His grin was contagious, and I couldn’t help but laugh. "And that's agoodthing?" This was early December, and Drake's tree had been set up for barely a day. I knew this because I'd come over yesterday to help Drake and his grandfather decorate it.
In reply to my question, Drake said, "Trust me, nothing on that tree is breakable." He gave it a quick glance. "And just in case, we've got ornaments to spare."
The tree was the real deal, freshly chopped by Drake and his grandfather – although to hear the older man talk,he'ddone all of the work while Drake sipped hot chocolate.
In reply, Drake had claimed he'd been perfectly willing to doallof the chopping himself while his grandfather drank coffee and yelled at the squirrels. This had caused his grandfather to insist that Drake was too soft to be chopping anything thicker than carrots for hobo stew – whateverthatwas.
This last bit had been a joke, obviously, because Drake was anything but soft – not withthosekind of muscles.
This was our first time alone together since my awkward attempt to seduce him. I mean, sure, we'd been spending plenty of time in each other's company, but most of that time had been spent here at Drake's place, where his grandpa might walk in at any moment.
I hadn't even kissed him – meaning Drake, not the grandfather, obviously.
But I sorely wanted to.And I was pretty sure he wanted to kissme.Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
A small jingling sound drew my attention back to the tree. Ginger had stopped climbing and was now batting around a clear plastic globe that contained a small red jingle-bell.
The louder the bell jingled, the harder she swatted. The globe surrounding the bell was one of dozens I'd helped hang yesterday, along with a slew of old-fashioned cloth ornaments in various Christmassy shapes.
As I watched, two more furballs leapt onto the tree and began batting at the cloth ornaments – George going for a miniature Christmas stocking and Fred going for a smiling gingerbread man. The two remaining kittens were asleep, nestled near Cash in a basket near the fire.
It was all so cozy I couldn't help but smile even as Ginger's ornament tumbled from the tree, hit the floor with an impressive jingle, and rolled under the recliner.
When I made a move to retrieve it, Drake said with a laugh, "Don't bother. What you've gotta do is wait 'til they're done. Then you pick everything up at once."
I turned toward him with a smile. "It sounds to me like you've got it all figured it out."
"Yeah," he chuckled. "Through experience."
Just then, a hollow thud sounded from somewhere in the kitchen. When I turned toward the noise, Drake said, "Water bottle."
I looked back. "How do you know?"
Drake grinned. "I've heard it a hundred times."
"Tango?"
"Oh, yeah. Sometimes I leave an empty bottle out on purpose so he doesn't go for anything better."
My gaze drifted to the poinsettia I'd given Drake nearly a week ago. It was now sitting safely atop a high bookshelf, well out of Tango's reach.
From everything I'd seen, Drake and his grandfather ran a pretty smooth household even in spite of Tango's antics.Had it always been this way?
I moved back to the sofa and reclaimed my seat next to Drake. "Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"I'm just curious. How'd you and your grandpa end up living together? Like, is he living withyou?Or is it the other way around?"
Drake studied my face. "Does it matter?"
"No, I'm just wondering, that's all." My cheeks warmed under his scrutiny, and I almost started to squirm. "Sorry. I don't mean to be nosy. Just forget I asked, alright?"
"You're not being nosy," he said. "I'm just wondering what prompted the question."
"I'm just looking to get to know you." I smiled. "That's what you said you wanted, right?"
He nodded. "Good point. So where you doyoulive?"
