Page 101 of Perfectly Complicated
“Ms. Bennett!” she calls out. “Somebody added mistletoe!”
The excitement in her voice pulls my attention from the script. “No, that’s evergreen boughs…” Then I freeze. Because sure enough, there’s a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the center…and Idefinitelydidn’t put it there. And standing under it is one Rourke Riley.
“How didthatget there?” he asks innocently, though I have my suspicions. There’s only one person who could reach up that high without a ladder. One person who very much would like to kiss me.
“Interesting.” I slowly walk toward him. “I didn’t ask for any mistletoe on this set.”
“Oh, you know what that means!” Emmalynn squeals, and suddenly all the kids gather around us like it’s the most fascinating thing they’ve ever witnessed.
“It means if two people stand under it, they have to kiss!” she finishes.
“EWWWWWW,” afew boys groan.
Jack frowns. “Which is why I’m not going near it!”
I glance at Rourke, who’s suddenly looking everywhere except at me. A mischievous smile spreads across his face as he waits under the pergola.
“Mr. Rourke,” I ask, walking toward him. “Did you hang mistletoe from the pergola?”
He stares at his feet. “Maybe Santa’s elves did it.”
The children burst into giggles.
“I thinkyoudid it!” Emmalynn declares, pointing at him. “Look at his face! He’s guilty!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, fighting a grin. “I was just concerned about authenticity. I mean, you can’t have Christmas without mistletoe.”
“Uh-huh,” I say dryly, stopping in front of him. “I can see how concerned you are about authenticity.”
“Ms. Bennett!” Lily says. “You have to stand under it!”
Before I know what’s happening, twenty-two hands are pushing me toward the mistletoe, until I’m directly under it.
When I’m finally inches from Rourke, I see the way his eyes are dancing in amusement.
“Kiss her, Mr. Rourke,” Lily says. “Before she runs away!”
Rourke steps closer. “Ms. Bennett, could you help me check this beam?” he says seriously. “I want to make sure it’s structurally sound.”
“That is the worst excuse I’ve ever heard,” I tell him, but I can’t help the smile pulling at my lips.
“Like the kids said,it’s arule.” He shrugs helplessly. “You can’t break the rules, Ms. Bennett. Not whenyou’rethe teacher.”
“This is a very elaborate plan, Riley,” I murmur. “Hiding the mistletoe until this moment.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I’m only following Christmas tradition. You still want to make me a Christmas convert, don’t you?”
“So this is what it’s going to take tofullyconvert you…a kiss under the mistletoe?”
“Not one kiss under the mistletoe, Ms. Bennett. Anobscenenumber of kisses under the mistletoe.”
“Is that so?” I say, laughing. “How many is obscene?”
“Let’s find out,” he says, leaning closer. “I mean, if you’re trying to reform me into someone who loves Christmas…this might help tip the scales. Besides…” He pauses, his lips almost brushing mine now. “Rules are rules.”
“Oh, then I’d better not break a single one.” I close the distance between us, my lips brushing his in a kiss that’s soft and sweet and definitely PG-rated.
When he pulls away, the taste of him still on my lips, I realize it: One kiss, and now I understand what he means by “an obscene number of kisses”—because that’s exactly what I want.
