Mistletoe Kisses

Cal comes back, but he’s talking on his cell phone. After he hangs up, he tells me a tow truck is on its way, but the shop is only open until seven and apparently they’re booked solid. They said they could squeeze him in at the end of the day for just a single tire change, but that definitely means we won’t be going home anytime soon.

Since I know he didn’t even want to come here with me to begin with, I expect him to look a little more annoyed, but he seems surprisingly upbeat. He looks adorable, too, standing there with snow falling on him, clinging to the coarse fabric covering his broad shoulders and catching in his thick, dark hair.

He always looks incredibly handsome, whether he’s brooding or in a rare good mood, but there’s an added something about him right now. Some sparkle of mischief in his eyes that makes me feel like he didn’t just take a sledgehammer to my heart yesterday—or if he did, it’s old news.

I know that’s not the case. Part of the reason he’s in a better mood today could even be because of his stupid date with Mystery Girl. I’ve been dying to ask about it, but I can’t. There’s no way I can possibly approach that without it being weird.

Pulling me from my thoughts, Cal looks around at the falling snow and says, “Since we’re stuck here anyway, we might as well walk across the street and check out that festival you were so excited about.”

So, after the tow truck comes and hauls his car to the auto shop, we do.

It’s nice, doing something Christmassy with Mr. Scrooge. He’s more like post-ghost Ebenezer than grouchy Scrooge today, and it’s a nice change of pace.

I’m more comfortable to be here with him out in the open, too, since we’re a couple towns from home. Plenty of people pass us as we make our way to Winterfest together, but they’re strangers so it doesn’t matter if we’re seen.

Cal is taller than I am with longer legs and a broader stride, so he gets ahead of me as I dawdle, looking around at all the holiday decorations. When he realizes it, he stops and waits for me to catch up. Then, almost without thought it seems, he reaches down and places a hand at the small of my back, bringing me with him as he begins to walk again.

“You want some hot chocolate?” he asks, since we’re approaching a pop-up coffee booth advertising the warm drink.

“Yes, please,” I say, reaching into the pocket of my coat and drawing out my cashmere gloves. I didn’t need them just to walk to and from the book shop, but if we’re going to walk around outside, I need to put them on.

Cal releases me and steps forward, ordering a coffee for himself and a hot chocolate for me.

Armed with our steaming hot drinks, wandering around the festival is more enjoyable. There are tables set up, a little Christmas marketplace. There are lots of different things—tables with crafts for sale, small toys, homemade bead jewelry. It’s mostly cheap stuff, but my eye catches on something glittery—Christmassy headbands.

My hair is down today, and every time a gust of wind hits, it blows in my face, so I could really use one. I pick out a red headband with glittery green holly leaves and grin at Cal as I put it on.

“How do I look?”

“Festive,” he says dryly, as he draws out his wallet again.

We make our way over to the

lively ice rink to watch people skate. Despite the weather, a lot of people are out on the ice. A little boy calls out for his parents to watch how well he’s doing—right before falling on his little butt and skidding across the frosty surface. I laugh a little and my gaze shifts to a couple, holding hands as they wobble across the ice. Neither appears to be very good at it, but they’re both smiling, clearly having a great time.

“Do you know how to ice skate?” I ask, looking over at Cal.

He glances away from the ice to look at me and shakes his head. “I’ve never tried. I had a pair of roller blades when I was around 10, probably more or less the same.”

“I bet I’m better than you,” I say mischievously.

Cal cocks an eyebrow. “You think you are better than me? Have you ice skated before?”

“Nope. Betting on blind faith. Only one way to show me up,” I tease, cocking an eyebrow.

Cal rolls his eyes at my transparent attempt to goad him into ice skating with me, but he doesn’t tell me it’s a hard no, like I expect. “What size skates do you need?”

I have no idea, but I can’t believe he agreed, so I haul him over to the skate rental booth before he can change his mind.

There are a lot of people already in line, but it gives us a chance to finish our warm drinks before we have to put on skates.

Cal rents us each a pair and we put them on while a volunteer explains the basics. It’s little help when I take the first step onto the ice and wobble all over the place.

“Oh God, I’m gonna fall.”

I don’t, though. Call is right beside me, steady on his feet. When I flail, he grabs my arm to keep me stable. Not even bothering to hide his smugness as he drifts around to stand in front of me, he asks, “Now, what was that about you being better than me?”

I roll my eyes. “It was a tricky first step, that’s all.”