Even though she’d given him permission to be close, she wasn’t ready for the way his nearness made her tremble. “I guess that means I’m the one doing all the work—typical.” She gave him a playful shove, creating some much-needed distance between them.
He smiled but stayed away, retrieving the deck of Christmas playing cards. “What do you mean?” He fanned them out and lifted them her direction, she picked a card without him having to ask. Six of hearts. Why was it always hearts with this guy? During their practice sessions, he’d do tricks as if it were second nature. She’d pick a card, put it back in the deck, and he’d shuffle and arrange in different ways and always come out with her card. Not once during the hours and hours they’d spent together had she picked a spade or a diamond.
“I was just kidding—it was a slam against my ex, meaning I was the one doing all the work in the relationship while he was the one working on seducing our real estate agent.”
He shuffled the deck and cut it for her to place the card inside. “Ouch!”
“I know.” She grew quiet as she watched him set out five sets of cards, each one laid out like a fan. He started shuffling the cards let tin his hand again as she continued talking. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m the type of girl men can’t be faithful to. Maybe I’m too boring to be a wife.”
Cards flew in every direction as he lost control of the deck. His mouth hung open. “Do you really think that?”
She’d seen him do a show, and he was quite convincing when he hammed it up, but this wasn’t like that. His confusion was real, his disbelief believable.
“Yeah. I mean, not all the time, but I wonder about it. I’m not that interesting.” She lifted a shoulder as if it were no big deal—even though it was. Even though she’d cried many times over the idea that no one would want her. “I mean, I could have tried harder to be more interesting for my ex, ya know? Dressed sexier, had highlights put in my hair, spent more time at the gym, joined a kayaking club. Something!” Her voice had gone up several octaves, and she clamped her hand over her mouth briefly. Her crazy was starting to show through. Her grandma would tell her to put on another coat of lipstick, lift her chin, and stuff those thoughts into her purse, because a lady doesn’t let her crazy show in public. And she certainly doesn’t let her man see her instabilities if she expects to keep him.
Breck’s not my man, she reminded herself. She wasn’t out to impress him or lead him to the altar. Therefore, she didn’t need to curb her not completely rational thoughts or dress to impress him. Heck, she was in a tank top and faded leggings with Rudolph faces splattered across them. If she was trying to grab his attention and hang on to it, she was doing a horrible job.
Except … He was listening to her, really listening—using his eyes and everything. One of her behavior class professors in college had said you could tell when people are listening to you because they used their eyes.
She moistened her lips, her thoughts jumping back to where she’d left the conversation train, her voice thoughtful instead of high-pitched. Just knowing he heard her made it easier to express her deepest fears. “Are all guys into extreme sporting women who can rock climb and skydive? Is this a requirement for a healthy relationship?” Because Sam had made her feel like it was. And when she didn’t accept his invitation to throw herself out of an airplane with him, he’d asked someone else to go. “Do I have to change who I am to be loved?”
Breck reached for a card in one of the fanned piles. The others were all over the place, but he had his eye on that one in particular. “You’re perfect just the way you are, Harmony. If he couldn’t see that, then he was—is—a fool.” He flipped over the card, revealing the joker.
She stared at it for a moment. How did he know where that card was? It wasn’t the card she’d picked. That wasn’t the trick, and yet it fit into their conversation perfectly.
As if reading her bewildered face, Breck reached for the card on the farthest fan, left side. He picked it up, holding it in front of him so she couldn’t see what card he’d selected. “And just because I know where the cards are doesn’t mean the deck is boring.” He set the card in front of her. It was the six of hearts. Her card.
“You really are magical.” She breathed the words. How else could she explain the way her heart was mending, stitching itself back together at his words—as if he’d cast a spell?
He smiled softly. “It’s Christmas. There’s magic in the air.”
She grinned, leaning over the table, needing and wanting to be inside the circle of his arms once again. Why had she ever told him she couldn’t kiss him again? The answer didn’t seem all that important anymore.
He brushed his fingers down her cheek and across her jaw, drawing out her desire bit by bit until she was bursting with it. Their lips touched once, twice, and the third time they didn’t separate. He tasted of gingersnaps and hot chocolate and safety and excitement and magical Christmas memories waiting be unwrapped.
She folded her arms behind his neck, never wanting to let go. He pulled her up with him, and then was on her side of the table, his body flush and strong. They finally pulled apart, her lips wonderfully swollen. Being brave, she locked eyes with him, bracing herself for rejection or distance or even a cool disinterest. What she found was a blazing fire of desire burning just for her. She couldn’t help it; she threw herself at him, knocking him into the chair and falling into his lap, where she captured his face and kissed him again and again—until her energy was spent and she laid her head against his chest.
He ran his hand down her hair and hugged her to his chest. “You,” he rasped, “are anything but boring.”
She laughed, pure joy coursing through her. “You think?”
He nuzzled her neck, making her giggle. “I know.”
She glowed so much she could light up the tree in the town square all by herself. Her phone rang.
“Do you need to get that?”
She stuck out her lower lip. “I probably should. Only, like, seven people have my number.” Her old phone was on Sam’s account, and he’d shut it down before he left for Barbados. Sam got most of their friends in the divorce, but she always felt like she’d gotten the cream of the crop.
He gently tipped her off his lap and onto her feet. She grinned as she fished in her purse for her phone. When it came up, her mom’s number was on the screen. “Hi,” she answered before it could go to voice mail. Did anyone set up their voice mail these days?
“Honey! Gorgie is coming home for the holidays.”
“Really?” Gorgie was her cousin. She’d grown up one town over and stayed close with sleepovers that would go down in family lore. When Gorgie’s boyfriend stood her up for prom, it was Harmony who let the air out of his tires—which turned out to be a good thing, because he’d been drinking and couldn’t drive home. When Alessandria ran Harmony’s bra up the flagpole at camp, it was Gorgie who “accidentally” knocked her into the lake on dance night. “I’d love to see her.”
“She’s bringing home a new fella. I don’t know if this one will stick, but he’s some kind of investor, or buyer. I don’t know. He works with stocks.”
Harmony laughed. “When she meets Mr. Right, it will be all over her Instagram feed.” Harmony’s cheeks burned and she turned slightly away from Breck so he wouldn’t see her blush. She’d just kissed his lips to kingdom come, and here she was joking about Mr. Right in front of him.
