She snickers—half in protest, half surrender—and I pull her into me. I wrap her arms over my shoulders, and then I wind mine around her waist, moving in closer. We sway on the sidewalk, moving together to the music’s lazy swing. Her heels slip once as I move to spin her and bring her back. She laughs, seemingly at the absurdity of this moment—at strangers embarking on an adventure in the city, yet stopping to dance for no reason at all.
I swing her again and dip her this time. When I pull her up, we’re so close that our noses are practically touching. I can still smell the whisky and mint on her breath, and it’s making me want to taste her lips.
“Still want to go ice skating?” My eyes flit between her eyes and her mouth.
She nods and swallows. “Uh, yeah. But … I think we’ll make a stop first.”
I raise a brow at her innuendo.
She laughs. “Looks like I found someone on Santa’s Naughty List. Get your mind out of the gutter. I’d say you really need to get on the ice and cool down.”
“Hmm, you think I’ll like it, do you? Even though I haven’t been on skates in years?” I smirk.
“I think you’ll hold your own. You look pretty … athletic to me.”
Our eyes meet, and the corners of her mouth tug up.
She doesn’t seem to know who I am, but she knows I’m friends with Aaron, so her guess is right. I’m just surprised she isn’t saying anything about it or asking me how Aaron and I know each other.
“In fact, I am pretty athletic. But I still need you to hold my hand until I get used to it.” I move in just a little closer. I’m an inch away from taking her lips when a horn honks loudly next to us, drowning out the music.
She pulls away. “That’s our ride. We should get going.” Her hand comes up, and she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Okay, yeah. Onto the next adventure.” I follow her to the waiting car.
CHAPTER
THREE
Liam
We travel just a few blocks and pull up to a building that says Bergdorf Goodman a few minutes later. We probably could have walked to get here faster, to be honest. There are some Christmas decorations in the windows that look like something out of an old-fashioned movie.
“We’re going shopping?” I ask her.
“We’re going to run inside for a few essential items.” She scoots closer to me so we can get out on the same side of the car.
“Are they still open?” I look out the window and then turn to her. “I’m actually staying at The Plaza, which I think is right down the street. I can just run to my room and change.”
“The clock is ticking to get some socks and a pair of gloves for you.” She pushes me a little. “Open the door. It’s time to scoot.”
“Okay, let’s do it.” I exit the car and hold the door open.
I take her hand as she climbs out of the car.
“Thank you, Blitzen. Let’s go get what we need to continue our night of fun.” Her eyes are sparkling again, and she acts like she’s walking into a candy store.
“You like to go shopping?” I chuckle.
“Sure, but I’m more excited about what comes after the shopping. Okay, let’s split up and go get what we need and meet back here in ten minutes. Does that give you enough time to find everything?” She turns to face me.
“Just tell me where I need to go, and I’ll get it done. I’m a guy, so the first pair I see will work.” I hold out my hands and smile.
“Right, okay. You go that way.” She points behind me. “I’m heading this way.” She throws a thumb over her shoulder.
We both take off quickly, and I make my way to the men’s department and spot the accessories. I pull a pair of light-gray wool socks off the fancy table, then move to the next section, where hats and gloves are displayed. I’ll skip the hat, but I grab a pair of gray leather gloves. Considering I’m wearing all white, I feel like the gray will blend in a little better than black would. I mean, I’m no fashionista, but I can practically hear my mom’s voice in my head, leading me to the gray. I guess I’ll find out soon enough if I made the right color choices.
I don’t know what I’m doing here. Bergdorf, of all places. Holiday chaos, lights flashing, music on the speakers. I left a wedding an hour ago.A wedding.The kind of thing I usually bail on before dessert. And now I’m in Midtown, chasing after a woman I barely know. That’s not me. I don’t chase. I don’t … do this.
