Page 61 of The Christmas Fix
“The last street crime Merry saw was three years ago. It involved hot chocolate.” He fell into step beside her.
“And the crime rate skyrocketed,” Cat predicted.
“The crime rate skyrocketed when you assaulted Regis in the bar when you were filming here before.”
“Oh, here we go. Blaming the woman.”
“You were drunk, and you broke the guy’s nose,” Noah argued.
“He grabbed my ass. Twice. The second time after I made it very clear that his hands had no business wandering in that direction.”
“Oh.” Noah looked chagrined. “I don’t suppose there was a non-violent way to have ended it?”
“Let’s fast forward a few years. Your daughter’s out on the town having a good time, and some guy gets a little handsy with her. What should she do?”
“Break his fucking nose,” Noah said immediately.
Cat laughed. “Now we’re talking. I may blow off steam from time to time, but I’m not some hot-headed celebrity with a pack of lawyers on retainer to clean up my messes. I mean I am a hot-headed celebrity, but I don’t go looking for trouble.”
“Fair enough. I’m sorry for judging you.”
“Well, that’s big of you,” Cat grinned. “I promise you your crime rate won’t explode while I’m in town this time.”
“Merry’s too good-natured for crime,” Noah told her.
“Then why are you walking me home?”
“Maybe I don’t mind spending time with you when there’s no cameras around and you aren’t making it your life’s mission to manipulate me into a host of things I don’t want to do.”
“You were wrong about me, and you’re going to be wrong about what I can accomplish,” she said loftily. Cat enjoyed the zing of attraction that was playing between them. Would he kiss her when they got back to her trailer? Would she invite him in?
“I’m willing to admit I was most likely wrong about you. But I’m still not getting my hopes up about the festival. You’re not a miracle worker.”
“Oh, but I am. I’m Merry’s own personal miracle.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “I’m trying to decide what I want out of you when this year’s Christmas Festival annihilates your best year’s numbers.”
He laughed softly. “I do admire your confidence. Delusional though it may be.”
“You know, it’s okay to believe. You don’t have to constantly prepare for the worst.” She said it lightly, but Cat noticed the shadow that flickered over Noah’s face.
“Sometimes preparing for the worst is the only way you won’t be disappointed... or hurt.”
He wasn’t talking about a Christmas Festival now, and he also wasn’t talking about what she could or couldn’t deliver. There was a sadness in Noah that she hadn’t noticed before.
They walked on in silence for another block down the middle of the street at Cat’s behest. Merry slept soundly around them. Clouds had rolled in, blotting out the stars as they’d worked.
“Look,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. In the soft circle of light cast off from the streetlamp and in the glow of that Rudolph, they could see it. Snowflakes.
“Great. I forgot to reach out to the township to see if the trucks are running,” Noah said. “We’re supposed to get a couple of inches by tomorrow afternoon. I don’t know how much of our salt stock was damaged by the flood. And this probably means at least a snow delay for the schools.”
He reached for his phone as if he was going to solve all the problems right then and there.
She squeezed his arm. “Just shut up and look, Noah. There’s magic in the first snow.”
He did look but not at the snow. He was watching her.
“You’re lucky there isn’t more of this because I would hit you in the face with the biggest snowball I could make,” Cat threatened, tilting her head to watch the flakes float down.
“That sounds like something you’d do.”
