Page 138 of Holidating
He laughs. “It’s a little of both. I’m torn between a couple of different ideas.”
Nicolette slides out of the booth again, picks up his sketchbook, and then slides next to him. His heart makes an unforgiving skitter.
“Okay, so on this page?” She points to the hero. “I thought Jart was going to attack. But then he gets all coy with the vampire hunter, and it kept me on edge.”
“Yeah? Sweet,” he says casually. But inside he’s bursting, because building suspense is exactly what he’d meant to do.
She goes on to make a couple of other predictions, before setting the book aside. “Do you think this pizza is cool enough to eat now?” She drags her plate to the empty spot on the table in front of her and reaches for a slice. “Guess I’m about to find out.”
Damien takes a slice after she does. He let Nicolette choose the toppings, of course, and she went with meatball, onions, and ricotta.
Hell, she really is the perfect woman. The first bite makes him want to weep.
The waiter reappears and smiles down at them. “Does this date night need anything else? A beer or two, maybe?”
Damien, having no idea what to say about this false assumption, balks.
But Nicolette doesn’t miss a beat. “Do you want a beer, darling?”
“No, I’m driving,” he manages.
Nicolette’s smile lights up her whole face. And it lights a fire inside Damien that’s almost as hot as the flames from the pizza oven. What he wouldn’t do to make her smile.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t take all night to eat a pizza. Not thirty minutes pass before the server is asking them if they need a box for the last two slices and dropping the check in its little billfold.
They both grab for it at the same time.
“Hey!” Nicolette yelps when he gets his hand on it first. “You’re not paying that.”
“It was my idea,” he says. “A guy’s gotta eat.”
She shakes her head, accepts the box from the server, and slips thelast two slices inside. “At least take the leftovers. If I took them home, the twins would just scarf them down before I got a chance.”
This is probably what will happen at Damien’s house, too, but he takes the box anyway.
They head out into the snow, and Damien has to drive fairly slowly when they reach the highway.
“Do you need to call home?” he asks. “It will take us another forty-five minutes to get there.”
In the passenger seat, wearing his Santa hat and looking cute as hell, Nicolette pulls out her phone. “No texts. My father probably forgot I was coming home tonight. He always looks a little surprised when I turn up.”
Damien is silent for a moment. “I’ve never met your dad, but I don’t have a great impression.”
“Why?” She turns to him quickly.
He doesn’t speak for a moment, and it’s partly because the truck in front of him is kicking up a cloud of snow and partly because he needs to choose his words carefully. “Every time you mention him, he’s blowing you off somehow. I just don’t get it. You’re, like, the perfect daughter. Going to college. Studying hard. Nice to everyone. What the hell does it take to get his attention?”
Beside him, she goes absolutely still.
Crap. “God, I’m sorry. Don’t listen to me.” He’s said too much, and it’s none of his damn business.
“Damien,” she whispers. “I think that all the time—what the hell does it take? I’ve never figured it out.”
Aw. “You still shouldn’t listen to me. My dad left when I was a teenager. I’m just painting your situation with my own brush.”
“Maybe it’s the same brush, though.” She pulls off the Santa hat and smooths it on her lap. “My dad is stillphysicallyin my life. But after my mother died, it’s like he forgot that I exist. And now he’s got thisnewwife andnewkids and…” She presses a hand over her mouth, as if to stop herself from saying more.
“Eh, I knew he was an ass,” Damien murmurs. “What he does to you seems almost more cowardly than what my father does to his kids. Like, yours will stick around, but he’ll freeze you out because you remind him of his dead wife.”
