A sharp tap on my window startles me forward until my teeth clash with Dean’s and my entire body jumps and spins. With my heart in my throat and a ball of nausea swelling in my stomach, I catch a moving body on the other side of my foggy window.
My lip throbs from our collision, and my hands shake. Grabbing the window crank, I wind the stupid thing down, only to discover Nick and his playful, much-too-smug grin.
“Aww, shucks, Anna Banana.” He grips the lip of my door and folds at the hips, peeking in at me and Dean. “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”
“You’re a jerk.” I check my reflection in the rear-view mirror and groan at my messy self. Splotchy cheeks, puffy eyes, and the beginnings of what may become a fat lip. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Mel told me to remind you about the dress fittings tomorrow at noon.” He flaunts a wide, taunting smile. “And then she said not to forget about delivering boxes across town for the festival.” His eyes flicker toward Dean. “Mr. Warner.”
Dean nods. “Mr. Ramos.”
“Is this car steamy cos you made her cry, or because you kissed the fuck out of her?”
“Nick!”
“Little bit of A,” Dean smirks, swiping his bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Little bit of B. But good news: Anna and I have decided to attend the tree lighting thing. Together. Some might even call it a date.”
Nick’s stunned eyes drop to mine. “Is that so?”
“Sure is,” Dean quips. “If you and Mrs. Almost-Ramos would like to join us, I reckon we could double and make an evening of it.”
Nick’s stare is like a warm, tickling itch on my skin. A reverence he saves almost exclusively for Mel. “Well shit, Anna Banana. Looks like we might see a Christmas miracle after all.” He whistles under his breath and pushes up to stand straight. “I’m positive Mrs. Almost-Ramos and I are available.” He claps the roof of my car and backs away. “I’ve gotta go for now.”
“To gossip,” I grumble. “It’s okay, Nick. You can admit it.”
“Totally going to gossip.” He spins on his heels and darts across the lawn. “Melanie! Baby. Break out the champagne. I’ve got juicy news!”
TWELVE
DEAN
I’m probably supposed to be resting my shoulder and planting my almost-invalid ass on the couch. In some alternate universe, I might even convince Anna to don a sexy elf costume, talk her into making me a never-ending supply of cocoa, and if I werereallylucky, pulling her down beside me where we could watch the greatest Christmas movie ever made.
Bruce Willis deserves our love and devotion.
Instead, I stuff boxes into the spacious trunk of her car and hum along toBaby, It’s Cold Outside.
“What the hell is this, Dean Warner?”
I startle straight, miss slamming my head on the underside of the trunk by a whisker, and peek across to find Anna on her porch, her sinful body wrapped in tight blue jeans, knee-high boots, and a puffy jacket that makes her look twice as wide as she actually is.
She holds her little dry erase board between her hands, my last message still bright red against the crisp white background.
Baby, it’s cold outside. Forget we’re strangers and come kiss me.
A single, pointed brow shoots high on her forehead. “I saw this board when I entered my kitchen an hour ago—it was blank—and you’ve been outside basically the whole time since. How is it possible you snuck in and wrote this when I was in the room the whole damn time?”
I place my hands on the top of the trunk and carefully lower the lid, pressing down until the lock engages. “Magic.” I pucker my lips and smile. “New proposal.”
Her eyes narrow to suspicious slits. “What?”
“Well… it’s Christmas, right?” I circle away from the car and wander toward the porch. My shoulder aches with a bone-deep fucking agony, but simplylookingat Anna Maxwell somehow takes most of the pain away. “We talked, quite successfully, I might add. We shared things neither is allowed to get weird and sympathetic about.” I move up the first step. Then the second. “You asked me out on a date, even. Which I knew would happen eventually, just so’s you know. I’m too handsome for my own good, and you’re a beautiful, healthy, wildly intelligent woman.” I climb the third and fourth step, grinning to combat her grinchy cynicism. “So, now I propose we kiss a little more.”
“You think so?”
“Mm.” I hook my good arm around her hips and drag her closer. “January will come soon enough, and when it does, we risk losing the Christmas magic. That meansthishas a time limit.” I press a gentle, closed-mouth kiss on the edge of her stubborn jaw. “To ensure we fully experience what’s on offer, I suggest we jump past theoh my gosh, we’re still new and this is awkwardphase, and dive headfirst intoAnna tastes fucking amazing on my tongue, and Iwant a little more of that.” To prove it, I drag my tongue the length of her supple lips. “I suggest younotworry about awkwardness, or January looming, or the fact I might, at any point, press charges for your part in running me down with your car.”
She chokes out a silly, heart-healing snicker, stealing a chunk of my soul with each bouncing sound.
