“And I’ll have one of those mystery bags, because why not?”
“Make that two.” With one hand behind her back, hiding Holly’s present, Mack grabbed another mystery bag. “Like you said, Millie, it’s a bargain. Oh, and do you mind if I use your phone?”
Chapter 11
Mack
Mack fumbled with the key card, her frozen fingers struggling to grip the plastic. The wind howled around them, whipping snow against their faces as they huddled in the doorway of their motel room.
As they stepped inside, shaking off snow and stamping their feet, Mack’s jaw dropped. The room had undergone a complete transformation in their absence.
“Oh. My. God,” Holly breathed beside her.
Tinsel garlands were wound around the backs of chairs and the bedframe, glittering in the glow of colored lights that had been haphazardly draped across the walls and stuck on with duct tape. The curtain rod was wrapped in a garland of silver and gold, with tiny ornaments dangling precariously. In the corner, a life-sized inflatable Santa grinned at them, his plastic face reflecting the twinkling lights in a way that was slightly unsettling.
“I think the cleaning lady might have gone a bit overboard,” Mack said, unable to suppress a laugh.
Holly joined in, her giggles turning into full-blown laughter as she took in more details. “Look at the nightstands!”
Mack turned to see two small plastic Christmas trees, one perched on either side of the bed, their branches adorned with miniature ornaments and twinkling with built-in lights.
“Why am I not entirely surprised?” Mack shrugged off her coat, hanging it on the back of a chair.
Holly was still chuckling as she removed her own coat. “I feel like we’ve stepped into some kind of Christmas fever dream. All we need now is?—”
She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she looked up. Mack followed her gaze and felt her breath catch in her throat. There, dangling from the ceiling directly above them, was a sprig of mistletoe. “Oh…wow. Okay.”
Their eyes met, and Mack felt the atmosphere in the room shift. Holly’s cheeks were flushed, whether from the cold or something else, Mack couldn’t be sure. But the way Holly was looking at her, with a mixture of nervousness and something that looked a lot like desire, made her heart race.
“Well…I guess the Mistletoes really commit to their name,” she said with a goofy grin.
“Yeah…” Holly’s eyes never left Mack’s.
They stood there for a moment, neither moving, the silence stretching between them thick with unspoken thoughts. Mack found herself hyperaware of every detail—the way Holly bit her lip, the soft rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the faint scent of her perfume mingling with the crisp winter air that clung to their clothes…
The playful glint in Holly’s eyes sent a surge of warmth through her, cutting through the lingering chill from outside. Holly’s lips curved into a hesitant smile, the kind that felt like an invitation but with just enough uncertainty to make Mack second-guess everything. The air between them grew thick, almost palpable, as if even the garish decorations had fallenstill, waiting. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, each beat louder than the last, but she forced herself to speak.
“Do you think it’s bad luck if we ignore it?”
“Let’s not risk it.” Holly swallowed hard. “I mean, it is tradition, right?”
Mack took a small step closer to Holly and reached out, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. But Holly didn’t move, and Mack gently cupped her cheek and stroked it with her thumb. Her skin was cool from the outdoors, but she could feel the warmth beneath, the faint shiver when Holly’s eyelashes fluttered at her touch.
Holly’s lips parted just enough to make Mack’s knees weak, and that single, silent plea in her gaze was all Mack needed. She leaned in, slowly, and stayed perfectly still, Holly’s breath warm and shallow against her lips as they hovered just a heartbeat away.
When Mack finally closed the gap, their lips met softly, but the impact was anything but gentle. Holly’s lips were soft, yielding, and she tasted faintly sweet, like the remnants of the chocolate fudge they’d shared earlier. But it was the way Holly responded that made her dizzy. Holly’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, deeper, until there was no space left between them, just the heat of their bodies and the intoxicating sensation of lips against lips.
Mack’s hand slid to the back of Holly’s neck, her fingers tangling in her hair as she tilted her head, deepening the kiss. She could feel Holly’s breath hitch, the way her body pressed closer, melting into her like she’d been waiting for this just as much.
Time seemed to blur, the world outside falling away until all Mack could focus on was the heat of Holly’s mouth, the way her breath mingled with hers, the soft, needy sound Holly made in the back of her throat. If there ever was a perfect kiss, this was it.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting together, Mack’s breath came in ragged, shallow bursts. Holly’s eyes fluttered open, and the look in them—soft, vulnerable, but laced with that same raw desire—made Mack’s heart stutter.
“Merry Christmas,” Holly whispered, her lips curving into the smallest, breathless smile.
Mack could only nod, still trying to catch her breath, her fingers still tangled in Holly’s hair. She wanted nothing more than to lean in for another kiss, to lose herself in Holly’s embrace. But before she could act on that desire, a sharp knock at the door jolted them apart. She let out a frustrated sigh and glanced at Holly, who looked equally flustered, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen.
“I should…probably get that,” Mack said, her voice husky. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself before opening the door. On the other side stood Maude, balancing a tray with two steaming mugs.
