“You’re perfect,” he says, and takes my coat from the closet to hand it to me.
I laugh, even though my insides are a little quivery from the comment. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
He looks me over again, his gaze slow and lingering. “Yeah, but this time I really mean it.”
Another stupid little flutter goes through me. I poke him in the chest. “You really are a sweet talker, aren’t you?”
He captures my finger and holds my hand to his chest. I revel in his strong heartbeat. “And you taste as sweet as you look.”
My lips tingle at the reminder of our kiss, and he steps a bit closer, takes a strand of my hair and for the briefest of seconds, I think he’s going to kiss me again. But what’s surprising me most is how much I want him to. His head dips, and his throat makes a noise as he swallows. Our eyes meet, lock, and my lips automatically part. I wet them, and a growl crawls out of his throat at the exact same time Mabel barks. Brody backs
up quickly, like the sound snapped some sense back into him, and I should be grateful for the interruption. Should being the key word here. Mabel, jealous of the attention Brody is giving me and not her, worms her way in between us, and Brody laughs and pats her head.
“You be a good girl, and I’ll bring you back a treat.” He straightens. “All set?”
I nod, pull on my winter coat, hat, scarf and mitts. I head to the door and look back to see if Brody is following, but he’s standing there laughing and shaking his head. “Something funny?”
“You’re not going to freeze to death, that’s for sure.”
“As long as there are no maniac drivers and potholes, I should be okay.”
He groans at the reminder, and I laugh and swat him with the end of my scarf when he comes close. “You told me to dress warm, so I dressed warm.”
He pulls on his coat, and hat, which has a pompom on it, and now it’s my turn to laugh. “Your hat.”
“You like it?” He shakes his head and the big gray pompom bounces. That, combined with the sexy smirk on his face, has to be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Anything for attention, huh?” I tease.
He gives a slow shake of his head, his lashes falling slowly, only to open again. “God, you get me.”
“You’re such a goof.” I reach for his hat to tug on his pompom and his eyes go wide as he jerks away.
“You can’t touch this,” he says. “Not unless you’re a Seattle Shooter.”
“Is that right?” I ask, and purse my lips.
“Yup, Wes, the rookie on the team, is from Nova Scotia. It’s damn cold there. Anyway, his mother made one for everyone on the team. These are our lucky hats. You’re lucky you’re even allowed to look at it.”
“Athletes and their superstitions,” I say with a laugh. “Well, it’s a lovely hat, and I guess I’ll have to stick with this one.” I point to the light purple one I’m wearing. “Let’s go.”
We head downstairs and instead of going through the shop, we take the back door. The cool wind hits my face, the little part that is exposed, and I yelp.
“Come here,” Brody says and pulls me into him. He walks me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me. I grin. Who knew he had old fashioned manners? He circles the front and there’s another flutter in my stomach as he slides in next to me and smiles. “Ready?”
“Still not going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Nope.”
I just laugh as he starts the car and we head down the road. As he takes a few turns, my stomach tightens, because I’m beginning to guess where we’re headed and exactly what he’s up to. He pulls up to Santa Claus Land, and I take in a fast breath as memories bombard me.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks reaching out to give my hand a little squeeze.
“Yeah, I just…used to come here.” Every year my late husband and I would visit Santa Claus land. His favorite thing was the maze of Christmas trees. I haven’t been able to visit the place since I moved here. I assumed it would be too hard, the memories too fresh. But sitting here now, listening to all the happy sounds, music, laughter, it surprisingly fills me with a sense of peace. “I’m okay,” I assure Brody as he continues to scan my face, his brow furrowed with worry.
“You’d tell me if you weren’t?”
“Yes.”