Page 11

“We’ll take the punch to the town square, then we can check out the festival.”

We bundled up in coats, hats, and mittens, and after Nathan retrieved a pair of boots from his car we headed out with the Christmas Punch. The sidewalks were still snowy, but the street was plowed. One of my thoughtful neighbors had shoveled a path from my door to the street, making it easy to move the wagon from the store to the street.

We walked down the center of the street, heading towards the noise of the festival. The snow from yesterday’s blizzard was piled up in tall drifts along the side of the road, making it feel like we were in a tunnel. But the sun was shining, and the snow had mostly stopped falling, other than the occasional flake.

The town square was already bustling with people wandering around at the various booths. Christmas carols blared from the overhead speakers and a long line of kids waited to see Santa who was seated on a throne in the middle of the gazebo. It was controlled chaos and I loved it.

Meanwhile Nathan looked around like he’d never been to a festival before. Maybe he hadn’t. I assumed that he lived in Denver, maybe he was one of those city people who never ventured away from his neighborhood. I’d had a lot of neighbors like that back when I lived in New York in my early twenties.

We hauled the Christmas Punch into the “adult tent” as we liked to call it. Whenever we had a festival – and in this town we had many of them – we set up a separate bar tent to make sure no one got served who wasn’t supposed to. A control mechanism that I was sure my alcohol-adverse houseguest could appreciate.

“We’re in here,” I told Nathan as he followed me, dragging the wagon behind him. “This is the bar tent.”

Evelyn was manning a table in the corner. My friend volunteered for every event in town. She liked to support the town, but she also liked to be in the thick of any activities that were happening, saying it kept her young.

“Over here Liz,” she called, waving her arms.

Nathan and I set up the urns on one of the tables while Evelyn arranged some glasses around it. Suddenly she looked up with a look of fake shock.

“Oh look! You two are standing right under the mistletoe.”

Evelyn pointed at a spot above our heads. I looked up and sure enough, someone had strung a sprig of the Christmas flower from a string, hanging it from the cross bar that held up the shell of the large tent. I wasn’t sure who the “someone” was who had done that, but I knew who was responsible for it getting there. Evelyn was a notorious matchmaker, and bossy as hell. There wasn’t a person in town who would dare deny her when she asked for help, not when she’d helped half the people in town find love and the other half were afraid of her.

“Evelyn!” I chided, giving her a stern look that let her know I was on to her.

“Don’t look at me,” she said, her eyes darting to the side the way they did when she lied.

She turned her attention to Nathan. “You’re going to have to kiss her now, Mr. Lawyer Man. It’s a Christmas tradition.”

“Don’t listen to her,” I told Nathan.

To my shock he stepped closer to me instead of running away and screaming the way anyone else in this position would do.

“My mama taught me to listen to my elders,” he drawled, his voice deeper and warmer than I’d ever heard it. It made certain areas of my body tingle.

One large hand wrapped around my waist as he stepped closer. His eyes trapped mine and bounced between mine.

“Besides, it’s tradition.”

Nathan

I had no idea what got into me but when Evelyn told us to kiss, I couldn’t help but obey. I gripped Liz’s waist and stepped closer, staring into her startled blue-green eyes. When she didn’t push me away, I lowered my head and pressed my lips against hers. They were soft and a little cold from being outside.

I spent a lot of time in my head. I’d struggled with anxiety since I was a kid, although I had learned to mostly control it through routines, planning, and relaxation techniques. I hadn’t planned this, but I knew with every cell in my body that it was the right move. The minute my lips touched Liz’s I felt the most incredible sense of calm.

She sighed and I slid my tongue between her lips. When she opened for me I made a noise in the back of my throat and pulled her closer so I could explore her mouth. Liz’s fingers dug into my shoulders, and everything else faded away until it was just the two of us locked in a tight embrace.

My dick lengthened, pressing against my pants as Liz rocked her hips against mine. I dimly heard clapping and came back to the present with a jolt. I looked up, seeing the smiling faces of the people around us, and my face flushed as red as Liz’s Christmas Punch.

“Um.”

What was wrong with me? I never did anything to draw attention to myself. I never lost connection to my surroundings. And I certainly had never kissed a near stranger in the middle of a public event. I was completely off balance. I wasn’t sure what to say, but Liz came to my rescue.

“Okay folks, the show’s over,” Liz said sternly.

The crowd moved away, and she pointed a finger at Evelyn. “You are a bad influence.”

Evelyn cackled. “You didn’t seem to mind.”