I ignore the shiver that runs through me as I meet his gaze again, blaming it on the chill in the air, despite the fact we’re standing by a heater.
Pulling my hand back, I look away, wrapping my arms around myself. “It’s probably a good thing you left early, anyway.”
“Why’s that?”
“After a few hours of dancing, we typically break out the karaoke machine. You’d probably hate everything about that.”
“Have you already forgotten what I told you the other night?”
“What’s that?”
He steps closer, his proximity causing my heart rate to kick up, those damn butterflies making themselves known.
“I’m just full of surprises.” He lingers near me for a moment, my gaze transfixed by his lips. I wonder what they’d taste like. If he kisses with all the tenacity and determination he seems to devote to every other aspect of his life.
He admitted he doesn’t half-ass anything. I have no doubt his kiss would be persistent, demanding, and so damn thorough it would ruin me for any man to come after him.
“I actually quite like karaoke.” Callum pulls back, his voice snapping me out of my growing inappropriate thoughts. “At least the part of watching people make utter fools of themselves, which is bound to happen when alcohol is involved, at least in my experience.”
“It is great entertainment.” I smooth a wayward blonde curl behind my ear, pretending I hadn’t been fantasizing about how Callum would kiss. A part of me thinks maybe I should just press my mouth to his and find out. Get him out of my system.
Something tells me he’s not the kind of man you can kiss or even fuck out of your system.
That once you have a taste, you’ll want more.
“It’s why I do it,” I add when he remains unnervingly quiet. “Granted, I’m surprised by the pipes on some people. Others… Well, everyone thinks they’ll be the next Taylor Swift after a few drinks.”
“I’m sorry I missed it. Maybe next week.”
I nod subtly. “Next week.”
“Unless you manage to chase me away before then.”
“Right. Of course.”
Several moments of awkward silence pass as we keep our eyes trained on the tree, neither one of us seeming to know how to act around each other. I try to remind myself he’s just a guest. I normally have no problem striking up a random conversation with anyone who visits Holley Ridge, regardless of whether they’ve lived in Sycamore Falls their entire life or it’s their first time visiting.
But Callum Reed unnerves me.
“Well, I should get—” I begin.
“Would you like to—” he says at the same time, both of us laughing nervously. Then he lifts his gaze to mine. “You first.”
“I was going to say that I should get back to work. Check on everything to make sure it’s all running smoothly.” I gesture at the crowds, a line forming for horse-drawn carriages and the ice-skating rink, not to mention for photos with Santa.
Truthfully, I could probably get away with spending some time with Callum. I have my radio and cell phone in case anything comes up.
I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be around him more than necessary. Not when he looks at me like he has been tonight.
Like he did the other night, too.
“Of course. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me. As always, your company has been quite enjoyable.”
“What were you going to say?”
“Nothing,” he answers quickly, increasing the space between us. “Enjoy your evening, Ms. Holley.”
With one last glance my way, he turns from me, making his way away from the festivities and along the path toward his cottage.
