Page 54 of Mistletoe Meet Cute
“You okay?” He cradles my face in his hands and tucks me against his chest as my body shakes.
“I’m okay,” I tell him, then correct myself. “I will be once the shock wears off.”
We stand in the low hush of the old room, ignoring the voices coming from the other side of the door. My sister and his are both in that room with Sophie. She’s safe, and so are we. Well, as safe as we’re getting tonight.
I take a deep breath and then another before I look into his eyes. “Sit,” I whisper.
“What?”
I point to the stool at the island. “Let me take care of your hand.”
“You don’t have?—”
“I do,” I stop him. “I have to do something. Now don’t argue with me.”
He almost smiles.
Almost.
I cross the room and open Rainey’s freezer. Giant ice pops, a few tupperwares full of frozen soup and... jackpot. I pull out a bag of frozen corn and wrap it in a dish towel that smells like sugar cookies and cinnamon, then walk back over to Camden, who’s watching me closely. Probably waiting for me to crack. Heoffers me his hand, and I turn it palm-up and kiss the calloused skin before flipping it back over and resting the corn against it.
Camden flinches.
“You could have been arrested,” I say softly, tucking the towel tighter around his hand. “You could be sued. You could...”
The thoughts race together. Words crowding each other.
Lose your image. Your career. Yourself.
“He touched you.” The words are ripped raggedly from his throat.
“Yes.” I swallow. “But it’s my fault. We’ve called him Handsy Santa for years. But he never bothered anyone but my sisters and me. So we never said anything.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s never okay for you to blame yourself for how a man behaves toward you. That’s on him. Not you, Holly. Never you. Never again. No one has the right to touch you like that. And I’ll fucking make sure it never happens again.”
“Camden . . . you can’t?—”
“Can’t what? Be protective?” His mouth twists. “Sorry, but that’s not an optional thing.”
“It’s not that,” I insist. Maybe it is, or maybe it isn’t. I’m not even sure now. “You put yourself at risk by doing that.”
He exhales slowly. “I know.”
I let that settle quietly around us as we stand in silence. My hand holding his as the makeshift icepack numbs both our hands. And for a second, I wonder if this is how my month is going to be measured. Not by some fun advent calendar, but by the distances I put between us and the ones I close.
“Thank you,” I finally say, looking up at him.
Camden almost grins. “For what? Assaulting Santa? Would the Grinch do that?”
I shake my head. “For seeing something I didn’t want to make a scene about and not asking me to minimize it to makeeveryone else comfortable. I have a tendency of doing that.” I lean in and kiss his cheek. “Thanks for choosing me over the optics of hitting Santa. Pretty sure your coach is going to have a cow.
He swallows and brings his other hand up to cup my jaw. “Always.”
I shift the corn and check his knuckles again. They’re swollen, and a bruise is blooming, but they’re not split open. “Here,” I set the ice aside and bring his bruised hand up to the other side of my face and for a moment, our breaths sync.
“What do you want me to do, Holly?” he asks, and the words sound exhausted.
“I don’t want you to do anything. I’m going to make sure Santa never works another shift anywhere. My sisters will worry about a replacement. Briggs will be home in a few days, and he can always fill in if they need him to. The only thing I want from you is a promise you won’t do anything stupid for me again. You can’t, Cam. Not with your job. It’s not worth it.”
