Page 94 of Meet Me on Mistletoe Lane

The cold wind moved around us, rattling the Christmas lights hanging on our porch railing, and I smiled at the familiar, cold scent. “Smells like snow.”

He looked at me skeptically. “Snow has a smell?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, I’m game.” He leaned against the nearest post. “What does snow smell like?”

I closed my eyes and pictured all the times I stood in our yard, face up to a cloudy sky, waiting for what I knew could be minutes or hours away, remembering how my stomach always fluttered with excitement, and then later, the pure joy I’d feel at that first snowflake touching my skin.

“The air goes very still,” I whispered to James, almost reverently. “It’s clean and crisp, sharp…in a way that only happens right before the snow falls. Only then, you get the briefest hint of earth, deep and woodsy.”

I opened my eyes and found James watching me intently, his mouth opened just a little.

He blinked quickly and then a slow smile spread across his face. “I’ve been around snow my whole life but never noticed that before.”

“Most people don’t.” I shrugged. “They’re just too busy speeding by to stop and pause.” I looked around at the quiet stillness of my street, the lazy glow of the lamplight and their outlines stretched across the cold ground. “Small towns are good for slowing down and appreciating those moments.”

He tilted his head. “I’m beginning to see that—”

“You gonna just stand there all night?” a familiar voice heckled from the next house over. “Or are you gonna kiss her?”

“Marco Ulderico Mancini, get your head back inside this house and leave your poor cousin alone!” Aunt Helen yelled.

“I’m helpin’ the guy out, Ma!” he yelled back before someone yanked him back inside.

“I’m going to kill him,” I mumbled, my entire body now burning with embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I, uh, kinda needed the boost.” He stepped toward me and leaned in, angling his head just a bit, waiting for me to move closer, to allow what I knew was a kiss to happen. “Is…is this okay?”

Before I could conjure up three scenarios about everything that could go wrong like bumping noses or having food in my teeth, I closed the space between us, stretching onto my tiptoes and placing my hands on his chest before I, too, leaned in and let my lips brush his.

He tasted of chocolate and strawberries and a smidgen of salt, and I blushed even more at the feel of his rapid heartbeat underneath my fingertips.

A whistle sounded through the air followed by the distinct sound of a hard smack and then Nico cursing.

We pulled away laughing, and I dropped back to my normal height, tucking my hair behind my ears. “My cousins are…”

“Family.” James shrugged. “I don’t see mine much, but when I do I have to remind myself that they’re not perfect, but they’re mine.”

I chuckled.

“Goodnight, Gianna.” He leaped off my front porch steps and walked backward, grinning goofily all the way to his Jeep, stumbling once before giving an awkward half wave.

“Goodnight,” I whispered, feeling lighter than I had all day.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“It’s going to be easy. Like peeling a turtle.”

—Holiday Inn

At school the next day, Jo and I worked in the library helping Ms. Diaz with her midyear inventory. Each of us took a Chromebook and scanner and went to work scanning every book on the shelves. Jo and I took the nonfiction section, since it was all grouped relatively close together, allowing us to talk quietly while we worked.

“I can’t believe Marco and Nico did that,” she said, gently pulling one book out just enough to see the barcode and scanning it before pushing it back on the shelf.

I huffed. “Yes, you can. Because I definitely expected it.”

“Still…” She stopped scanning for a moment. “If you had to rate this kiss…”