Page 82 of Bad Boy Bachelor Christmas
Marge put her hand on my back. “Go talk to him.”
“I will.”
“What are you waiting for?”
I watched as North bundled up a tiny snowball and hurled it at the back of a boy’s head. It burst apart on contact and rained down into his hood, which North promptly pulled up over his head, smothering the boy in more snow, before taking off like an oversized child himself.
Grinning, I said, “I’m waiting for a chance for us to be alone so we can talk properly.”
CHAPTER37
NORTH
Istomped snow off my boots while Winter unfurled her white scarf from around her neck. She hung it on the coat rack, along with her white pompom hat and jacket, and combed her fingers through her hair. Shorter strands stuck up with static from the cold, dry air and her knitted hat.
“Can I get you anything?” I offered. “Tea? Wine? Water? Anything else.”
She smoothed her hands down the front of her jeans and shook her head. “I’m okay for now, thanks.”
Now that we were alone, I felt like I’d lost my footing. Back at the town square I’d been full of confidence to see her again, but now that the impending moment of truth had finally landed, I wasn’t sure where to start, where we were going, or how we would get there.
All I knew was we had to start talking.
Winter followed me deep into the house. I’d dismissed most of the staff for the holidays, even Maurice, who’d flown back to Montreal to spend the holidays with his daughter, son-in-law, and their two young children. Undoubtedly, he’d return in the new year with dozens of pictures to show me, and I’d have to indulge him.
I didn’t want him spitting in my food. Not that he ever would.
In the living room, I guided Winter to a comfortable corner of the sofa, indented and softened by Justin’s ass because it was his go-to spot, and began building a fire. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, her elbow on the armrest, her chin in her hand, and watched.
“When did you get here?” I asked.
“Three. I caught a ride straight here after my flight landed.”
“Where are your bags?”
“I didn’t bring any.”
Oh.Did that mean she had no intention of staying long?
“The tree looked good,” she said.
“Didn’t it? I thought so too. The projections were a great idea.”
She smiled.
Sparks caught on the kindling, and I began adding thin pieces of sheared wood to grow the flames before stacking larger logs on top. While I worked, I was painfully aware of the fact that we were both beating around the bush, talking about unimportant things to buy time before we got to the main event.
“Justin and Cami looked chummy tonight.”
I turned, resting a hand on my knee. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who noticed. I think they were holding hands earlier when they thought nobody was looking.”
“Really? And here I was, falling hook, line, and sinker for her act that she hated his guts.”
“Cami hate Justin?” I chuckled and shook my head, adding another log. “Nah. He’s just an easy punching bag for her sense of humor. They’ve been close friends for a long time.”
“Maybe more than that now.”
“Maybe.”
