“Good point.” She tucked the bottle into the bag in the backseat.
“Come on, say ‘Merry Christmas.’”
Holly shook her head. The scent of vanilla and sugar drifted across the front seat. She smelled like my favorite stage cookies. I was about to tell her so when she finally opened her mouth. “No way. You show me something good and I’ll say it. Until then, I’m going to keep my scrooge face on.”
“If you’re a scrooge, then I don’t even know what to call myself,” I admitted. “Because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
7
HOLLY
I’d seen the Christmas tree lighting at Rockefeller Center, attended holiday parties at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and walked in the big Thanksgiving Day parade through Times Square, but somehow driving through the lighted tunnels at the Broken Bend Festival of Lights affected me more than any of those classic holiday events ever had.
It was Zander. He had a story for every display. The whole town had come together to create the festival one year to raise money for a local resident whose home had burned down.
“That’s what the spirit of the holidays is all about. Giving without expecting anything in return. Making someone else’s holiday wish come true.” The way his mouth curled up at the edges while he spoke told me he meant every word.
I yearned for the holidays of my past when I still believed in Santa and thought anything was possible. That was when my parents were still together and made an effort to make the holidays a special time.
He stopped in the middle of a long tunnel of lights. They were synced with the music coming through the radio. The first few notes to “Walking in a Winter Wonderland” came through the speakers and the lights changed to deep, dark shades of blue and green.
“All of that sounds great. Unfortunately, my parents split when I was eight and ever since then I hated the holidays. All they did was fight over who had to take me. My dad always had a million events to go to and didn’t want me running around. My mom was more interested in finding her next meal ticket and I only got in the way.”
“That sounds awful,” Zander said.
“It was.” I looked up and met his gaze. I’d never talked about that time in my life with anyone, especially someone who’d been raised in foster care, which meant he didn’t have anyone to claim him. “Nothing like what you went through, though.”
“I’m not sure what’s worse. Knowing the people who are supposed to take care of you can’t anymore because they’re no longer here,”—he reached over and slid his hand behind my neck, then cradled the back of my head in his palm—“or knowing they’re here but just don’t care enough.”
I closed my eyes and soaked in the contact. It felt so good to be seen. When I cracked an eyelid, Zander leaned in, his mouth not more than an inch or two from mine.
He was going to kiss me. I knew it deep down in my gut, and I wanted him to. I even tilted my head, encouraging him to move closer.
His nose slid against mine. The very tip felt cold on my cheek, and I shivered.
“Are you cold?” he whispered into the sliver of space separating us.
I shook my head, not wanting to break contact.
“Because if you are, you can slide a little closer.” His hip rested against the center console, as close to my side as he could get without climbing over the barrier between us.
As Frank Sinatra serenaded us, Zander tilted his head and brushed his lips against mine. Warmth radiated out from my chest like it had when I took my first sip of my spiked cocoa. The song ended, and another one began. White and pink lights flashed around us, but neither of us moved.
I closed my eyes, giving myself over to the kiss—the first kiss I’d had in more than a year. Working for my dad didn’t leave time for dating and I’d never embraced one-night stands. The length of time since my last kiss made this one even sweeter. I leaned into him, immediately wanting more.
His mouth opened, and I did the same. He tasted like cinnamon, maybe from the cinnamon-sugar on the churros we’d had for dessert. His tongue slid next to mine, and he slowly explored my mouth like we had all the time in the world. Sparks rolled through me, not a barrage of earth-shattering explosions like I’d imagined I’d experience during the best kiss of my life, but more like a wave of mini fireworks. I felt settled, like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Zander had an aura of calm around him. He knew who he was and what he wanted out of life. The confidence he exuded was extremely attractive. Despite our rocky start on the plane, I wanted to get to know him better.
He pulled back and touched his forehead to mine. “Are you ready for our next stop?”
“There’s more?” The clock on his dash showed it was already after nine and we had a wedding to get through the next day.
“I told you I was going to remind you of the magic of Christmas. This is just the beginning.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then settled back in his seat.
“I might turn into a lump of coal if I’m not back to the hotel by midnight,” I teased.
He threaded his fingers with mine. “I guess I’ll be kissing coal then because I don’t see this evening ending any time soon.”