Page 136 of Mistletoe All the Way

She looks up at my head. “You and your dog are wearing matching Santa hats?”

Like that’s the most unbelievable part.

“Shockingly, I got a little used to Santa costumes while I was here. Go figure. Can I come in?”

She swings the door open without a second thought. “Yes.”

When it closes, we stand there, inches apart. The air is charged. It’s electric even. I want to tug her into my arms, hold her close, and never let her go. Instead, I start simply. “Can I kiss you?”

“You show up at my home close to midnight on Christmas Eve. You’d better kiss me and shower me with gifts.”

My woman knows her mind.

“Consider it done.” I drop the bag, cup her cheeks, and kiss her like it’s been years rather than a little more than twenty-four hours.

She tastes sweet and minty. Some of the citrusy scent of her hair drifts into my nose. She smells like home. No, that’s not quite right.

She smells like… forever.

I could stay here forever too, but I let go since I have things to say. Lots of them.

“Did you get my text?” she asks, her brow furrowed.

“When I was about forty-five minutes from Barney’s. Figured I’d surprise you instead. By the way, did you know Barney’s stays open later on Christmas Eve? Last-minute gifts and all.”

“I didn’t know that,” she says, then guides me to the couch.

Sitting next to her, I open the red-and-white sack. “I brought some of your favorite things,” I say, the music still playing on the phone in my pocket, but shifting to a new holiday tune, a tune I would have switched off a month ago with a harrumph. Not now. Now, I let it play.

Originally, I’d planned on shopping for her when the contest ended, but then I was called out of town, so those plans fell by the wayside. Where there’s a will there’s a way though. I reach inside and give her the first gift. “I didn’t wrap everything since some of them I picked up on the drive back today. It’s hard shopping on Christmas Eve while you’re traveling.”

Her brow knits with confusion. “Did you work today?”

“We’ll get to that,” I say as she takes the cinnamon honey sticks. “Your favorite candy.”

“They are.”

I reach for another gift. The chocolate oranges. “Oh, look. These are mine. But I think you’ll like them too.”

“I bet I will.”

I dip my hand in again, finding a cowboy hat.

It’s pink, because why not? I put it on her head. She looks so incomparably cute in her fuzzy red pj’s with snowflakes on them and a pink hat.

I go again, this time grabbing a fruitcake.

“Wait, you said favorite things,” she teases.

“It’s a metaphor. Work with me.”

“Fair enough.”

I reach in once more, handing her some whipped cream.

Her eyes sparkle. “Oh, I do like this.”

“I know,” I say, stopping to drop one more kiss on those lush lips I’ve missed so much.