Page 100 of Elf-ish

“Like my heart might have grown a size or two,” he teases.

“See, there’s hope for you yet.”

“You won’t give up hoping for me, will you?” He glances back at his glass on the bar before giving me a sheepish gaze.

“Never.” There is always the opportunity to turn your life around. It’s why I forgave Ian. It’s why I moved on.

“Still want that house and those kids?” he asks, arching a brow.

“One day.”

Our eyes remain locked on one another.

“Favorite color?” he asks.

I laugh softly. “Orange.”

He puffs out his bottom lip. “Interesting. And number?”

Having never really considered it, I answer, “I think I’m partial to nine.”

The corner of his mouth curls. That apostrophe-like dimple pops forward. If he can claim my freckle as his, can I gain possession of that divot?

“And food?”

I sigh with a smile. “I like all food.” I slap my thigh, as if proving my point.

Jude snorts, the sound easy and light, compared to the range of derisive noises he can make.

“Let’s go back to that favorite number. How do you feel about a six in front of the nine?”

“Sixty-nine?” I question before the number registers.

“Exactly,” Jude says, holding those clear eyes on me, letting me see exactly what he’s thinking.

“Come over,” I state in the same way he said it only two nights ago. Not so much as a question but a command.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Jude says, taking my drink from my hand, tossing a hundred-dollar bill on the bar, and leading me out into the cold.

+ + +

The morning after our rather adventurous night, Jude finds me in my kitchen. It’s early, but I have a full weekend ahead of me.

As I slowly melt semi-sweet chocolate over boiling hot water, Jude approaches me from behind. I sense his closeness while saying, “Good morning.” As I can’t stop stirring for a second, or the chocolate might burn, I hold my position, facing the stove and swirling melting chocolate in the pot.

Jude hesitates, and for half a second, nervous energy wavers off him. He sets his hands on my hips first.

I smile to myself, remaining quiet, while Jude figures out whatever he’s trying to figure out.

He steps closer and presses a kiss to my shoulder before slowly, very slowly, wrapping his arms around me. He remains stiff, almost as if he’s anxious about hugging me.

Running my free hand along his forearm over my waist, I lean into his chest and feel him relax behind me. His chin comes to rest on my shoulder as we stay like this while I continue stirring the chocolate.

“Whatcha doing?” he murmurs near my ear.

“Making my famous chocolate mints.” I don’t tell him that I bake when I’m stressed. Beau’s wedding is coming together. The holiday seems set. Yet, I feel off today. Like I’m forgetting something.

“Famous, huh?”