Trapped Under the Christmas Tree (Christmas Tree, PA Sweet Romcom #1)

Chapter 12

Tessa

I stick around until I am sure that the medics have cleared him and he isn’t going to the hospital. He is still talking to people, including two ladies from town who seem to be a lot more interested in flirting with him than they are in whether or not he is okay. That is the deciding factor that makes me stand up and walk back to my apartment with my two empty mugs of hot chocolate and my blankets and tent. The Christmas gifts that are no longer brand-new and beautiful.

I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do with them, but it doesn’t really matter. Sure, my librarian salary is minuscule, but I think I can afford to buy a couple extra Christmas gifts. I’ll just have to knock down my personal book budget.

I’m a little keyed up, so I end up making myself some more hot chocolate after taking a hot shower and changing into fresh, cozy jammies. I don’t know why, but I always make enough hot chocolate for two. I should have cut everything in half and just made one cup. I’m definitely not going to be drinking two before I go to sleep tonight.

I’m standing in the kitchen, cozy socks on my feet, pouring my hot chocolate into a clean, fresh mug, and planning to lie in bed and look at the Christmas lights I had put up in my window with a book I’m half finished with, when there is a knock at the door.

My apartment isn’t big enough for a full-size tree, so I have a small one in my living room, and that and the Christmas lights in my bedroom are my nod to Christmas decorating.

It’s almost one o’clock in the morning. Who could be knocking at my door? Are they investigating the incident? Do the cops need my statement? Surely they would have asked while I was sitting down there.

Christmas Tree is a small town. It doesn’t even occur to me that the person outside my door might be some kind of murderer. I go and realize I never even locked it after I walked in. I could have just called out for them to come in since it was open.

I shake my head. I probably should be a little bit more careful. I’m going to end up as a headline one of these days.

I open the door, and I almost close it immediately, I’m so surprised.

Jake is standing on the other side.

“Tessa. I’m sorry. I know it’s late. Did I get you up?” He seems concerned, and he also seems to be rambling as the words trip off his tongue one after the other.

His nervousness makes me smile.

“Come on in. I just made hot chocolate.”

“I’ll never turn down your hot chocolate,” he says, stepping inside.

I notice that he’s favoring one leg. “Your leg must hurt. You’re limping a bit.”

“I don’t mean to be. It twinges. After all, there was a tree lying on it for several hours this evening, but it’s not terrible.”

I close the door, and we’re in the kitchen. I don’t have to invite him anywhere. My apartment is postage stamp size. And it just got a lot smaller with the large man who walked in.

“I like to hear that. I was concerned you just didn’t realize how badly you were hurt.”

“I suppose that was a possibility, but I’ve been walking on it now for a while. They wanted to take X-rays, but it seems silly since there is no reason.” He pauses as I step to the stove and pour the rest of the hot chocolate in a second cup I grab from the cupboard. “But that’s not the reason I’m here.”

“Okay,” I say cautiously. I want to know what he’s doing there.

“I’m here because I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to talk to you. First, to thank you.”

“You already did. I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done,” I say as I set the pan down and snap the lid on his cup.

“I don’t know about that. But I am grateful.”

I hand him the cup, and his hand wraps around it, his fingers overlapping mine. Normally, I would pull my fingers away, but my eyes cut to his, and I get the feeling that he’s touching my fingers on purpose.

“But I guess being there with you for several hours made me realize that the perfect woman, the kind of woman I’ve always wanted, actually does exist.”

That makes my lip curve up. It sounds like a line.

“I’m sorry. That sounded terrible.” He shakes his head, and somehow he ends up with the mug of hot chocolate and my hand drops to my side.

“I guess it did sound like a line,” I say. I feel cautious. Jake has so much experience in this area, and I have basically none. I’ve never really dated, although I’ve been asked out a few times. But it’s never led to anything. Mostly because I don’t do a whole lot of talking, and when I’m out, I do even less. I know the fault is mine. Somehow.

“It wasn’t. I promise. I... I realized as we were there that...” He shakes his head again. “Let me just say, I like you. I really like you. I realized tonight what kind of character you have and what kind of person you are. I thought about the way you interacted with this town over the last dozen years or so, and...” He trails off while I’m hanging on his every word.

Finally I say, “Let’s go sit down.” It feels out of place. Like I should set my hot chocolate down, wrap my arms around him, and say, I feel the same way about you. I really like you too . Or something like that, but... I don’t. Obviously. Instead, I ruin the moment by saying we should go sit down.

I turn to the living room, where I have two small recliners.

“I think I’d rather dance,” Jake says, and I stop abruptly.

“Dance?” I say, turning slowly to look at him, my head tilted.

He nods. “I think it will be good for my leg. It would help it...work out the kinks.”

“All right,” I say, not exactly sure whether he’s got all of his marbles or not. “Are you sure the tree didn’t hit you on the head?”

“I’m sure.” He gives me a smile. That charming, irresistible, gorgeous smile that I’ve admired from afar for years. But he’s giving it to me. Me. Right here in my living room. And he’s asked me to dance.

I set my hot chocolate down on the table, and I take his from him. Maybe it’s my imagination, but his fingers trail over my wrist. I don’t know how he manages to do that. But I think he did it on purpose.

He doesn’t look me in the eye, though, because he has his hand out for my phone, and when I hand it to him, he pulls up some Christmas music. It’s slow and sweet, and he sets the phone down on the coffee table beside our hot chocolate. And then, he straightens up and looks straight into my eyes. It feels like he’s looking the whole way into my soul.

I shiver, and his words curl around me as he says, “Shall we dance?”

For some reason, the lines from The King and I ripple through my head, and I feel that same anticipation as he walks slowly toward me, his hand out, palm up, inviting me to put my hand in his, as his other hand goes around my waist.

I’m in my jammies, for goodness’ sake, and now I’m dancing with the most eligible bachelor in Christmas Tree, in my living room.

“I feel like someone needs to pinch me,” I say.

“I don’t think you need to be pinched,” he says, pulling me close, his hands warm and firm on my back, as my other hand slides into his. His is callused and rough and so very, very warm and confident. Somehow my head ends up tucked under his chin, and my cheek rests on his chest.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” I say. I want to pinch myself again. This time to get myself to shut up.

“I like hearing that,” he says. “I suppose you won’t believe me if I tell you I’ve never done anything like this either, but it would probably be even more unbelievable if I say I have a feeling I’m going to look back on this night as the best night of my life.”