Running down a hotel
hallway in spike-heeled boots was second in dumbass moves only to breaking into
a rock star’s room and stealing his sweatshirt. What the hell was she doing?
“Hold the elevator!”
Kat yelled as she rounded the corner.
The doors sealed shut.
Jacob skidded to a halt
beside her. “Kat!”
Crap. Seeing
Jacob Morey again was a shock. Seeing how fantastic his chest looked with
muscles in all the right places was a ticket to a show she wasn’t ready for. A
show she might never be ready for ever again.
But he did look good
enough to eat, and she could describe herself as… hungry. His black hair hung
to his stubble-covered jaw while deep blue eyes pinned her in place. A snake
tattoo started on his left pectoral with a detailed head and open jaws flashing
fangs at her. The inked body and tail stretched over his left shoulder and
coiled around his left bicep. Kat had never thought much about tattoos before,
but this one made her insides flutter. She wanted to wrap herself around him in
a similar fashion.
No! No, I don’t. She had to go.
With the elevator
traveling down without her and the door to the stairs blocked behind Jacob, she
was trapped. How was she getting out of this one?
I’m going to kill Fiona.
Jacob reached out a
hand and she jumped back, her heart racing.
“Whoa.” He held out
both hands. “I’m not going to hurt you, Kat.” He pointed to the hoodie she
clenched to her chest. “Just thought I’d get less naked out here in the middle
of the hallway.”
Her arm shot out
without her telling it to do so, and his hoodie dangled from her hand. Guess
she wouldn’t be getting Fiona that Jake Pearson item after all. Damn.
She tried not to be
disappointed as Jacob covered all those muscles and that tattoo with the bright
red sweatshirt. He didn’t zip it up all the way, and she wondered if he were
playing the role of Hot Santa’s Elf for her on purpose or was that just a side
benefit?
“I’m sorry I busted
into your room and stole your sweatshirt,” she blurted, hoping an apology would
get him to move and allow her to leave. Because she wanted to leave. Didn’t
she?
“Technically, you
didn’t steal it,” he said. “I gave it to you.”
“Right.” She tapped her
foot, trying—maybe only half-heartedly now—to formulate a getaway plan. If she
stood in front of him as he looked all tall and sexy much longer, she might
toss the rules she’d put in place since The Incident, tug him back into his
room, and unwrap him like a Christmas present.
Kat never thought she’d
see Jacob Morey again. With all the time they’d spent together when they were
in school, she’d always thought he’d ask her out. She’d thought he’d liked her.
He was always around, making jokes with her, busting her up, but never in a
mean way. More like flirty teasing. She wasn’t sure what kept him from taking
the next step, but when they’d graduated, she went to college and he went to
California.
Then she’d met Marc,
French exchange student, who was into art and philosophy and had seemed so
mature compared to all the silly college boys littering campus. Turns out she was
the one who was silly—silly to believe Marc’s sweet nothings, whispered in
French, wouldn’t mean he’d take what he wanted.
Even if she wasn’t
ready to give it.
Thank goodness Fiona
had been her roommate at the time. Fiona had been studying with some other
girls in the common room in their dorm suite, had heard Kat scream, and dashed
into their bedroom, ready to kick somebody’s nuts in. She’d literally jumped on
top of Marc’s back and pounded him with her fists until he got off Kat and
shook Fiona off.
That hadn’t stopped
Fiona though. She’d marched up to Marc and punched him right in the nose. Blood
had exploded from Marc’s face. Swearing in French and glaring at both of them,
he’d left the room. Fiona had hugged Kat, asking if she was okay.
Because of Fiona, she was okay. Physically anyway.
Emotionally, Kat had locked everything down since then, too afraid to trust
anything that had a Y-chromosome.
But Jacob Morey had
never done anything bad to her. In fact, all through high school, he’d been
this… this presence. Someone she could count on for a friendly smile, a helping
hand, a kind word. Someone who had always been a gentleman.
She remembered a
holiday concert they’d played in their hometown. After entertaining parents
with Christmas tune after Christmas tune, the student musicians had gathered
around the snack table which was piled high with cookies. Kat only had eyes for
one kind of cookie though.
Gingerbread.
The ones she and her
grandmother had made for the concert. There wasn’t anything better in the world
than Nonnie’s gingerbread cookies. Nonnie always made them in the shape of a
heart because “Christmas is about love, Kit-Kat.”
When Kat had reached
out a hand to pick up one of the heart-shaped gingerbread cookies, she’d bumped
into another hand.
Jacob’s.
“Sorry,” they’d both
said.
Jacob had picked up two
hearts from the tray and held one out to her. “These are the best cookies
here.”
“My grandma and I made
them.” She’d taken the cookie he’d offered, pride swelling inside her that
Jacob liked what she’d baked.
“Of course.” He’d
smiled, and she’d become a little fascinated with his mouth, hoping for her
first kiss.
Instead, they’d both
stuffed the gingerbread hearts into their mouths and chewed silently as they
stood next to each other.
“You know what I need,”
Jacob said to her now.
She blinked out of the
concert memory and looked at him. “To call hotel security on me?”
He laughed, a raspy
chuckle that made her skin tingle. “No. I need gingerbread cookies.”
The grin on his lips
told her he hadn’t forgotten that concert night either. Was it possible he
regretted not kissing her then?
“I have a friend who
works in the hotel’s restaurant,” she said. “We made gingerbread cookies
together last night. I think I can get us some.”
“Heart-shaped?” he asked.
“Because they taste better in a heart shape.” He held his hand out to her,
slowly as if being careful not to spook her. Jacob may have been rock star Jake
Pearson, but he was still the guy she’d known—the guy she’d trusted—when they
were younger.
“Heart-shaped
gingerbread cookies coming up.” Kat slipped her hand into his and a wall
crumbled inside her when he intertwined his fingers with hers.
A loud ding sounded as
the elevator doors slid open. Have
Yourself a Merry Little Christmas wafted out into the hallway.
Maybe I will. Kat
tugged Jacob into the elevator then turned to face him. “Can I still give Fiona
that sweatshirt?”
He brought their joined
hands up and pressed his lips against her knuckles. “You’ll have to get it off
me first.”
Happy Holidays, my friends and Roses! May you always believe in Christmas miracles. Don't forget to join me at Small Town Hearts on FB for more holiday spirit.
Tune in tomorrow for Alison Henderson's story and continue the holiday fun.
Toodles,
Chris
www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com
10 comments:
Chris, this has such a great ending. Thank you for the charming story. What a terrific gift. Wishing you and your family a wonderful Christmas.
Love the ending. Thanks for the warm fuzzy feelings and smile. Merry Christmas!
What a sweet Christmas story. Well done, Chris.
The last line is classic! Great story, Chris. Merry Christmas to you, your family, and the werewolf.
Wrapped up nicely...lovely gifts for Jake, Fiona, Kat...and us! Feeling merrier every day!
I have to hand it to you, Chris--this is one of the warmest, fuzziest Christmas short stories I've ever read. Love, love, love it!
I'm just catching up. My schedule had me reading all 3 of your installments today. I simply loved it. And I could "hear" him say the last line. Awesome.
Thank you, my friends! These stories always fill me with such holiday cheer. And I always want to hear more from the characters we all create! Happy Holidays!
Hmmm, I read this yesterday, and I swore I commented, but I guess not. Love this!! What a perfect ending. You managed to fit humor, romance, tension and sizzle in very few words. Great job...loved it!
Perfect last line. Perfect start to a rekindled romance. Sigh....
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