Mistletoe in Maine by Ginny Baird

“Really good.”
    “What are your kids getting for Christmas?” he asked.
    “Ashley asked for a sports game, and Will’s getting a new iPod. How about Daniel?”
    “I got him a laptop to take off to school with him next year.”
    “Great idea.”
    “What about you?”
    “Me?”
    “Isn’t there something you wanted for Christmas, just for yourself?”
    “Oh no, I never really…”
    “Come now, there must be something you wanted?”
    “Well, I wanted to come here. Have a white Christmas with the kids.”
    He chuckled warmly. “That’s too easy. You’re already getting that.”
    She studied him, unsure of what he wanted her to say. “I’m not sure I understand.”
    He set down his glass and leaned toward her. “Other than skiing. Was there anything else you wanted to do here? While you’re in Maine?”
    “Well,” she began tentatively, “the kids were really bent on dog sledding. I mean, I thought it looked cool too.” She sighed. “That was until I checked out the price.”
    “It is a little steep for a group,” he agreed.
    “Doesn’t matter,” she said, smiling happily. “The important part is we’ve had plenty of good fun. All of us, together.”
    “Yes.” He checked the clock on the mantel. “Looks like it’s getting late. I guess it’s best we get some shut-eye.”
    “Good plan,” she said as casually as she could. Carol couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. There they’d been, all alone by the glowing fire. Just the two of them, and she’d secretly hoped for another romantic moment that apparently wasn’t destined to be.
    Paul got to his feet, then helped her off the sofa. “After all, Santa comes tonight.” He shot her a mysterious grin that made her feel all mixed up inside. She liked him so much and desperately hoped he liked her too. All indications were that he did. But now here he was, forcing them to say good night.
    “Yes, yes, he does,” she said, barely able to stand it. He was close enough to take her in his arms. Close enough to kiss her. But some inner instinct told her he wouldn’t. “Santa and that Christmas moose!”
    Paul laughed, dark eyes dancing. “We can’t forget Ashley’s moose.”
    “I wonder what she means by that?” she asked, looking up at him.
    “Maybe that she’s hopeful,” he said softly. “Hopeful of a little Christmas magic.” He stepped closer, and Carol’s heart stilled. “Are you?”
    The seconds ticked by like hours as he stared at her with soulful eyes and firelight lapped against them.
    “I still believe in Christmas magic,” she finally whispered.
    “That makes two of us.” He leaned forward, brushing his lips to hers, and she feared she would faint from the warmth of his mouth covering hers. He was so manly and sexy, and smelled of the great outdoors. “Good night, Carol,” he said, stepping back. “Sleep well.”
    She would try, though she didn’t know how. Her silly heart did cartwheels all the way upstairs and danced a jig all over her room before she collapsed in a heap on the bed. She tugged a huge feather pillow over her face and squealed with delight, kicking her feet in the air. She’d never known what it was like to kiss a man. A real man, someone so kind, steady, and caring as Paul. It had been a chaste kiss but something so tender and wonderful that she never could have imagined it happening to her. But it had! And right here at Christmas! In beautiful, unforgettable Maine! Carol sighed, pulling the pillow against her chest and rolling happily onto her side. What a wild, wonderful day this had been. As long as she lived, she would never, ever forget it.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    Carol awoke to the sound of yapping. She sat up with a start, frightened by the bunny ears all around her. Then she remembered where she was. She reached over to the nightstand and checked her cell for the time. Five thirty a.m.?
    “Mom! Mom!” Ashley called, bursting through her door and into her room.