His fingers flexed in the pockets of his coat just like when she kissed him. He wanted then to take her around the waist and pull her close, to give her exactly what she needed, a thing she was far too afraid to ask for let alone to demand. He knew it was only because it had been so long, and it was inevitable his libido would someday make a not-so-gallant return, but why the fuck now? And why was it inspired by someone who clearly loathed him?
As if she could feel the intensity of his gaze and the circles his tongue made on her skin in his mind, Piper turned. He expected anger, for her to taunt him about staring like a creep or to snipe at him about hurrying up because she had things to do, but instead she just held up the empty wrapping triumphantly, and she smiled. “Can I get up now?”
Kol bit his cheek, liking too much the hidden sweetness in how sardonically she asked for a permission she didn’t really need. He nodded but followed close behind when she swept to the nearest trashcan. She was much surer on her feet though, and he carried on behind her as they took a different road.
Piper walked with a purpose once she was fueled, planner out again, crossing off names, and this time she avoided every pole and sign with precision that was impressive for a human. Soon Kol found his hands full of her purchases again, but she was chatting to him about what stores she was planning to go to next as if she didn’t despise his company. Then she slowed, lifting her eyes from the lists to the nearest shop’s window, odd since she hadn’t hesitated going inside anywhere else.
“Are you malfunctioning, Pipsqueak? Don’t tell me the food’s already worn off.”
Piper rolled her eyes, but she cracked a grin. “No, it’s just that we have the same one.” She stepped right up to the display and pointed out the miniature buildings nestled into white felt behind the glass. The village was set aglow from inside its windows, each piece an expertly crafted moment trapped in ceramic. “It usually goes right on the mantle, but nobody’s brought it out of the basement yet. It probably got buried last year.” The window fogged up with her breath. “It’s so pretty, isn’t it? Mom would move the little people around every couple of days and tell us they came alive at night. I guess it’s kinda like that shelf-elf thing, huh?”
“Did they snitch on you to Santa too?”
Piper shook her head, smile growing. “No, no, they had their own drama to deal with. Like that couple lost their dog once, and those two kids were long lost cousins but didn’t know it. Oh, look, there’s my favorite carousel horse, the one painted like a zebra.”
Kol watched the minuscule horses slowly spin, but only long enough to see what she pointed out, captivated instead by the glee on her face. “I bet you named every one of those.”
“Oh, no I didn’t. We don’t actually have the carousel. It’s not practical.”
Kol snorted. “Nothing about a tiny village that you set out at Christmas time for no other reason but to be dusted and stared at is practical.”
“Well, I know that.” She shook herself of the dreamy gaze she’d been giving the whole display and began to trot off. “It’s just that a town doesn’t need a carousel to function. They need a bakery and a school and a post office—”
“And they need a little fun.”
“Well, fun isn’t always in the budget. But lunch is, so come on.”
There was a deli a few roads over, and while Kol thought at first she was crazy for wanting to sit outside with their soup, he eventually saw why. Off the back of the restaurant was a deck overlooking a massive lake. Behind, mountainous rock climbed up and away, dotted with pines. Skaters carved their way across the shallower, frozen parts of the lake, and the sun glinted off the ice.
“I never get sick of this view,” she said, sighing into her soup. “I’m here all summer, and every day is more beautiful than the last.”
“I can’t really imagine you laying out on the beach all day.” Kol could, however, imagine her stripped down to a bikini.
“Well, I definitely don’t do that! I’m a park interpreter during the warm months, but it’s just a part-time position. There might be something full-time when Sheila retires, but I don’t know if they’ll hire me.” She snorted. “I mean, I cut down a seven-thousand-year-old tree, so clearly I’m not qualified.”
Kol frowned, chasing around a piece of broccoli with his spoon. He didn’t like that he’d put that thought into her head. “There wasn’t really a way for you to tell how old it was,” he mumbled.
Piper just sipped at her soup, both hands wrapped around the bowl as she held it under her nose. Her dark eyes had lightened, held open wide as she watched the ice, and a breeze caught at strands that had come loose from her bun. “Skating was Dad’s favorite, but he says he’s too old now. He’s only fifty-five.” She laughed quietly to herself. “I guess it does hurt when you fall, but it’s worth it when you get going fast, and the wind is in your face like you’re flying.”
Kol blinked—was that…was thatfunshe was referring to? He put down his soup and nudged her. “Let’s go.”
“What, out there?” Piper balked and shook away that lovely, inspired look from her face. “There’s already a day set aside for ice skating: Christmas Eve-Eve.” She pulled out her planner again and showed him the schedule.
“Come on, Pipsqueak. I saw how much of your list you already crossed off. There can’t be anything else that important on it.”
“Everythingon the list is important. And you don’t know, there might be even more pages you haven’t seen yet.”
“Great Transcendental Gods, strike me down now if she’s got more pages.”
But Piper was intent, only giving them five more minutes to finish off their soup before hustling to the other side of town, the lake and fun forgotten.
The warmth from lunch lingered in Kol’s belly as he walked at Piper’s side, and it only intensified when she shared with him more details about the shops they passed. One time Presley stole a candy bar from A Thing or Two and their father made him return it and apologize—he’d never gone back in since. And there was the dentist who fixed Piper’s tooth that summer she went over the handlebars of her bike on the mountain trails. She laughed about that, and the sound was as surprising as the fact she was laughing at all.
Piper brought him to another store, the front window littered with balls of yarn and bolts of fabric, the sign above the door readingSewin’ Love. Instead of heading in, she came to an abrupt stop and turned to him. “Can you, um…leave me alone for a little bit?”
Whatever flame she’d lit in his center was immediately snuffed out, and he held up the bags she’d been making him carry. “I’ll just take these back to the truck then?”
“Great idea.” She nodded. “And don’t hurry back.”
