A Diamond For Christmas: Kisses on Her Christmas List / Her Christmas Eve Diamond / Single Dad's Holiday Wedding. SUSAN MEIER
him the ball of mistletoe her dad always put in the center. “Just hang this where the strands meet.”
He looked at the mistletoe, looked at her.
Then it hit her. The mistletoe was pretty, but it was plastic. They’d hung the silly thing in their living room for years and, basically, no one paid any attention to the fact that it was mistletoe or the traditions that surrounded it.
Obviously, Rory wasn’t so casual about it.
Embarrassment should have shot through her. Instead, when their gazes met, the warmth of connection flooded her. She really liked this guy.
But she’d already figured out that they weren’t right for each other. Plus, once he made a decision about her store, they’d never see each other again. They had no time to form a deep emotional attachment. There’d be no time for a real commitment. They’d spend so little time together there wouldn’t even be a brush with one. Was it so wrong to want another kiss?
It might not be wrong, per se, but it did lead them down a slippery slope. A slope she might not recover from if she actually fell for him in this little span of time they had together. If they fell, and he asked her to stay or asked her to come to Virginia with him, or ask for any kind of commitment at all, she’d have to tell him.
And she couldn’t do that. Not again.
She caught his gaze. “We don’t have to bow to the whims of superstition or tradition.”
He bounced the ball of mistletoe on his palm. “But what if we want to?”
Frissions of delight raced through her bloodstream. She couldn’t stop the pleasure that blossomed in her chest. But that only made her realize how easily she could fall and how careful she’d have to be spending the next few days with him at the store.
Still, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. She tapped his arm playfully. “Just hang the darn thing.”
They hung more tinsel in her dining room and threaded it around her doorways. With the shiny silver tinsel in place, she handed Rory a box of bright blue Christmas-tree balls. “Hang these on the tinsel…about three feet apart.”
“Okay.” He glanced at Finley, who had finished her dinner and was sitting, watching them. He offered the box to her. “Want to hand these to me?”
She shrugged. “I suppose.” She scrambled up from her seat beside the coffee table and took the box.
Shannon gathered their dishes and carried them to the kitchen. When she returned to the living room, Rory and Finley had a little assembly line going. Finley would hand him a blue ball. He’d hang it on the tinsel. By the time he turned for another ornament, Finley already had one in her hand for him.
“What do you think I should do with the drapes?”
Rory glanced over. “Do?”
“Should I loop some tinsel across the top?” She pulled some plastic fir garland from the big box on the floor. “Or maybe some of this fake fir stuff.”
Finley said, “It’s too green,” surprising both Shannon and Rory.
“Too green?”
“Yeah. The curtains are green.”
Understanding what Finley was saying, Shannon said, “Right. Maybe we should loop some tinsel around the garland so it stands out a bit.”
“Or just put up lights.”
“Lights!” Shannon said, liking that idea. “My parents left me all kinds of lights.” She rummaged through the box of ornaments again. She presented two sets. “What do you think? Little twinkle lights or these bigger lights that don’t blink?”
“I think you’ll see the bigger ones better.”
Rory laughed at Finley’s answer. “When did you become an expert?”
Finley’s nose wrinkled. “What’s an expert?”
“Someone who knows what she’s doing,” Shannon replied. “You’re a natural.”
Finley shrugged. But Shannon dug out the bigger lights. With her hands full, she kicked a stepstool over to the front window.
But before she could climb up to reach the top rod, Rory was behind her. “Need help looping those?”
She turned so quickly that she nearly bumped into him. Warmth exploded through her. So did ridiculous need. She didn’t remember ever being so spontaneously attracted to a man. But she was to him. And she’d already decided it was wrong. Or pointless. Or both.
She stepped back, putting some necessary space between them. “Just loop them across the top.”
Finley ran to the step stool. “I’ll help.”
Rory laughed. “You’re certainly enthusiastic suddenly.”
She shrugged. “This is kinda fun.”
Shannon ruffled her hair. “I told you.”
As Rory and Finley strung the brightly colored lights across the top of the drapes, Shannon rummaged for more decorations from the boxes her parents had left behind when they moved to Florida. She pulled out figurines of two kids skiing and figurines of people sledding and set them out on the end tables. She found a gold table runner and set it on the coffee table with red and green candles.
Seeing Rory and Finley were still stringing the lights, she decided this would be a good time for her to make some cocoa and headed for the kitchen. But she’d barely gotten the milk in the pan before Rory walked in.
“After the way you shot me down over the mistletoe, I’m guessing I should apologize for kissing you this afternoon.”
His comment surprised her so much that she turned from the stove. The repentant look on his face squeezed her heart. Because she’d been as much of a party to that kiss as he’d been, she’d be a real hypocrite if she let him take the blame. “No apology necessary.”
“Really? Because you’re kind of standoffish.”
She drew in a breath. What could she say? There’s no chance of a relationship between us, so I’m being careful? She’d look like an idiot. Especially since in this day and age a kiss didn’t necessary equate to a relationship. Hell, for some people sex didn’t necessarily equate to a relationship.
“I’m tired.”
“Yeah, me, too.” He took a few more steps into the room, walking to the center island, where she’d set three mugs on a tray. “What’s this?”
“Mugs for cocoa.”
He glanced up. Smiled. “I love cocoa. I haven’t had it since I was about eight.”
“Then it’s time you did.”
He laughed. “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to apologize for kissing you. I wanted to kiss you.”
Pleasure exploded inside her again. Why did he have to be so sweet? “Because I make cocoa?”
“Because you make me laugh. You’re a nice person. A good person. I’d be an idiot if I didn’t see how you’re turning Finley around. She’s actually humming a Christmas song in there.”
She walked over to the stove, stirred the cocoa mix into the warm milk. “I’m not really doing much of anything. I think Finley’s finally ready to be turned. I just have more Christmas things at my disposal than you do.”
He shook his head. “No. I think she’s ready because you nudge her along.”
She walked to the island, brusquely picked up the tray of mugs to take to the counter by the stove. But he caught her hand. “Why won’t you let me compliment you?”
“Because I’m not doing anything. It’s the season. The time she’s spending at the store.”