Page 20 of Mistletoe Meet Cute
Damn . . . that sound. Fuck me.
“So... that card you gave me.” She licks whipped cream from her straw, and come on—she’s got to know what she’s doing. “The one to decorate with... Does it have a limit?”
“It’s a black Amex, Holly,” I grind out through gritted teeth.
“So that’s a no?” she squeaks, and it’s fucking adorable.
When in the hell do I think things likeadorable?
“That’s a no. Get whatever you want.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Holly Chase could stop traffic with her smile. It’s beautiful and natural. She doesn’t need makeup and barely wears any. She doesn’t try to act coy. She justsmiles, and it hits you in the center of your chest. “So... I have a favor to ask.” She suddenly looks less sure, and something about that bothers me. “But it’s not really for me. It’s for you. Well... you and Sophie.”
“What?” I ask, already dreading what could have this whirlwind of a woman asking for a favor.
She turns and gives Sophie another one of the dissolvable puff cookies that my girl has been gumming since her first tooth started to break through last week. “Sophie and I want to get a Christmas tree from the tree farm at the vineyard.”
“Like a live tree?”Shit. I’ve never had a live tree. “Aren’t they messy?”
“A little.” She shrugs. “But they’re worth it, and I’ll take care of it. Christmas isn’t Christmas without a real tree.” Her voice is wistful and happy, and even my stone-cold heart can’t say no. “Please...”
I shake my head wondering when I became this man.
Looks like we’re getting a tree.
“Yeah, sure. But is that the last of the Christmas crap? I can’t imagine there’s much left to decorate.” I pour more coffee and groan. At least if she’s forcing me to drink out of a ridiculous mug, this one’s not too bad.
“Oh, ye of little faith. There’s always room for more decorations.”
That’s what I was afraid of.
HOLLY
I’ve decided Christmas calories don’t count.
It’s my present to myself.
—Holly’s Secret Thoughts
Isink into the pale-pink glider rocker in Sophie’s room with my new best friend tucked into my arms. A bottle in one hand and her ever present, faithful guardian at my feet. I’ve learned quickly where Sophie goes, Madden goes too, and I kind of love him for that. I mean he’s a drooly, snoring, goofy-looking dog, but man, he’s loyal and lovable. Now if he’d realize he’s a sixty-pound bowling ball and not a lapdog, we’ll be good. For as gentle as Madden is with Sophie, it’s like he doesn’t know the meaning of the word with me.
Sophie’s mossy-green eyes grow heavy as she fights off sleep. She’s not much of a late-night baby to start with, but she refused to nap today, so we’ll see how this goes. “Come on, sugar plum. You need your sleep tonight. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
I can’t wait to take her to the vineyard to see all the lights and trees and to maybe see her daddy smile when I force him to get a giant tree to fill the space in the family room that’s screaming for one at least ten feet tall.
I’m not sure why I like antagonizing Camden so much, but it’s more fun than I anticipated.
Sophie’s big eyes blink slowly as she takes slow pulls from her bottle until she’s finally full and sleeping soundly, but even then, I don’t put her down. I know I should. Everything I’ve ever learned between school and life experience has told me routine is important, and our routine is this little girl sleeps in her own crib, not on me. But just a few more minutes won’t hurt.
A week ago, I didn’t even know her, and now my life revolves around this tiny human. It’s the strangest thing because it feels so natural. Like she was supposed to be in my life, filling a hole I didn’t realize was there. I already can’t imagine not seeing her every day. Not holding her. How do nannies do it? Switch families? Leave kids behind? I don’t think I have the heart for it, and the idea of doing it in a few months hurts my heart.
Here’s hoping the Kings make it to the Superbowl and I’m here until February.
A throat clears across the room, and I look up to find Camden leaning against the doorframe. Gray sweats hang low on his hips, and a tight, white long-sleeved thermal clings to his broad, muscular chest and biceps,and wow, what a sight. I’ve never been into athletes before, but for this man—I think I could be swayed. I mean... what’s not to like? “I just got her down. Give me a few more minutes, and I’ll have her in the crib. She’s been cranky today and didn’t nap. I think that tooth is about to break through.”
He nods slowly, staring at his baby with a familiar look of awe on his face.
One I’m not sure I’ll ever tire of seeing there.
