The Mistletoe Motive(44)

“Made them do what?”

“Shh, I’m being poetic. Let me pep-talk you. You’re a rock star uncle and brother—you went and cleaned off your sister’s car before they left because it had snowed, I saw you. You’re smart and have the driest humor of anyone I’ve ever met, and if you’re anything like in my sex dreams, you’re an amazing lover—oh my GOD, I just said that.”

I clap both hands over my mouth.

Jonathan’s eyes widen. “What did you just say?

“Nothing.” A blush heats my cheeks. A blush like I see heating his cheeks, too. “I should go.”

Standing, I turn off the gas fireplace, escape to the back room, and start to bundle myself up for the walk home. I have to get out of here, before I say or do anything else to shatter this fragile, lovely thing we’ve built.

Friendship.

But then I feel him behind me, warm and close. So temptingly close. “Gabriella—”

“What I meant to say,” I whisper, in the semi-darkness of the store, facing away from him. I scrunch my eyes shut and take a deep, steadying breath. “Was that if she’s worthy of you, she’s not going to like knowing all of you, Jonathan.” I turn with his coat in my hand and set it gently in his arms. “She’ll love it.”

Jonathan slowly tugs on his jacket. I slip on mine. It’s not until I’ve pulled on my mittens that I realize I forgot to button my coat.

“Dammit,” I mutter.

Jonathan brushes my hands away as I start to remove my mittens and steps closer, deftly buttoning each one. He looks more serious than ever, eyes on his task, and I watch him with a knot in my throat. I breathe in his wintry woods scent and soak up the sight of him. “When will I see you?”

He fumbles with a button. “Soon. There’s a lot to work out with the store.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

His mouth tips at the corner. “Gonna miss me, Di Natale?”

“Like I miss an abscessed tooth.”

His mouth tips a little more. It’s the closest to a smile yet. “Good.”

And then we step out into the snowy world. Jonathan locks up, mouth pursed as he concentrates before he says, “I’ll walk you home.”

“Jonathan, you don’t have to.”

“It’s late, and it’s not safe for you to walk alone.” He turns and then gently clasps my headphones from where they sit around my neck, nestling them on my ears. “We don’t have to talk,” his muffled voice says. “We can just…” He peers out at the snow, then tips his face up to the sky.

“Be,” I finish for him.

He peers down at me, his eyes warm. “Yeah.”

And we do just that, long, quiet strides along the snow-packed sidewalk. Elbows bumping, eyes dancing each other’s way. I hum to myself, and Jonathan is silent, staring ahead, a soldier marching into battle. He looks so serious, and I wonder what’s heavy on his mind. But I don’t ask. Because I shouldn’t want to know. I shouldn’t want to drag him inside my apartment and warm him up and ask him to pour out his heart.

As we stop in front of my building, I turn and face Jonathan. “Thank you for your escort, good sir.”

He gives me a stern look. “You have no business walking alone, especially with those headphones on, understand?”

I shrug. “It keeps life exciting.”

“Exciting.” He massages the bridge of his nose. “Christ, Gabriella.”

Carefully, I step close and smile up at him, blinking away snow and the threat of tears. “Happy holidays, Jonathan.”

To my absolute dizzying delight and bittersweet astonishment, Jonathan wraps me in his arms and sets his cheek on the crown of my head. A long slow exhale leaves him. “Merry Christmas, Gabriella.”

We pull apart, setting necessary distance between us as I tell him, “Promise you’ll meet your online friend, okay?”

He nods. “I promise. And you, too?”

“Yes.” I swallow a lump in my throat. “I hope she’s everything you wanted.”

Jonathan stares down at me, searching my gaze. “I already know she is.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re so cocky. Some of us, however, who are also meeting our anonymous online pen pals, are quaking in our snow boots.”

“Your Mr. Reddit better be quaking in his boots. He’s got a lot to prove before he’s worthy of you.”

A blush heats my cheeks. “I’m talking about what he thinks of me. I’m nervous. But I’m thinking I’ll go baptism by fire and show up in my ugliest Christmas sweater. It plays music. If he can handle that, we can make it through anything.”

Jonathan’s face breaks into a smile so devastating, it knocks the air out of my lungs. It transforms him, two gorgeous dimples carving down his cheeks, his eyes crinkled handsomely at the corners. His throat works as he laughs loud and deep. Then he drags me into his arms again, hugging me hard as he whispers something into my hair.

“Hey!” I squeak. “Stop smothering me! You finally smiled, and I’m missing it!”

He pulls back and exhales roughly, the smile gone, replaced by something raw and fierce.

“What is it?” I ask.

But he doesn’t answer me. He opens my building’s door and nudges me inside. And then he sets his gloved hand on the glass of the door. I set my hand there, too.