepped closer and gently took hold of the coat, helping her slide her arm out.

As I eased the coat free, our gazes met, and I felt a spark of something hot and sharp. I stepped back, putting a safe and familiar distance between us once more. Hanging her coat up, she straightened her shoulders before turning to greet her family.

“Hey, Aunt Rosie, Uncle Rhys, Zane!” She lit up the room like someone had flipped a switch on a human disco ball.

“Bella, look at you. You look amazing!” Aunt Rosie wrapped her in a warm embrace.

“Thanks!”

“So good to see you, poppet,” Uncle Rhys added, giving her a gentle pat on the back.

“You too, Uncle Rhys.”

“Hey, you!” Zane greeted her, lifting her off her feet for a second in a bear hug. “You ready to party?”

“Calm down! It’s just dinner! Unless we’re going clubbing later?” Arabella laughed, and I felt the sound skim over my skin, making me tense.

“I’m game if you are.”

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