Page 24 of Savoring Christmas
“And you don’t mind?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t mind.”
“You’re very beautiful,” Logan said. “And sweet and smart too. How could I not have a crush on you? I bet every single man in this town does.”
“I doubt that.” She practically buzzed from the compliment.
“I’ve wanted to ask you out since last Christmas when we worked on the food drive together, but I never had the feeling you’d be interested.”
How honest should she be? No one in Sugarville Grove knew about her past, how her life had been truly in shambles when she’d moved into her grandmother’s old cabin. Or that her best friend, Sharon, in New York had loaned her the money she’d needed to turn it into a restaurant. It was really more of a gift, if she were being honest with herself. Fortunately, Sharon was from a wealthy family. She’d said at the time that she didn’t need any of it back any time soon. Regardless, every month Mia sent her money. Whatever she could afford and still keep the restaurant running.
“It’s not anything to do with you,” Mia said. “I probably seem distant and a little cold, but it’s that I’m actually really shy. Plus, when I came here, I had a lot to work through. This is the first holiday season I’ve felt even close to being myself.”
“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m a good listener.”
Before she could stop herself, she reached up to touch a stray lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “I can see that you are.”
He covered her hand with his, holding it against his cheek, staring down at her. He was really quite tall. Perhaps ten whole inches taller than her five foot two stature.
Next thing she knew, he was leaning closer and closer, until finally he kissed her. Not a peck, but a full-on deliciously romantic kiss. It only lasted a few seconds but it was enough to shake her to her core and awaken every nerve ending in her body.
He withdrew, looking into her eyes. “I hope that was okay?”
“More than okay, yes.”
“All right then, in you go before you develop frostbite.” He stepped back and she slipped into the seat, looking up at him, marveling at this turn of events.
“Night, Logan.” She turned on the engine, music blasting the moment she did so. Hastily, she turned the knob for the volume. “Sorry about that.”
He merely grinned, closing her door and stepping back, remaining as she backed out of the parking lot.
As she drove away, she couldn’t help noticing in the rearview mirror that he was still there as she turned onto the street. Cannoli shifted in her blanket and rested her head on Mia’s knee.
“You’re a good girl,” Mia said. “And he’s way too cute.”
5
LOGAN
The old log cabin sat at the edge of the pines with a sign that read, “Mia’s.” Although the restaurant was closed for the evening, a few lights shone from inside. However, Mia had told him to come around back to the entrance up to the apartment where she lived.
He walked around to the back of the building, where a simple wooden door marked the entrance to her private quarters. Before he could knock, a small bark sounded from inside, followed by the soft scrabble of paws against the floor. The door opened and Mia appeared, with Cannoli behind her.
“You’re early,” she said, one hand holding a towel to her damp hair. “I’m not quite ready.”
“I’m sorry. It didn’t take me as long to get here as I thought it would. I can wait in the truck.”
“No, don’t be silly. It’s freezing out here.” She stepped back, gesturing him inside. “Come up while I finish getting ready. I just need to dry my hair.”
He followed her through the back door and up a narrow staircase that hugged the wall, creaking underfoot. Cannoli trotted ahead like a self-appointed escort, glancing back over hershoulder every few steps to make sure he was keeping up. When they reached the small landing, she opened another plain door and stepped inside, holding it open for him to pass through.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be quick.” She disappeared into a tiny bathroom. “I’ll just be a minute.”
He looked around the small apartment. The space was bare, reminding him of a bygone era. A bed neatly made with a simple quilt. A single wooden chair tucked beside a small dresser. One lamp casting a pool of yellow light. No couch. No books stacked in corners. No framed photos or art on the walls. It looked less like someone’s home and more like someone camping out between chapters of their life. Or someone who didn’t plan to stay long.
He sat in the chair to wait. Cannoli padded over to him, sniffing his shoes with quick little huffs before making an executive decision. With a light hop, she jumped into his lap, turned twice in a tight circle, and settled in with a contented sigh, her head resting on his thigh as if they’d known each other for years, a small, warm weight in his lap. How was he to interpret this way of living. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but not a room that looked like it belonged to a monk.
A few minutes later, Mia returned—her shoulder-length hair now dry—dressed in a pair of dark jeans paired with black pumps and a blue cashmere sweater. She started laughing when she saw Cannoli so at home on Logan’s lap. “She’s not exactly a watch dog now, is she?”
