He only hoped she’d like the next surprise as much as this one.
Last night at Pajama Christmas, she’d confessed she didn’t sing. But Jack couldn’t imagine a life without it. The pastime had permeated his childhood, providing some of his most cherished memories. More than anything, he wanted a chance to share the experience with Kat. And he felt strongly that she’d enjoy tonight’s activity, even as an observer. Although, he prayed for far more than that.
“Whatever you made for dinner smells amazing.” She slipped out of her coat, revealing the softest looking emerald-hued sweater he’d ever seen. The richness of the color magnified the intensity of her green eyes in a way that momentarily stole his breath.
“What are we having?” she asked, looping her jacket and scarf over the hook by the door.
Too distracted to speak, it took him a moment to respond. “Um… Cornish hens and roasted fingerling potatoes.”
“Sounds delicious! Will Fitz be joining us?”
The pup brought her a stuffed wool sock, wagging his tail in eager anticipation.
“A new toy?” She eyed it with an amused smile.
“It’s a sock inside a sock,” Jack explained, slipping on a pair of oven mitts. “He seems to like it. And I saved him some of the drippings to go with his dry food.”
“Between the display and dog toys, you’ve become quite the crafter,” she teased, tossing the sock for Fitz to fetch.
“What can I say? I’m a natural.” As he slid the Cornish hens from the oven, he breathed a sigh of relief, admiring their perfectly golden sheen.
Truthfully, he couldn’t wait to see their display all lit up the evening of the carnival. While it looked completed to the outside world—appeasing Mayor Burns—they’d decided to save the big reveal, setting a timer for the lights to turn on after nightfall on Christmas Day. He frequently daydreamed about witnessing the moment with Kat by his side… and maybe stealing a few moments beneath it.
“So, where are we going tonight?” No sooner than she’d seated herself at the table, Fitz pranced over, propping his head in her lap for more ear scratches.
Kat happily obliged, and Jack stole glances in their direction as he arranged the Cornish hens on a serving plate. He didn’t think he could ever tire of the heart-melting sight.
“Do I have to explain how a surprise works?” Grinning, he set the plate beside the flickering candle.
He hoped he hadn’t overdone it on the ambiance. Between the candlelight, crackling fire, and instrumental Christmas music playing softly in the background, the mood was decidedly romantic.
As he leaned across her to set the baking dish of garlic potatoes in the last remaining inch of space, he caught a whiff of her perfume—heady with a hint of spice. He didn’t recall smelling it before this evening.
His stomach performed a double backflip.
Was it possible he wasn’t the only one with more than friendship in mind?
Or was it only wishful thinking?
* * *
Kat hadn’t wanted dinner to end, but as they stood in the breathtaking cavern, she changed her mind, completely captivated by the stalactites dripping from the ceiling like a crystal chandelier above a stunning underground lake. The smooth-as-glass surface shimmered in the soft glow of several lanterns.
“Neat, huh?” Jack’s arm brushed against hers in the dim lighting. And even though they both wore thick coats to ward against the cold, musty air inside the cave, the sensation spread a tingling warmth across her skin.
“It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
“We’ll have to come back in the summer when they hold concerts on the water. It’s pretty incredible.”
He’d said the words as casually as if he’d recited the weather report. Had he forgotten she’d be gone long before summertime? The thought immediately sobered her.
Their tour guide—a spry, elderly gentleman dressed like an eighteenth-century gold miner—raised his lantern, illuminating the dozen or so faces gazing at him in furtive anticipation. “Welcome to this year’s Caroling in the Caves.”
Kat’s spine went rigid. More caroling? She’d barely made it through Pajama Christmas, her brain working overtime to suppress unwanted memories.
Jack reached for her hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “It’s going to be great.” His features softened as he smiled, and he looked so sweet and expectant, she couldn’t argue.
Lacing her fingers through his, she squeezed back, relishing the comforting pressure of his palm against hers. It was the most intimate physical connection they’d ever shared, and she marveled at how safe and reassuring it felt. Maybe the experience wouldn’t be so bad with Jack by her side.
