“Why no, I don’t have to have the last word.” He laughs at the thought, and his chest bucks beneath me. “More like the last pie in the face.” His dimples dig in as our eyes hook to one another. “What’s this about you mass producing pies and then donating to the homeless shelter? You trying to singlehandedly give Holiday Pies a bad rap?” He gives my side a light tweak, and it’s only then I realize I’m still sitting on his lap. And seeing that the frozen ground is my only other option, I’m clearly staying put.
“Not a bad rap.” A ragged breath runs through me. “Just a fair shake at life.” A part of me is begging to spill the truth, but Sabrina’s face keeps popping up in the back of my mind, threatening me not to do it.
Graham winces a moment. “It’s okay. I know all about it.”
“You do?” Something in me loosens. I never intended to keep this a secret from him. Who cares whose idea it was? I’m so excited about the designer pies that I want to divulge every delicious ingredient to him.
“Yes.” He pulls me in a little closer, and his minty breath washes over my cheek. “Sabrina told me all about it. She said she had a brainstorm, and she asked you to test out at least a dozen pies in ways no one in my family would have thought up in a million years. That was really nice of you, Sprig.” He bounces me over his knee as if I were a three-year-old. “I owe you one for that.”
A dull laugh rattles within me, and that mountain is right back to sitting on my chest. “It sounds like you owe Sabrina one.” I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from telling the truth. I can feel it percolating right beneath the surface, ready to spew out at the slightest nudging in that direction.
He grimaces at the thought, and yet those dimples flirt with me mercilessly. “I thanked her right away. I think that’s plenty.” He winces. “But I’m pretty sure she’s looking for a monetary payout.”
“Money is her middle name,” I whisper as I do my best to push Sabrina out of the picture for a moment.
My heart grows heavy as I drink down his features. Graham Holiday has my adrenaline hitting its zenith just being in this close proximity. It’s almost alarming the way he’s that much more comely once you get within kissing range. Not that I’m going to kiss him. He’s practically an engaged man.
I clear my throat. “I’m sure you’ll think of something of value to gift her. I hear she’s partial to diamonds. Big ones. So get your wallet ready.”
A dark laugh rumbles from him, but Graham’s eyes never leave mine. “Fat chance on that happening anytime soon.”
“So you like playing hard to get. You do realize that will only motivate her.” It’s true. If anyone likes a challenge, it’s Sabrina Jarrett. She’s competitive to a fault, and she lives to play dirty. My stomach does a revolution at the thought.
He gives a slow blink. “I guess we have that in common.”
I reach down, readying to serve up a piece of snow pie myself when Graham catches my wrist. His gaze remains pinned on mine as his hand glides down and he threads our fingers together instead. It feels nice like this, holding Graham’s strong, warm hand, his flesh heating mine to furnace levels. My heart races up my throat as if trying to pop right out of my mouth to have a look around at the commotion for itself. I’ve never felt so alarmed by my emotions, by the fact my body is responding to another human being so volatilely.
The hint of a smile curls on his lips as his lids hang seductively low. Graham leans in as if he were about to brush his mouth over mine, and if he does, I don’t plan on stopping him. In fact, I’d brush mine over his just to soak in how soft his lips are. I lean in, just a breath more, then turn my face and my lips smack him over the cheek. And just like that, Sabrina pops in my head.
“Oh my God.” I back away abruptly. “I’m so sorry.” I clear my throat as I struggle to my feet, and he bounces up beside me as if he were on springs. “I must have tipped over.”
He gives a slow, sad nod as if deciding to play along with the lie. “And I helped keep you upright.”
“Yes.” It comes out lower than a whisper. “Thank you for that.” My heart thumps wild as if it wanted a replay of the moment that almost led to something spectacular.
Nick calls my name in the distance, and the two of us make our way back to the tree lot. We pick out a bruiser of a tree, a seven footer that’s as round as it is tall, and Nick helps hoist it in the back of Graham’s truck. We collect Noel, and Nick helps me wrap her in a blanket once we get in the cab. I hold her like a baby all the way home, and strangely enough, it feels as if we’re an official family—a broken family living in two homes, but nevertheless something about this feels right.
As soon as we get back to my place, Graham gets to the arduous task of landing the gargantuan pine in the tree stand I use year after year. It belonged to my grandparents and somehow made its way to me. It’s steel with a wreath forged into it, and I love the fact that every tree I will ever own will sit in the same spot all of my grandparents’ trees once sat. I help Graham stage it just right in front of the bay window in the living room, so that when I decorate it to the nines, the neighbors and dog walkers will be able to enjoy it. That’s half the fun for me—sharing its beauty with the world. I pull out a box of lights from the hall, and Graham and I string them up in record time. Once we’re through, we share a high five and glance over to find Noel curled up by the fire in her cozy dog bed, already snoring away.
“I guess I won’t know until morning what she thinks of it.” I look back to the tree lit up in a rainbow of pinks and blues, yellows and greens, purple as that night sky tonight, and I can’t help but fall in love with this beautiful spruce. But my gaze can’t seem to stay on that tree. Instead, I look to Graham, at how impeccably gorgeous he is next to the glorified evergreen, with the fire roaring behind him. Graham Holiday looks resplendent tonight. He outshined that night sky. He makes the tree look like a plain fallen bough. My heart brims as it starts in on that erratic tempo once again like it did at the tree lot.
Graham’s sky blue eyes hook to mine, and I can feel him drinking me down.
“So, what about you?” My voice pitches a moment. “Have you and Sabrina put your tree up yet? I mean, you got to admit, the raging fire, the magic of Christmas lights, nothing beats the fresh scent of pine. It’s all pretty romantic.” My chest bucks when I say that last part. In no way do I want to think about Graham getting romantic with Sabrina Jarrett. Not when I can still feel the stubble on his cheek over my lips. Even if that kiss was accidental, it has clearly left an impression on me.
Graham winces. “I have a confession to make,” he whispers. “I’m not in the least bit interested in Sabrina.”
My eyes widen at the thought. My heart begins to race as my adrenaline soars. “You’re not?” It’s all I could muster. A small part of me is very worried what the ramifications of such a confession might mean—for both Sabrina andme.
He shakes his head. “You still sorry about that kiss back there? When I’m kissed, I usually like to kiss back.”
“Oh”—my fingers touch over my lips a moment—“I thought we were calling it a rescue mission.” I bite down on a smile that demands to surface. “I was feeling tipsy, remember?”
His brows dip a notch, and my stomach dips right along with them. Graham is achingly gorgeous, and every last part of me demands to let him know that.
An enveloping heat sears through me as I clear my throat a moment. “So, you’re really not into her, huh?”
He shakes his head just enough for me to see it.
“Well, if that’s the case, maybe one more kiss wouldn’t hurt.” I point up, and he drags his eyes from mine for less than a second. “Mistletoe.”
“What do you know?” he whispers. “Mistletoe just so happens to be my favorite.”
Graham leans in, his lids hooding dangerously low as his fingers dig into the back of my hair. His mouth falls over mine with the slightest brush of the lips, then quickly comes in again for something far more serious. I wrap my arms around him as we fuse our mouths together, our kisses growing far more fevered and lingering by the moment.
My heart detonates in my chest one riotous wallop at a time as if every beat was working up to this incredible moment. Graham kisses me passionately, deeply, in a way that I have never been kissed before, and it’s as if a veil pulls back and the blinders fall off and I can see the truth plain as day.
I’m in love with Graham Holiday, and I have been all along.
