“Let me grab my coat,” he said.
“Hello, Deacon,” Aunt Ro said, coming out from the storeroom. She was carrying some books. “Well, don’t you look very handsome today.”
Oh.
I was not a fan of compliments, and two in as many minutes was my limit.
“I’ve already embarrassed him,” Winter said, coming over, now wearing his brown coat and orange beanie and holding a box of cookies. He grinned at me. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
I held the door for him and he ducked his head as he walked by me.
We walked to my truck and I opened the door for him there as well. “Oh,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
His smile made my heart thump, and when I got in behind the wheel, his eyes were on me, his cheeks pink. “Are you cold?” I turned up the heat.
“No.”
“Your cheeks are flushed.”
He laughed and fanned his face. “Because . . .”
“Because why?”
“Because you held the door for me twice just now, and that’s a first for me. Plus the poem you sent me this morning was possibly the best ever. It made me very happy, and seeing you just now, being so handsome and cute. That made me happy too. It’s a happy blush.”
My face grew warm. “Oh.”
He chuckled. “Are you cold?”
“No.”
“It’s just that your cheeks are flushed.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and he laughed. “I’m just kidding, Deacon. I’m very happy today, that’s all.”
I met his eyes. “I am happy too.”
He looked away first, which I think was a record for me. “You know, if you keep this up,” he said, looking out the window, “I just might think that silly story about Hartbridge’s Christmas Cupid is real.”
Goodness.
“I would be inclined to think it’snotreal. The idea of mythical beings with a bow and arrow lacks any foundation in reality.”
He laughed before his eyes met mine. “What about fate?”
“Fate?”
“Yes. The predestination of people meeting, of paths crossing.”
I thought about that for a second. “I... I’m not sure. Can I get back to you on that?”
“Yes, you can.” Then he held up the cookies. “I bought the raspberry shortbread cookies. I hope Mrs. Stevens likes them.”
Oh, yes.
Right.
