Page 24 of Holiday Star
12
Idon’t want to,” Caleb complains as I tug on his arm, trying unsuccessfully to pull him off the couch. “Why, Gwen? Why should I go caroling?”
That’s the second time he’s said my name. Not that I’m counting. There’s just something nice about how he says it, about how his mouth rounds with the G and flattens out by the N.
G-w-e-N.
“You should go because it’ll be good for you.” I tug on an arm that feels like solid marble. Each muscle is defined beneath my hand, like it was carved with a chisel.
“You should go because you can’t hide out in the living room forever.” Another tug on his bicep. His skin is warm, hot actually. I have a flashback to the night of my mother’s wedding when we danced. How his hands had slid from my waist to the small of my back, pressing me close. How firm his chest was against mine. How easily our bodies had found a rhythm together.
“You should go because it’s Christmas and little baby Jesus would want you to do it.”
Tug and suddenly he’s moving. Surging up from the couch to tower over me so fast that I fall backward, my arms windmilling, until he grabs my hand, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm. He holds on until I’m steady and then lets go. I stare at my hand, still buzzing from his touch, like it doesn’t belong to my body.What is wrong with me?
“Well, if baby Jesus wants me to do it, I guess I have to,” he says mildly. “Where are your scarves?”
Twenty minutes later, Caleb looks like a human snowman. A red knit cap sits low on his head, tugged down to obscure his famous eyebrows, and my mismatched midnight-blue scarf is wrapped around his neck, covering his chin. Brandon’s old puffy jacket is too small for him, the fabric straining from all those muscles.
I step back, away from his seductive cinnamon scent, and purse my lips, surveying my handiwork. He’s overdressed for the warm California winter, but it’ll do. If you don’t stare too closely, you won’t recognize him. Only those aqua eyes give him away.
“How do I look?” He’s been watching me, silent and still as a doll while I’ve dressed him.
“Meh.” I put my hand out and seesaw it back and forth in a “so-so” gesture. “You look pretty average. Not great, but okay.”
His smile is wide, the most pleased I’ve seen him so far. I should call him average more often. He seems to like it. Maybe if you’ve been called amazing your whole life, average starts to sound pretty good.
“Hmm,” he hums. “Just okay, huh? I’ll take it.”
I pull away, about to walk out of the room, when, without touching me, Caleb leans forward, bringing his nose to my hair and inhaling deeply. I freeze, startled by his nearness, by the heat blasting off his body and how I can see the pulse in his neck, fluttering in time to his heartbeat.
“You smell nice,” he murmurs in a low rumble that I feel all the way to my toes, “like strawberries.”
Oh. That’s what this is about. “It’s my shampoo,” My voice is breathy, weakened by his proximity.
“I know. I smelled the bottle in the shower.”
I blink, picturing Caleb Lawson naked in the shower sniffing my shampoo, and something loosens in my knees. I clamp my legs together to stop them from trembling.
There’s a new awareness in me of how close Caleb is standing. He’s still looking at me closely, like he’s trying to read my mind. I grasp for words that will drown out the loud hammering of my heart. “We better get going,” I finally say, overly cheerful. “Jenny’s waiting.”
Caleb nods once, and we go down the stairs.
The house is quiet now. The construction workers have gone home for the night. As we march downstairs, the silence makes Jenny’s gasp of surprise at Caleb’s ridiculous outfit even louder. Fortunately, Caleb hadn’t been mad at me when I explained that Jenny knows he’s here. I had reassured him over and over that she would keep his secret.
Pip sniffs around Caleb like she’s never seen him before. He freezes and stares at the toy-sized dog with something like fear. I call her away from him, and Pip comes, trotting happily over to me.
Caleb flashes a grateful smile my way. The second smile I’ve seen from him today.
And that’s when I realize what millions of adoring fans already know. That there’s something special about Caleb Lawson when he smiles.
13
It’s a warm, breezy night. I’m worried Caleb will overheat in all his winter gear, but he’s not complaining. About thirty people meet up in the park across from our house. I greet neighbors and old friends that I know from having done this before with Jenny’s family.
Several times as I move through the crowd, I glance up to see Caleb staring over at me. Which is to be expected, I guess, since I’m the person here that he knows best. When I catch his eye, I try to send him a reassuring smile, but he darts his gaze away like he didn’t see me. I swear at one point, he even blushes when I catch him looking my way.
Whatever. Weirdo.
