Page 44 of Hacking the Holidays
Sam ordered another round of beers.
Of course he did.
Because apparently, the universe had decided tonight was the night to test exactly how much control I actually maintained.
Chapter Eleven
SAM
During the middle of our second round of beers, I was acutely aware that Rose had completely relaxed. Her shoulders were less tense. Her smile came more easily. Her leg was still bumping against mine like it was no big deal at all. And she laughed out loud at Eleanor’s story about an eighty-year-old library patron who’d complained that the romance section didn’t have enough “spicy” content.
“Rose—I have to say that I really like you when you’re loose,” I said, then immediately realized how that sounded.
She crossed her arms. “Excuse me?”
Chloe and Eleanor laughed.
“That came out wrong,” I said quickly. “I meant—you’re always on edge, like you’re perpetually braced for something to go wrong. This is the most relaxed I’ve seen you since you arrived in Leavenworth.”
“I’m not on edge,” Rose said defensively.
“Not anymore,” I said. “Earlier, you were scanning theroom like you were conducting a threat assessment.” I gestured at her with my hand. “Whereas right now, you’re slouching slightly, you’re making actual eye contact, and you just laughed so hard you snorted. It’s a marked improvement.”
“I didn’t snort,” Rose said.
“Yes, you did,” I said in unison with Chloe and Eleanor, then the three of us chortled together and clinked our glasses.
“Fine,” Rose said. “Maybe I’m a little more relaxed, but I’m not drunk, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I’m not even tipsy.” She reached for her beer mug, knocked it with her knuckles, and sent the last of her beer cascading directly into my lap.
Chloe and Eleanor were cackling now.
Me, not so much.
I glanced down at my now-soaked pants. “Hello. I’m Sam Monroe, and it’s been zero days since my last Rose-related incident.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” She launched herself toward the napkin dispenser, grabbing an enormous stack, then turning toward me.
Rose’s intentions were excellent.
Her execution was horrible.
In her enthusiasm to help, she came flying toward me out of control, and faster than you can saySprechen Sie Deutsch, her overzealous fist smacked me below the belt.
I bent over slightly, the involuntary sound coming out of my mouth somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.
“I just punched you in the—” Rose’s hand flew to her mouth.
“Yes, thank you for confirming that,” I said through clenched teeth, carefully removing the napkins from her hands. “And I’m going to take it from here before you cause any additional damage that has me singing soprano.”
Eleanor was absolutely losing it, her laughter so loud that people at nearby tables were staring. Chloe wasn’t much better—she was actually crying, wiping her eyes while trying to maintain some semblance of composure.
“I promise you I’m not drunk,” Rose said sheepishly.
“I believe you,” I said, dabbing at my pants with what was rapidly becoming an ineffective collection of napkins. “You just have a unique talent for creating chaos wherever you go.”
“You two are such a kick.” Eleanor stood, still chuckling as she gathered her coat. “Thank you for the lovely evening. This has been absolutely delightful, but I’m heading home to relax in front of the TV.”
“And I’m heading back to the hotel,” Chloe said, also standing and pulling on her coat.
