12 Days of Mistletoe

23. Bonnie

TWENTY-THREE

bonnie

“Now Elliot,” May says, “put your arms around her back. No one stands there like a dead fish to kiss the girl they’re crazy about. Come on, now. Look alive, boy.”

Elliot’s jaw is slack and open. He snaps it shut and blinks from me to his gran. “Does Bill have to be here for this?”

I’m with Elliot. Do we really need an audience for “practice”?

“Yes. I needed another opinion and yours cannot be trusted. What do you think, Bill?” May raises her voice, peering at my friend through her phone.

“When did you learn to make a FaceTime call?” Elliot asks her.

“Just because I’ve never FaceTimed you doesn’t mean I haven’t known for ages.” May sets a hand on her hip. Her eyes skirt back to the phone. “Bill taught me at the center today.”

I smother a laugh because if I don’t laugh, I’ll start sweating and shaking and possibly even crying. Nope, laughing is much better .

“What do you think, Billy?”

“Billy?” Elliot says. He pushes the phone in her hands down so that Bill is now looking at our shoes. “Gran, what’s going on here?”

“I’ve made a new friend?—”

“One you’re suddenly calling ‘Billy’?” Elliot says, real concern in his voice.

“Bill is a good guy. A good friend ,” I tell him. “He’s quite devoted to the memory of his late wife.” I tilt my head, giving him a knowing look.

Elliot’s creased brow and narrowed eyes study mine. “Fine.” He sighs. “What do you want here, Gran?”

May holds up the phone again. “All right, Bill, any suggestions on his hands? They’re just flopping around down there.”

“Well certainly not at his sides. Come on, One-thirty, is this the first time you’ve touched a girl?”

May giggles. “Oh, Bill. You are a funny one.”

Elliot looks at me again—after all, I’m the one who called him harmless and dedicated to his dead wife. “Ha. Ha,” he says, no emotion in his voice. “Hilarious.”

“Come on, Elliot.” I clap. We can do this now or we can draw it out all night. “Hands,” I say, picking up Elliot’s palms and placing one on each of my hips. A tickle makes its way from my fingertips, his skin on mine, up into my chest.

“That’s progress,” Bill says, his bushy brows furrowing as he tries to study Elliot and me through the small phone screen. “Come on, son, you can do better.”

“Yes,” May says, agreeing with Bill. “ Come on , Elliot.”

They’re so hard on him. May is much more critical than she was last night. So, I help the man out.

I lift my hands, latching them around Elliot’s neck. I almost feel like Noel as I quietly stroke the nape of his neck with my fingers. May doesn’t see it, and Bill certainly can’t. It’s just something to calm his nerves. Noel sits with her butt on Elliot’s foot and her chin on mine, apparently sensing that we’re both a little uncomfortable.

And holy—we are. This feels as insane as it did the day before. May said it would get easier with time. She was wrong. Somehow I’m more anxious today than I was yesterday.

Elliot peers down at me and we wait for our senior citizen-kissing instructors to spout more directions.

“Arms around her back,” Bill says.

“Yes, do that, Elliot.” May waves her one free hand our way.

Elliot’s back arches just a little as his hands move from my hips to my back. I move a few inches closer to him with the motion.

My chest bumps his and a small “ Yeep ” escapes me. I blink up at him. “Sorry.”

Elliot breathes out a small, lifeless laugh. “It’s okay.”

“Sorry?” May says. “There shouldn’t be any space there at all. You’re on the right track, Bonnie. Closer!”

“Gran,” Elliot moans—without any emotion. We both know we’ve lost this fight and his objections have less oomph to them.

“Hold her,” May says, hands out, one with the phone and Bill pointed our way.

“Now,” Bill says, “kiss the girl.”

I blink up to the mistletoe May has purposely placed us beneath. I swallow, hoping I don’t still have decaf coffee breath.

“Okay?” Elliot says, a question for me .

My heart thunders and I say a small prayer that he can’t feel it thumping into his own chest. I blink and give the smallest of nods, consent.

Elliot’s mouth hovers a centimeter from mine for only a second before I shut my eyes and wait. Warm and sweet, soft and strong claim me.

All at once, I am no longer in control of my limbs. My arms tighten their hold around his neck, my fingers threading through Elliot’s short hair, and I pull him closer to me.

Elliot teases my lips open, and I forget for a second where we are, that this should most definitely be a PG kind of kiss. Instead, I let him kiss me thoroughly, deeply, into oblivion. I kiss him back, only contemplating the softness of his down-pillow lips, and what they do to my insides.

“Maybe they should be giving us lessons, May.”

That voice shouldn’t be here.

Not while I’m kissing Elliot like this.

My lips and tongue freeze. My teeth grazing Elliot’s bottom lip have halted mid-graze. He slips himself from my hold and I press my swollen lips together. I’m up on my toes—though I’m not sure when that happened—and I drop back to my heels.

“That was good,” May says as if she’s simply agreeing with Bill. They are judging the competition for the most seductive kiss, and Elliot and I have just won. “Kiss her just like that tomorrow.”

I swallow. “Um, tomorrow?”

“Christmas tree hunting,” May says. “I’m too old to be cutting down trees. I won’t be going. But you will and I want you to kiss Elliot just like that in front of his whole family.”

Okay—forget odd, this just jumped up to crazy town .

“Surely not just like that,” I say with a delirious, breathy laugh. No one should ever kiss anyone like that in public. I never meant to.

“ Just like that,” May says, giving me that I-can-see-you-even-when-I’m-not-around eye that mothers seem to have.

“Sounds great, Gran. We will be sure to do that. Bye, Bill.” Elliot is in speed mode; he speaks like he’s just passed his auctioneer test. And then he hangs up on Bill.

“Elliot James. That was rude,” May says. “Where are your manners?”

“You’re right,” he tells her. “I don’t know where my manners are. I’m going to drive Bonnie home. Do you need me to come back?”

May swats his hand, still on her phone. “I’m not an infant. I don’t need you to tuck me in.”

“Great, I’ll call you in the morning.” He’s still earning that speed-talking degree when he snatches a hold of my hand and tugs me to May’s front entrance. Noel’s collar jingles as she trots behind us, right on our heels.

“Bye, May!” I call while Elliot forces me out into the cold. It got pretty warm in May’s house. I’m sweating.

On May’s front porch, Elliot pauses his quick pace. I look up at him, waiting for his explanation.

“You can’t kiss me like that in front of my mother.”

“Oh.” I swallow. I mean—sure, that makes sense. “Right. Of course not.”

“Are you okay?” His brows cinch together as if we were just in a traumatic accident together. Huh—the best kiss of my life might be something traumatic for Elliot Eaton.

“Yes, I’m okay.”

Elliot runs a hand through his hair. “Okay.” He sighs. I think that kiss truly exhausted the man. “Are you able to go tree shopping tomorrow?”

“Sure.” I shrug. “I can go.” I’m not at the center tomorrow and my other jobs are all pretty open to my own scheduling. I can walk the dogs in the morning or at night if I need to.

A smile touches his eyes, putting me at ease after his panic. “Okay, then, I’ll pick you up.”

I lift one brow. “That shouldn’t be too difficult seeing how we live in the same building.”

“Oh yeah. You’re making this whole thing easy for me,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.