Page 52 of Holiday Love
I glance around and then point to a beautiful woman in a long faux fur coat. “She’s a Russian Mafia princess in love with her bodyguard, and he loves her back, but...” I widen my eyes dramatically, “if they give in to their desire, her mob boss father will kill them both.”
Teddy raises an eyebrow, awe deepening his voice. “Impressive. No messing around. You went straight for sex and murder.”
I duck my head to hide my blush. Something about how he said that word—sex—with his voice dropping into a low rumble sends heat racing through me. Teddy notices my response. He tilts his head, gaze raking over me like he’s discovered something unexpected and it intrigues him.
I clear my throat, trying to regain my composure. “Your turn,” I challenge, lifting my chin. “To make it even better, I’m going to pick the next victim,ahem, subject for you.” I arch a brow, daring him to protest, but Teddy just grins wider, his eyes sparkling.
He moves his face close enough to kiss me and slowly enunciates, “Bring. It. On.”
“Hmm.” I pretend to think even though I have already made my choice. “That couple over there. The ones standing close but not touching.”
“Who?” He cranes his neck, trying to see around a tall man who chooses this exact moment to sit in front of us.
I lean close, almost pressing my cheek to his, and line up our gazes. “By the pretzel cart.” I point, saying, “The woman in the red coat next to the man in a baseball cap.”
“Got it.” After a quick glance, he leans back, crosses his arms, and squares his shoulders, smugly confident. “First-date jitters. That's why they aren’t touching. It’s that awkward trying to figure each other out phase, but the truth is he’s totally into her, but she’s oblivious.”
My cheeks heat, that story hitting a little too close to home.
Teddy’s grin widens, as he enjoys my discomfort. He points again. “Oh! Look at that. He’s going for it.” I whip my gaze up to watch as the man tentatively reaches out, his hand inching toward the woman’s waist. She doesn’t notice, too transfixed by a street performer who juggles while rapping into a microphone. At the last minute, the guy must lose his confidence. The outstretched hand hesitates, falters, and falls back to his side before he can make contact.
Teddy gusts out a breath, shaking his head sadly. “Tragic. Just tragic. A missed opportunity.” He turns to me. “You see, what that guy should have done is this.” He slips his arm around my waist, hooks my hip, and draws me near, sliding me along the bench until we touch.
I giggle. “Smooth.”
I go back to watching the couple across the square, but it’s hard to concentrate with Teddy touching me like this. I’m too aware of his solid presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the effortless way he moved me closer.
“Oh!” Teddy squeezes my hip in excitement. “Look! He’s going in for another attempt.” I’m laughing as he takes on the hushed drama of an announcer’s voice. Calling out the stranger’s movements like we’re watching a sports game.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he intones. “Number forty-two is back in action. Let’s tune in and see what happens.”
“Forty-two?” I laugh. “Where’d you get that number?”
“It was nine forty-two when you agreed to dance with me at Gwen’s wedding,” he answers immediately. “I checked my watch.”
My mouth drops open in shock. Such a small detail, but he remembered.
“Pay attention, Hellcat.” Teddy nudges his leg against mine. “You’re missing the good part.”
I return my gaze to what’s happening with the couple. Sure enough, the man tries again. This time the woman turns and beams up at him with her mouth moving, saying something.
“Will he go for it?” Teddy says in his fake deep voice. “The hand reaches out.” Teddy continues his play-by-play announcements, his voice getting louder by the second, loud enough to carry across the steps. Other people around us pay attention. They look back, laugh, and talk to each other about what Teddy’s doing. I even hear a couple of guys two rows down take bets about whether the stranger across the square will have enough guts this time around.
“He’s moving closer...closer...oh no! She’s turning away! Wait, false alarm, she’s just adjusting her scarf. Our hero hasn’t been spotted yet. He’s still in the game, folks.” More and more heads turn our way. “But wait! Disaster strikes! His hand is caught on her purse strap! This could be it for our brave contestant! The crowd holds its breath...” He pauses for effect, letting the tension build. “What’s this? A miraculous recovery! He’s free! The hand is mobile again! Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing history in the making! The arm is moving...moving...it’s going around the waist! Can he complete the maneuver? The suspense is killingme! Is it...is it happening? Yes...contact! I repeat contact! We have a touchdown!”
The crowd around us erupts, with Teddy yelling the loudest of all. He whoops, startling nearby onlookers into laughter and applause. I can’t help but grin, warmth spreading through my chest, caught up in the spectacle and in how brilliantly Teddy brings every moment to life.
“That was great,” I tell him.
He shrugs, still grinning, as he looks around and realizes how many people were following along with his commentary.
“It was fun, but that guy missed one crucial step.”
I tilt my head, lips twitching. “And what was that?”
“This,” says Teddy. In an instant his lips are on mine, kissing me fiercely, so hard he bends me backward until I fall into his arms. The kiss is everything, hot and demanding and perfect, and for a moment the entire world disappears. Somewhere, far away, people are yelling, clapping, whistling. It’s not until he breaks away that I realize it’s the crowd and thatwe’rethe ones they’re cheering for. I have one second to catch my breath before he’s kissing me again, right there, in the middle of Times Square.
Chapter twenty-two
