Page 10 of Shut Up and Jingle Me
“Eyes up!” the photographer shouts, and I realize mine have drifted lower than they should. I look back up and find himalready watching me, blue eyes bright and mischievous, like he knows exactly how much he’s getting under my skin.
“Perfect,” she says, snapping shot after shot. “Don’t move—Calder, tilt your chin toward him just a bit. Eli, keep that grin. Gorgeous. You two could sell anything.”
Eli doesn’t look away from me as I finish wrapping the lights, looping the last strand around his waist. My fingers brush bare skin, and I swear I feel the small shiver that runs over him.
“Good,” the photographer says, circling us for another angle. “Now, Calder, rest your hand on his hip—closer. Yes, just like that.”
It’s meant to be professional. Just a pose. But standing here with him, lights binding us together, peppermint in the air, and those stupid blue eyes locked on mine… it feels like something else entirely.
“You’re enjoying this,” I murmur.
“Maybe,” he says softly, the corner of his mouth curving. “But so are you.”
I don’t answer, but I also don’t step back.
The photographer circles once more, camera clicking in rapid bursts. “Yes—right there. Hold it. You two are magic together.”
Eli’s smirk grows, and I can feel it even when I’m not looking directly at him. The lights are warm now, his body warmer, and the way we’re standing…close doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Okay,” she says after a few more shots, lowering her camera. “That’s the one. Perfect. You can untangle yourselves—unless you’d rather stay that way.”
Eli looks at me like he’s considering it. “What do you think, Calder? Should we make it a team tradition?”
I shake my head and start unwinding the lights from his waist, careful to keep my touch neutral. It doesn’t work—every time my fingers brush his skin, he’s watching me with those too-blue eyes, and it’s like the room shrinks.
We finish in silence, handing the lights back. She’s already setting up for the next group, but I catch her muttering, “Hot as hell,” under her breath.
Eli grins like he heard it too. “Guess we nailed it.”
I grunt something noncommittal as I tug on my shirt and jacket before grabbing my coffee—and the untouched peppermint latte he shoved into my hand earlier—heading for the side exit before he can say more.
But as I walk away, the scent follows me, curling warm and sweet in the cold air from the paper cup. The phantom heat of those lights, the solid curve of his hip under my hand, and that lingering hit of pure mint from his breath all stick with me.
And I know it’s going to be hours—days, maybe—before I stop thinking about how it felt to have him that close.
FIVE
ELI
The dinerby the rink is one of those places that hasn’t changed in forty years—cracked red vinyl booths, a jukebox that only plays classics, and a menu where everything comes with a side of fries whether you ask for it or not.
Daniel slides into the booth across from me, still grinning, and clearly dying to say something since the shoot wrapped.
“You were ridiculous,” he says, pointing his fork at me before his burger even hits the table.
“Ridiculously photogenic?” I ask, feigning innocence as I unwrap my straw.
“Ridiculously obvious.”
I shrug, leaning back in the booth. “What? We were supposed to sell the December fantasy. I just…committed to the bit.”
Daniel snorts. “By ‘bit’ you mean holding onto Calder exactly how you would if you were posing for a wedding announcement?”
“That’s called chemistry,” I say, sipping my soda. “You can’t fake it.”
He smirks. “And the extra latte you brought him? That wasn’t part of the assignment.”
I grin into my drink. “Nope. That was a personal touch.”
