Nick moved a little closer, grinning mischievously. “Are you thinking of kissing me?”
I chuckled, pushing him gently back. “I wasn’t until you mentioned it.”
“Hhmm.” Instead of frowning, Nick continued to grin. “So, that’s a happy in Christmas Mountain smile?”
“Yes.” I picked up the paint roller and coated it with paint. “Let’s keep moving. I only have so much time before I have to open the dance studio tonight.”
Nick went to the shelves. “I had to buy support brackets for this. It’s like someone tried to rip it from the wall and then thought better of it.”
I rolled the last section of wall with the soft teal paint without comment. I suspected my mother to have done the tugging, perhaps out of desperation. It seemed that all members of my family were on edge this holiday season.
“Hey, Nick.”
“Yeah.” He wedged the tall faux fur box against the shelving unit.
“If you were my guidance counselor, what careers would you have me consider?” Why not ask Nick? He claimed to know me better than anyone, after all.
“Is this a job in Christmas Mountain?” Nick positioned a bracket on the top corner of the shelving unit, which seemed like it would help shore the square form.
“Yes. What are my skill sets?”
“Besides kissing?”
I could feel his gaze upon me. I paused my rolling movement and spared that flirt a smile. “Obviously.” I went back to rolling.
He went back to fitting the bracket in place. “You’re good with kids. Didn’t you say Joy had applied to college to be a teacher?”
I let the idea float through my mind. “I feel no spark of enthusiasm to be a teacher.”
“Okay.” Using a drill, he screwed the bracket in place on the side. “You’re good with people. What about a nursing assistant? You could work in a doctor’s office.”
“Does this involve giving shots?” I set the roller down, shuddering.
Nick climbed up the ladder he’d brought and attached a screw to the top of the shelving unit. “You’re good at mixing drinks. You could be a bartender.”
“I’m not a night owl.” I picked up a brush, dipped it in the paint, and ran it slowly down the corner of the wall.
Nick rummaged in a bag for more screws. “If you’re good at mixing, you could be a sous chef.”
“Yoursous chef?” That didn’t seem wise.
“The job would have its perks.” Nick drove another screw into the bracket.
“You mean kisses.” My back was turned to him so he couldn’t see me grin.
“I was going to say free meals. But kisses could be negotiated.” He sounded so certain. But he sounded certain about almost everything in the future.
I put more paint on my brush. “Don’t you worry that our relationship will fizzle and then our friendship will – ”
“Be no more?”
“Yes.” I stared at him from my safe little corner.
“No.” He’d shed his jacket. His shoulders filled out a deep green Sleigh Café T-shirt nicely.
“No?” I wanted to run my hands over those shoulders and follow the line of his biceps down to his hands. I wanted to feel his steadying presence as he held my hands in his. I wanted to know that whatever step I took next, I wouldn’t fall flat on my face, whether that step was career or relationship-wise, if only because he was by my side.
Oh, I was falling, all right.