“The end of what?”
“She’s one hundred percent in favor of us kissing again.”
“Can’t say I disagree.” He smiled when her lips quirked. “What’s your opinion on the matter?”
“I’m still deciding,” she answered haughtily. She tossed the package into the basket he carried, and they moved on.
Outside, he begged her to pose for cheesy pictures with him in front of every Christmassy backdrop they passed, including the trolley.
“Where are you posting these?” she demanded.
“Nowhere. They’re just for me.”
“Oh.” She was quiet a moment. “Well, text me the best ones.”
He did it on the spot. Then, he directed her to one of the snack stands set up around the fountains. “No holiday outing is complete without hot chocolate.”
She held up her hands and spread her fingers, as if to indicate the lack of gloves. “You drink hot chocolate when it’s cold. It’s not cold. It’s sixty-two degrees.”
He pretended to be affronted. “Miss Jessica Davenport, we areadultsand we can drink hot chocolate anytime we damn well please.”
His remark got her laughing, and she gave his gut a light whack…that ended in a furtive caress. Was she feeling him up? He didn’t mind that at all.
As they waited in line, he peppered her with trivial questions.
“Marshmallows or whipped cream?”
“I can’t have both?”
“Peppermint or caramel?”
“On what? Never mind. Caramel. Always caramel. Anything mint-flavored makes me think of toothpaste.”
“Tea or coffee?”
“I am not a morning person, so give meallthe coffee.”
“Gingerbread or chocolate chip?”
“What kind of monster do you think I am? Chocolate chip.”
He adored the way she never answered a question with a simple yes or no, A or B. Every time she opened her mouth, her personality spilled out along with her words. She might not know it, but she was sharing more of herself than she realized.
Once they had their drinks, they sat at a small café table and sipped.
“Good?” he asked.
“Mmm.” She closed her eyes and savored. “So good.”
She had a tiny bit of whipped cream on her lip. He ached to lick it off. Instead, he pointed, and her own tongue darted out to catch it.
Almost as good.
She drank more of her cocoa, watching the people around them as he watched her. Her prickliness guarded a heart that had been hurt. He didn’t know how or when, but he’d have to work extra hard to change her mind and show her that he’d changed his.
He hated that their conversation eleven months ago had been about his refusal to be tied down, and now, that was all he wanted. Cheesy as it sounded, he wanted to tie them together with a big Christmas bow.
How could he make her believe that if she didn’t want to?
