“By the time I’m done with you,” I replied. “You’re going to be the perkiest Christmas elf this side of the North Pole.”
Dean released a beleaguered sigh that sounded a lot like,for fuck’s sake.
I laughed and broke away, trotting ahead to hunt down breakfast.
Despite Dean’s continued grumbling, he didn’t make excuses to duck out and bail. Instead, he let me drag him around the market with only mild complaints. When I piled my Christmas shopping in his arms, he merely rolled his eyes, resigned to his fate.
“Pushover,” Dad mumbled, sipping a steaming cup of cider.
“This is your fault,” Dean countered.
“Me?!”
“You’re the one who created this monster,” Dean pointed out as I looped a strand of tinsel with blinking Christmas lights around his neck. Even though he was scowling, I could see the affection in his dark eyes as he watched me stand back to admire my handiwork.
“You’d have to discuss that with her mother,” Dad said.
“That’s a chicken shit answer, Barrett.”
Dad laughed as he walked away, abandoning Dean to my antics. In the distance, a vendor selling custom snowglobes caught my eye and I dashed off, distracted by shiny trinkets. When I ducked under the awning, I nearly collided with a guy about my age. Wearing a puffy dark blue jacket, and reindeer antlers dusted with glittery snow, he was…cute, in that preppy boy-band kind of way.
“Whoa,” he said, chuckling. “Looks like someone can’t wait to get their hands on some Christmas tchotchkes.”
“Don’t test me,” I replied lightly. “You never know what kind of dirty tricks I have up my sleeve when it comes to knickknacks.”
His blue eyes swept over me from head to toe as he stepped closer. He smelled of warm spice like apple cider, and a hint of Axe body spray.
“Nah, I bet you’re one of those good girls who never gets coal in her stocking.”
“Appearances can be deceiving,” I countered.
The corner of his mouth twitched with an almost-smile. I recognized the pull of flirtation, and it wasn’t an unwelcome one. Although he didn’t give me butterflies the way Dean did. This guy just looked so…youngin comparison. A little gangly, too, as if he hadn’t fully grown into his body yet.
“I’m Reed,” he said.
“Ruby,” I replied.
“As in…Ruby Kent?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Have we met before?”
He shook his head.
“No, but I’ve heard about you. I’m visiting cousins for the holidays, and from what I gather, you’re the infamous girl who got away, because no one has been able to tie you down. Are your standards really that high?”
I breathed a laugh as the memory of a sleep-rumpled, half-naked Dean Ellison flashed through my mind from this morning. Wearing those damn gray sweatpants.
Oh, buddy, you have no idea. My standards are so high, they’re in the clouds, and I have no hope of meeting them. Ever.
“Maybe they are,” I replied.
Reed shifted even closer until only a few inches of space separated us. He lifted one gloved hand and pointed upward.
“Are we talking…the sky is the limit?”
Together, we glanced up. Low and behold, a bundle of mistletoe dangled over our heads, tied with a shiny red ribbon.
