Page 33 of The Best Christmas Choir Ever

“Just…come inside. We can talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to go home.”

A snowball hit him square in the chest, and he groaned. Dammit! “Did that have a rock in it?”

Charlie froze with her arm up, glancing at the snowball in her hand.

“Don’t make me come out there to get you,” Julian warned, hands already up, ready to fend off another projectile.

Perhaps it was the challenge. Perhaps it was a desire to pummel him in the face, but Charlie let the snowball fly. Her aim was true again, and though Julian managed to bat it away, the spray of dust still left him shivering.

“All right, that’s enough.” He surged into the parking lot.

Charlie gave a little yelp and dove behind her car. “You started it!”

Julian chased after her, darting around the car. He twitched in the cold. “I’m not kidding, Charlie. I’m not letting you drive in this.”

“You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not one of your residents.”

“I don’t tell them what to do, either.”

Charlie whipped around the end of her car. Julian doubled back, and though she was quick, he was quicker thanks to his long legs. He reached for her coat, just missing her.

Charlie jumped back, brandishing the snowbrush like a weapon, keeping him at a distance. “Stop it!”

“You stop it!” Julian latched onto the end of the snowbrush, hauling her closer.

She let out a puff of air, the space between them suddenly heated.

Julian felt like he’d just stepped into a sauna as his blood raced in his ears. “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder and haul you inside.”

Her eyes narrowed in challenge. “You wouldn’t.”

He tugged on the snowbrush again, catching her wrist. “Try me.”

“Okay,” she squealed. “Okay!” She looked him up and down. He could feel the snow seeping into his socks. Feel Charlie’s pulse skip under his fingers. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have to be if you’d just cooperate,” he said. Her cheeks were pink, the tip of her nose closer to cherry. He was tempted to brush his finger against her skin. To shift the blond hairs by her cheeks behind her ear. To tuck her into his arms, fending off the cold. He was tempted by delusion. “Truce?” he breathed.

“Truce.”

He released the snowbrush and his wild desires, and she left it, leaning up against the car.

“Come have a coffee,” he said, heading for the building. “As soon as the roads are clear, you can go.”

“Fine,” she muttered. He tried not to grin at the sight of her stomping along beside him. He didn’t know why, but this felt like some kind of victory.

Charlie followed him back through the lobby. Erin frowned in his direction, but Julian shook his head. The universal sign for don’t ask. He led Charlie to the dining room, blessedly empty between meals, and secured them two cups of piping hot coffee from the kitchen. They sat at a tiny table in the corner of the room.

“Did you really think the video was that bad?” Charlie asked after her first sip.

Julian shrugged. “Not bad. But you were being hard on them.”

Charlie hummed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

She leaned her head on her hand, pouting. It was so adorable he almost reached for her hand.