Page 36 of Fumbled Love

“Not even close,” I said, helping her drape the garland along the hooks. “My favorite isIt’s a Wonderful Life.”

She snorted and stepped off the stepladder.

“What’s so funny?”

“Besides the fact that it’s aired in black-and-white and my grandmother’s favorite, it’s long and boring.”

I smacked her ass. “It is not boring, and now that I know that fun fact, I’ll make sure to invite Deanne over to watch it with me. Maybe I can use it to my advantage and we can bond over our admiration for Bedford Falls and George Bailey.”

“Sounds like a perfect date.” She winked and stood back to admire her hard work. “Do you think I went a little overboard with the decorations?”

I skimmed my eyes across the room, my entire condo had been transformed in a matter of hours, and it shocked me how much I liked it. The tree had gifts wrapped underneath the branches, stockings were hanging from the mantle, and a Christmas throw was hanging over the back of my couch.

“I think it’s perfect.”

Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” started playing.

I held out my hand. “Dance with me.”

“What?” She hesitated and looked around like she wasn’t sure what to make of my request. “Why?”

“Because I want to.” Our time together was limited, and I had this undescribed need to be close to her. The days were passing by too quickly, and I would have done anything to slow them down, or convince her to stay.

She took my hand, and I gathered her in my arms. “Fair warning, I’m not a very good dancer.”

“I guess I’ll just have to hold you extra close then.”

My arms slid along her back, and I gathered her as tight as our bodies would allow. Over the past few days, we’d fallen into a comfortable routine. I didn’t realize things would be this easy between us or how much I needed this time with her. It’s been a nice change of pace. I couldn’t remember the last time when my days and nights didn’t revolve around football. If this is what having a real life felt like, then I wasn’t in a hurry to get back to my old one.

She laid her head down on my shoulder and smiled up at me. “You realize holding me close will only make it easier to trip over your feet, right?”

I gave her a little twirl and brought her back to my chest. “Do your worst, but I won’t let you fall. Plus,” I kissed her temple, “it gives me a chance to hold you.”

She folded her hands along my neck and gazed up at me. “I never knew you could be so sweet.”

“That’s because you only knew the teenage Maverick Cross. The young jock who thought he was God’s gift to the universe.”

“And what does the adult Maverick Cross think?”

“Besides the fact that it’s weird that we’re talking about him in third person.” We both laughed. “He thinks becoming a father will end up being his greatest accomplishment.”

Her feet stopped moving; she lifted her head and blinked up at me. “I think you are going to be a great dad, Maverick.”

I traced the edge of her nose and spread my palm along her cheek. “Thank you.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the thought of her returning to New York that had me panicking or all my doubts and fears about raising a child together. But never in my life had I been so unsure about one thing and a hundred percent sure about another.

“And thank you for not making fun of my dancing skills.” She laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re welcome, but you just need to relax. You’re too stiff.”

She smacked my chest. “I’m not used to this.”

“Used to what, dancing?” I wrapped my arms around her waist and led us through the living room.

“Affection and spontaneity.”

“I plan on spoiling you, so get used to it.” I winked. “And don’t worry, I’ll teach our kid how to dance.”

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