Page 9 of Coffee and Christmas Kisses
As we walked, West and I began to hang back a little, sharing private smiles and a few brushes of our hands, sending electricity zinging through me every time we touched. I wanted more—wanted to get to know him better, as a personandphysically. At one point, we stopped at a nurses’ station and West chatted with a nurse for a few minutes about a resident.
“Hey there, Ashleigh,” he said, leaning on the half-wall surrounding the station. “How’s Mrs. Thomas these days?”
Ashleigh gave him a sad smile and shook her head. “Not great. She doesn’t get a lot of visitors. Do you want to pop in and check on her?”
“That would be great. Can you ask if she’d be willing to see us?”
Ashleigh nodded and stood up. “Let me go see. I’ll be right back.”
The minute she was gone around a corner, West turned to me. “Mrs. Thomas was my Home Economics teacher in middle and high school. She was the best. I’ve been visiting her as much as possible since she moved here, but with the coffee shop, it’s hard to get away sometimes.”
I nodded in understanding, but peered around him to where his family was continuing down the hallway. “Should we get back to the group?”
West shook his head. “We’ll catch up. No worries.”
A few moments later, Ashleigh was back with a smile. “Mrs. Thomas would love to see you,” she said.
West grinned widely. “Awesome. Follow me.”
Mrs. Thomas, it turned out, lived in a small apartment just a few doors down and around a corner from the nurses’ station. She was seated in front of her television on a small love seat, her curly white hair in a cloud around her head. When West stopped and knocked, her face lit up. “Come in, come in,” she called.
West took a few steps into the room and gestured for me to follow. “Hey there. How have you been?” He leaned forward and hugged her gently, my heart swelling watching the two of them interact. He seemed so comfortable and confident, not at all how I felt around older adults. As they chatted and caught up, I hung back, listening and trying not to interrupt. Eventually, Mrs. Thomas turned to me.
“And who’s this friend of yours, West?”
He grinned and took my hand. “This is my boyfriend. His name is Cole.”
My stomach did a somersault at that and I squeezed his hand gently.
“Cole,” West continued. “This is Mrs. Thomas. She’s the one who taught me to bake cookies from scratch the first time. She’s practically a wizard in the kitchen.”
Mrs. Thomas’s cheeks turned pink at the flattery. “You’re too kind to me, West. We all know you would have made your dreams happen with or without my help. And Cole—you’re so handsome. You two look like a match made in heaven. Just perfect for each other.”
Before I could respond beyond mumbling my thanks, West spoke up. “We should get going. We have caroling to do. Can I come back and visit you after the holidays?”
“Of course you can. Come by anytime.”
We said our goodbyes and headed back into the hall. Just as we did, stopping at the corner just outside of Mrs. Thomas’s apartment, we spotted his family heading back in our direction.
“Oh!” Mrs. Thomas called. “You’re under the mistletoe.” West’s face immediately flooded red, eyes wide. He glanced at Mrs. Thomas, who was smiling, a mischievous grin on her face. “You’ll have to kiss. You know the rules!”
Before we could protest, one of West’s brothers—the middle one, maybe—piped up, having overheard. “That’s right! Kiss time!” His voice cut through the singing and everyone quieted down except his parents, who continued singing, both smiling and shaking their heads fondly as if they were used to this kind of playful teasing among their sons.
“You don’t have to,” West mumbled, looking at his feet. “I’m so sorry about this.” Even the tips of his ears were red as he tried hard to avoid the demands of his brothers.
I put a finger under his chin and tipped his face up toward mine, urging him to look at me. “Hey. It’s okay.” I leaned in and pressed my lips to his gently, his breath hitching as I did. Around us, applause broke out, and people cheered. When we parted, West’s fingertips brushed his bottom lip and he let out a shaky breath.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“Thankyou,” I whispered back, feeling like I was the one who won in that interaction.
Chapter Six
West
The rest of thecaroling adventure went pretty smoothly—no more requests for kissing, at least. As much as I wanted to be annoyed at my brothers, I couldn’t be mad at Mrs. Thomas for instigating the moment. She’d never wanted anything but the best for me. Of course, my brothers had never wanted anything but to get on my nerves, so I figured it all balanced out.
With the caroling done, the group of us found ourselves standing in the lobby of the nursing home bundling up to head outside. Mom stepped up to Cole and thanked him for joining us.
