A Snowflake Wish

Immediately she quipped, “Nothing.”

“Little liar. Don’t worry, I’ll get it out of you later.”

In silence, they finished loading her bag with molasses, brown sugar, and the spices they had already collected. One of the stands had a display of candies that both January and Deckard’s mouths salivated over.

“I bet you’re ready to admonish me right now for all this sugar, aren’t you, Doctor?” January teased as she flung one of the sugar-coated gummy balls into her mouth.

“If you were my patient, I would scold you for more than your sugar intake. But it’s okay to let yourself indulge in something delectable every now and then.” January wasn’t positive, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Deckard was referring to more than just the candies presented to them. He only added to her confusion as he grabbed a handful of chocolate candies and shoved them into his mouth.

She expected when he smiled that his mouth would ooze with chocolate froth. But not Deckard – she should have known better. When he smiled, his perfectly straight white teeth glistened as if they weren’t holding back a mound of goodness behind them.

The woman selling the candies handed January a cup of coffee that she ordered.

“I hate you sometimes, you know?”

“Why?” he asked as he reached for her cup of coffee to take a sip. Usually, January didn’t like to share her beverages, but she figured since she wanted to do intimate things with Deckard they could probably share a drink.

“Because you’re like. . .perfect. You look like a freaking dark-haired Thor, you’re obviously smart, and you can make me laugh – which is a hard feat in itself. Believe me, that makes you quite the perfect catch. Why do you even want to hang out with me?”

As he handed her back the cup of coffee, Deckard asked, “Why wouldn’t I want to hang out with you? You’re obviously beautiful, and smart, and I like making you laugh – it may be my favorite sound. And, January, you should know that I want to do much more than just hang out with you.”

She felt the Styrofoam cup slip from her fingers, but she could do little to stop it as the cup tilted back and spilled the hot liquid all down her favorite ivory blouse. She instantly pulled her ruined silk shirt away from her chest, wishing that she had kept her jacket closed instead of leaving it unzipped.

Deckard rushed to help her, but the damage was done. “January, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just a clumsy mess.”

Deckard grabbed her bag and tossed the coffee cup into the trashcan nearby before ushering her away from the crowd that was growing around them, watching in rapt interest. “Come on, let’s get you out of that shirt before you catch a cold.”

“Can’t catch a cold from a wet shirt in the winter,” she added smartly as she followed his brisk steps toward the parking lot.

“No, but you can catch hypothermia,” he replied in a voice that sounded both concerned and angry. His stance was stiff as he rushed them through the crowd, his steps were quick and powerful.

Finally, they reached her car and he immediately reached into her purse to grab her keys, unlocked her doors, and started her car. She imagined that he was turning the heat on full blast.

“Get in and take off your shirt.” Deckard didn’t just ask, he commanded.

“Excuse me?” she asked in horror.

“You need to get out of the wet shirt and we need to see if you have any burns. Take it off and zip up your coat. I’ll make sure no one is looking.”

“Yes. . .well. . .you’re looking.”

One of his dark brows raised in defiance and January knew that it was going to be a battle she lost if she fought against his demand.

“Fine,” she growled, stomping over to where he stood by her open driver’s side door. January glared up at him and boldly slipped her arms out of her coat and handed it over Deckard to hold. Without moving her gaze away from his eyes, she quickly maneuvered each and every button of her blouse, yanking it free of her jeans with an earnest tug, and then pulled it free of her body with ease she didn’t feel.

January didn’t care if anyone saw her, it’s not like she was naked, but as a brisk wind picked up while she was standing in her bra, her nipples puckered behind the confines of the nude lace from the chill. She could see that Deckard was doing his best not to look down at her chest, attempting to be the gentleman that he was, but his perseverance was wearing thin.

He held out a shaking hand with her coat when she asked, “I don’t think I have any burns. May I have my jacket, please?”

Even though January knew that he was trying to keep her from getting sick, she felt a small sense of pride that she was able to affect him in a similar way that he affected her.

Jacket in place, she zipped the material completely, the top of the coat reaching just under her nose. “Better?” she asked, the sound muffled by the shield.

“Not even close,” Deckard replied as he tugged down the zipper a tad so that he could see the remainder of her face. “There, now I can see you. Go get warm. I’ll be right behind you.” He placed a kiss on her lips but gave her little time to react as he spun around on his heels and headed toward his own vehicle.

She hoped that he remembered her parents were going to join them tonight to help make the gingerbread houses because with the way he just left her, he had a completely different itinerary on his mind.