Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
It’s also sweet that he’s pretending to believe I killed Santa. I feel bad that I’ve pulled him into my mess, but having him on my side, whether he believes me or not, is helping to calm me.
At the diner, we clear our plates pretty quickly. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. The bell over the diner door goes off, and a group of girls walk in. They take a booth not too far from us. I wouldn’t have paid them any mind, but I notice they are staring at Mac.
I don’t like it. Not one bit. He’s already nicknamed me. That should make us boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s mine. At least in my mind he is.
“What’s wrong?” Mac asks, pulling out his money before dropping a bunch onto the table. I go for my purse, wanting to put in my share. “Don’t even think about it, lil bit.”
I quickly pull my hand out of my purse.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the girls walking toward our table. I don’t miss the extra sway she puts into her hips as she passes by. Mac doesn’t give her so much as a glance; his eyes never leave mine.
“Lil bit. What’s wrong?” he asks again. “Besides the whole you killing Santa thing and the fact that you may have ruined Christmas.” He smirks.
My mouth drops open for a moment before I burst into laughter. He stands from the booth and offers me his hand. I take it. He pulls me up and into his arms, wrapping them around me tight.
“I’m going to fix this somehow,” I mumble into his hard chest. I know that I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure there’s a Christmas this year.
“We’re going to fix this.” I tilt my head back to look up at him. He drops a kiss onto my lips. I smile against his mouth when I hear the girls’ jealous comments. I can’t even be mad at them right now, because if I were in their shoes, I’d be lusting after Mac too. I mean, I did break his mailbox on purpose in order to get his attention. So who am I to judge anyone else?
It doesn't take us long to get back home. As soon as I enter the house, I go over to the kitchen counter and snag the Santa hat off it.
“This isn't possible.” I shake the hat in the air. “Even if I did know someone who fit the description that Cinnamon Stick gave earlier, how the heck would I get them to believe me without thinking I’m a total nutcase?” I glare at the hat. “I don’t have the suggested traits they want in a Santa, but here goes nothing.”
I put the hat on myself. I sit there and wait for something, hoping that glitter will shoot out or something. I don’t even care if it’s only the jingle phone thing that goes off. I need some kind of sign here. But nothing happens.
Mac looks down at me. “It looks cute on you.” He grabs the white ball at the end of the hat, pulling it off my head and dropping it onto the sofa. I plop down next to it, feeling defeated. “Maybe it’ll fit you?” I reach for it.
“Lil bit.” He says my pet name with a deep rumble in his voice.
When I look up, he’s gazing down at me with a look in his eyes that sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. “Wh—um, what?”
“I think we need to talk.”
Wow, that phrase is a cold bucket of water.
He tosses the hat to the coffee table and sits beside me, my couch groaning under his weight. “I know some crazy stuff is going on right now, but I’ve got your back.”
I squeeze his fingers. “I know.”
He clears his throat. “I’ve always had your back. Always. From the moment I saw you.”
I cock my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, lil bit, that ever since I first set eyes on you, I’ve known you’re something special.” He leans in and kisses me, his lips firm and warm and everything I’ve ever wanted.
Maybe I’m moving too fast, especially when there’s so much weirdness swirling around me, but when he kisses me like this—like we’re already bound together—I melt. In fact, I’m melting right now, my body pressing to his and my thighs going up in flames.
He groans into my mouth as he pulls me into his lap. His tongue is working wonders against mine, massaging and stoking my need for him.
Before I know it, he’s lifting me and carrying me to my bed. He lays me down and climbs on top of me, holding himself up on his elbows as he continues kissing me.
I pull him down to me.
“Lil bit, I’m too big. I don’t want to hur—”