texted back, before the pause went on for too long. A bit dazed,
I blinked at my darkening screen, and not until Curly dug his nails
into my thighs did I figure out I had approximately ten minutes to
get out of my comfy clothes and into something decent if I wanted
to make it to the Mill on time.
“Move your furry ass, Curly. Daddy’s got a
date. Well, maybe. Probably? Shut up.”
“Mrrw.”
I made it to the Mill on time, and still
Ashley was already waiting. It was surprisingly busy in the bar for
Christmas Eve. Even the beer garden was open; the tables had been
cleared of snow, and large patio heaters created small bursts of
warmth in the cold evening air.
“I figured you’d prefer to sit inside,”
Ashley said when I joined him in his booth. I didn’t know whether
to shake his hand or what, so it took me a bit by surprise when he
rose to his feet and half hugged me over the table before I had a
chance to sit down.
“You figured correctly,” I told him, busying
myself with removing several layers of clothing. “How have you
been?”
“Not bad. It’s nice that the office is closed
for a few days. And nice to get away from the fam for a few
hours.”
“I hear you,” I lied, evading his gaze by
pulling the menu closer. “What’s that you’re drinking?”
“A Belgian white. Want to try?” He slid the
glass in my direction, and while I wasn’t a beer lover, I lifted it
to my mouth and sipped. He laughed at the face I made.
“I’ll have a mojito,” I said to our waitress
when she appeared at my elbow. “And can we have the artichoke
spinach dip to share?” My stomach might regret that later, but I’d
deal with it.
“Hungry?” Ashley asked.
“More like perpetually cold. It makes me
hungry.” I finally lifted my eyes to meet his, and Ashley was
gazing steadily at me. He wore a dark burgundy sweater with a large
diagonal collar and a black shirt underneath. The sweater was made
of really thick wool and still managed to cling to his chest like
it was molded to his shape. My mouth went a little dry and I
focused on the little frown line that appeared between his
eyebrows.
“What happened with your power?”
“Apparently there was water in the fuse
box.”
“Jesus.” Ashley sat back. “That could’ve been
messy.”
“Yeah, it’s going to take some time to sort
out, but at least I got a guy to come out on short notice, and he’s
got my heating working.”
He leaned forward again, questions I was sure
I wanted to avoid sparking in his eyes. “Where are you spending
Christmas?”
“At my mother’s.” Well, I could spend it at
my mother’s. I was glad when my drink arrived with the appetizer
close on its heels. “Dig in,” I said, and was pleased when Ashley
did.
“You get on well with your mom?” he
asked.
“Yeah, I really do. She’s very special to me.
Why? Don’t you get along with yours?” I could tell immediately by
the abrupt silence that I’d planted a foot in my mouth—surgical
removal required.
“We get on all right.” He kept his eyes on
the chips and triangles of pita bread. “You could have called me,
you know.”
“For what?” I didn’t know why I felt
relieved, but I did.
He shrugged with one shoulder. “To look at
your fuse box.” He rolled his eyes when I snorted. “Or you know, if
you needed somewhere to stay.”
“Thanks, but it’s Christmas. I didn’t want to
intrude.”
“You wouldn’t have.” I watched in silence as
he plucked another piece of bread off the plate with blunt but
elegant fingers. His face cleared and he smiled wickedly when his
eyes met mine again. “I could’ve used the help. My niece has
convinced them all I’ve been texting my boyfriend.”
That startled me into a loud laugh that
turned a few heads at the tables around us. He laughed along with
me, never looking away. He looked so lovely I ached. His cheeks
were a bit rosy, a leftover from the cold, and the subdued
Christmas lighting in the bar cast
I blinked at my darkening screen, and not until Curly dug his nails
into my thighs did I figure out I had approximately ten minutes to
get out of my comfy clothes and into something decent if I wanted
to make it to the Mill on time.
“Move your furry ass, Curly. Daddy’s got a
date. Well, maybe. Probably? Shut up.”
“Mrrw.”
I made it to the Mill on time, and still
Ashley was already waiting. It was surprisingly busy in the bar for
Christmas Eve. Even the beer garden was open; the tables had been
cleared of snow, and large patio heaters created small bursts of
warmth in the cold evening air.
“I figured you’d prefer to sit inside,”
Ashley said when I joined him in his booth. I didn’t know whether
to shake his hand or what, so it took me a bit by surprise when he
rose to his feet and half hugged me over the table before I had a
chance to sit down.
“You figured correctly,” I told him, busying
myself with removing several layers of clothing. “How have you
been?”
“Not bad. It’s nice that the office is closed
for a few days. And nice to get away from the fam for a few
hours.”
“I hear you,” I lied, evading his gaze by
pulling the menu closer. “What’s that you’re drinking?”
“A Belgian white. Want to try?” He slid the
glass in my direction, and while I wasn’t a beer lover, I lifted it
to my mouth and sipped. He laughed at the face I made.
“I’ll have a mojito,” I said to our waitress
when she appeared at my elbow. “And can we have the artichoke
spinach dip to share?” My stomach might regret that later, but I’d
deal with it.
“Hungry?” Ashley asked.
“More like perpetually cold. It makes me
hungry.” I finally lifted my eyes to meet his, and Ashley was
gazing steadily at me. He wore a dark burgundy sweater with a large
diagonal collar and a black shirt underneath. The sweater was made
of really thick wool and still managed to cling to his chest like
it was molded to his shape. My mouth went a little dry and I
focused on the little frown line that appeared between his
eyebrows.
“What happened with your power?”
“Apparently there was water in the fuse
box.”
“Jesus.” Ashley sat back. “That could’ve been
messy.”
“Yeah, it’s going to take some time to sort
out, but at least I got a guy to come out on short notice, and he’s
got my heating working.”
He leaned forward again, questions I was sure
I wanted to avoid sparking in his eyes. “Where are you spending
Christmas?”
“At my mother’s.” Well, I could spend it at
my mother’s. I was glad when my drink arrived with the appetizer
close on its heels. “Dig in,” I said, and was pleased when Ashley
did.
“You get on well with your mom?” he
asked.
“Yeah, I really do. She’s very special to me.
Why? Don’t you get along with yours?” I could tell immediately by
the abrupt silence that I’d planted a foot in my mouth—surgical
removal required.
“We get on all right.” He kept his eyes on
the chips and triangles of pita bread. “You could have called me,
you know.”
“For what?” I didn’t know why I felt
relieved, but I did.
He shrugged with one shoulder. “To look at
your fuse box.” He rolled his eyes when I snorted. “Or you know, if
you needed somewhere to stay.”
“Thanks, but it’s Christmas. I didn’t want to
intrude.”
“You wouldn’t have.” I watched in silence as
he plucked another piece of bread off the plate with blunt but
elegant fingers. His face cleared and he smiled wickedly when his
eyes met mine again. “I could’ve used the help. My niece has
convinced them all I’ve been texting my boyfriend.”
That startled me into a loud laugh that
turned a few heads at the tables around us. He laughed along with
me, never looking away. He looked so lovely I ached. His cheeks
were a bit rosy, a leftover from the cold, and the subdued
Christmas lighting in the bar cast
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