Page 25 of Not In The Christmas Plan
“Well, I see everything is okay here,” she says, already sashaying away. “I’ll just leave you two lovebirds to it.”
I turn back to Grant. Although he fell back to the ground when I pulled away, his lips are curved into a blissful smile.
“Why did you do that?” I ask, proud of how steady my voice sounds given that I’m still reeling on the inside.
I kissed him! Again!Or, rather, he kissed me. But I kissed him back. Boy, did I kiss him back.
Grant shakes his head slowly as if coming out of a trance. “On the way down, I swore if I lived, I’d stop wasting chances. Then I opened my eyes and saw an angel hovering over me.” His eyes clear and his mouth quirks. “Seemed like a dumb time to hesitate.”
My cheeks burn hot. “Well, I’m no angel. We’ll chalk that up to head trauma.”
I help pull him up, my hands gripping his arms to make sure he’s steady.
He winces and rolls his shoulders but seems otherwise unharmed. I can’t say the same for my nerves. I don’t know whether to yell at him more for climbing onto theroof, yell at him for kissing me, or pull him back down and make him do it again.
As usual, with Grant, everything is out of control.
“Gotta say…” Grant dusts grass from his pants while waiting for me to look at him.
I shake my head, already knowing that he’s going to say the most ridiculous thing to make this whole situation even more complicated.
When I still don’t look up, he tugs my hood back over my head and gently tips my chin with his finger until our eyes meet.
“The fall was worth the kiss,” he says softly, “and judging by how you kissed me back, I’m not the only one who wanted or liked it.”
Chapter eleven
How is Grant going to try and tell me how I felt about the kiss?
Last I checked, he’s not a mind reader nor body language expert. Him declaring something doesn’t automatically make it true.
‘I’m not the only one who wanted or liked it.’
And if Ididlike it? If I thought it somehow managed to top the kiss we shared at the wedding? If I’ve daydreamed of his warm hand caressing my neck, feeling the stubble of his mustache prick my lip, how he looked like a man who knew exactly what he wanted—so what?
I cannot fall for Grant.
One: he’s Braxton’s brother. I am not about to turn Ivy and me into those cliché twins who fall for a pair of brothers. Just… no. Two: I’m not in the market for another heart break. If Grant and I became a thing that ended in disaster, which seems to be the way of life for me, it would be a million times more awkward at family events. It’s been impossible to keep Grant at a distance as it is. I’d have to do something drastic like lock him up in the shed to make sure I never saw him again.
“The light’s green,” Grant says beside me, snapping me out of my spiral. “Quit thinking about kissing me again and drive.”
My foot slams the gas and the truck I’m driving lurches forward before stalling as I shift to First Gear. It happens two more times before the car behind us blares their horn.
“Well Happy Holidays to you too,” I grumble as they speed past.
Out the corner of my eye, I see Grant grimace and rub his neck.
“You did not get whiplash from a little bit of rocking,” I tell him, refusing to take his bait or talk about the kiss.
I get the truck moving and continue down to the Christmas tree farm.
It’s been two days since the incident. In that time, I’ve organized baby supplies, sorted old household items into donation boxes, and rearranged the living room a handful of times. And Grant’s been there every step of the way, doing all he can to ensure the kiss stays on my mind. So today I’ve decided I need some good, fresh air of the pine variety.
“I can’t believe these are the best Christmas songs they can come up with,” Grant huffs as a painfully slow version of “Sleigh Ride” drags on. “They could at least play something from this century.”
“Just turn the radio off if you’re going to have something to say about every song that comes on,” I snap.
We had to use Dad’s old Chevy since neither of us wanted to strap a tree to our cars, but that leaves us without a Bluetooth connection or even an aux cord. My patience is hanging by a thread with his constant teasing about the kiss. I don’t need his complaining mixed in.
