Page 29 of Christmas Cove

Leo didn’t say anything. It was as though they were each sizing the implications of the revelation. She desperately wanted to know what was traversing his mind. Hers, meanwhile, swam with all the silly dreaming of a young woman still in her youth. The version of herself that would doodle his name in her Trapper Keeper, the one that would pass notes to him in biology, and the one who would have begged to switch lockers with a friend just to be nearer to him.

What was happening to her? She had an assignment to do. And crushing on the small-town mayor of Nowheresville was not on the agenda. She looked at his face, with its strong jawline covered in two- or three-day-old stubble, his serious brows, and his red lips, and weighed the harm in enjoying the man’s company.

“Did you say something?” Leo asked with a giggle in his throat that he attempted to disguise as a cough.

“Um...I don’t think so.” America scoured her memory. Had she said something aloud that she meant to keep to herself? “Did I say something about a Trapper Keeper or locker?”

Another laugh. “No. But now you have me fully engaged.”

The way he strung out the wordengagedmade her think that was the word she had accidentally said aloud. It was better for her to ignore it than to address the slip. A sigh escaped her the moment the cabin came into view. And not a moment too soon. She was glad that the inelegant adventure could be over for the night.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said. “Should I expect you sometime tomorrow morning?”

“Only if we get a tree for Main Street. I’ll ring you in the morning if we locate one.”

“Carol said she could help with that.”

“I don’t know how you did it. That woman is notoriously difficult,” Leo said and stroked the horse’s back. “In the meantime, you can get your writing done. I can’t wait to read it.”

“Don’t be so sure,” she mumbled, and he cocked his head to one side. “Never mind. Um, do you have my number?” she asked and slapped herself on the forehead. “This is your place. Of course, you have the number for the cabin.”

Leo nodded while he pulled Bingo’s reins in. “I’ve got to get this guy to bed. And you have a little tree to decorate.”

“Oh, no!” she said and covered her mouth.

“What?” Leo looked over his shoulder as though he sensed danger. “What is it?”

“The lights! For my little tree. We forgot to grab some working ones while we were in town.”

Leo smirked and pulled out a box of brand-new mini lights from behind his back. “Multi-colored. I hope that’s all right.”

It was more than all right. It was the kindest thing he had done in a line of kindnesses he had shown her. She felt compelled to express her appreciation and flung her arms around his neck. Her forwardness must have taken him by surprise. He sat like a statue, and a smile pulled up on her warming cheeks.

Leo’s right arm came around her back and held her close with just enough pressure to feel reassuring, not forceful. Her father’s voice filtered into her mind, saying,If it’s too good to be true, it probably is, but America beat back the noise and let Leo go.

Taking the lights in one hand, she said, “These are perfect. Thank you.”

“We’ll talk in the morning.” Leo helped her down and waited for her to get inside before she heard him call the horse back into motion.

Breathless, she pressed her back against the doorframe and listened to the jingle bells fade as the carriage crested over the far side of the hill. “Tomorrow,” she said and headed to the kitchen. She placed the lights on the counter and made for the wineglasses. As she poured herself a glass of red wine, she inspected the modest tree across the room and made her plan of attack. Lights first, then she would fill the gaps with the ornaments that lay scattered across the counter.

Someone knocked on the door, and America approached with caution. She peered out the peephole in the center of the door and saw Leo, or his back rather. He stood facing away from the door, his hands running through his hair and kicking at invisible things on the front porch.

America covered her lips with her fingers and held in a giggle as she opened the door. He turned and was white as the ghost from Christmas past. She failed to hold in her giggle at the sight. Her eyes searched for answers.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t hear you coming—”

“I wanted you to know,” he interrupted. “I like you.”

“I like you too.” The words left her mouth before her mind had time to stop her. She really did like him. She stood there, waiting for him to say something else.

He stilled his fidgeting and approached her. His hand came around the small of her back and the other grazed against the back of her hand hanging at her side. He was going to kiss her. She was sure of it. There was part of her that wanted to kiss him too. She licked her lips and sucked in her bottom one as she felt her eyes widen with anticipation.

Leo must have noticed her flushed face, and he looked away, down to her hand. His fingers traced the shape of her arm up to her elbow and to her shoulder, where he paused again. His eyes shifted to hers. They stood there, wrapped in winter’s breath, waiting for the other to make the next move.

She swallowed hard.

He blinked.

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