Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses: A feel good Christmas romance novel by Jenny Hale Page A
Authors: Jenny Hale
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“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t know if I was supposed to just twirl it around my fork or not, but then, when you did it, I realized I’d guessed right.”
“How else would you eat it?” he laughed, and she had to make herself breathe. His laughter went all the way to his eyes, and the corners of his mouth turned down just slightly when he smiled. His whole face changed. She was so happy to see a real laugh from him, and, by the way he collected himself right after, she wondered if he wasn’t used to it.
“I didn’t know how to eat it. That’s why I looked at you!” she laughed too.
“Well, you can eat it any way you want,” he said, chuckling again.
“Do you always eat in here?”
“Yes.”
Abbey was sitting at the head of the table with Nick at her right, and the two of them barely covered one corner of that colossal table. It had five chairs down each side and one on the ends.
“Do you always sit in the same spot, or do you choose a new chair every night?”
“Ha!”
She couldn’t help the flutter in her chest as she realized that she was making him laugh again, and she was so glad to see him smile. His face was quite different tonight than it was when she’d first met him. As she watched the fine lines forming around his eyes, the light creases in his forehead as his face became animated, the way his lips turned down at the corners in that way that was unique to him, she was happy to see his real smile.
“What would you do?” he asked.
“Sorry?”
“Would you sit in the same seat or would you choose a different one each night?”
“I’d sit in a different seat every night so I could see what the room looked like from the angles of every one of my guests. …If I sat in here at all.”
Nick looked around the room as if explanations of her last comment were hanging somewhere in the air above him. “Why wouldn’t you eat in a dining room?” he finally asked.
“It’s so big, the table swallows us right up. I’d eat somewhere comfier.”
“Comfier?” His face crumpled, telling her that he had no idea why somewhere other than the dining room would be any better than where they were sitting now. “Where would you suggest then?”
His laughter had made her feel a sense of friendliness that gave her the courage to do what she was thinking of doing. “I’ll show you,” she said, standing up. “Grab your plate.”
This time, he was watching her as she set her fork on her plate and grabbed her glass, her cloth napkin dangling between her fingers. With a slight reluctance, Nick followed her lead, that look of interest returning on his face. She caught him looking at her sock feet again as she led the way to the ballroom that she’d just decorated. The fire had dwindled to a low, orange glow, but the heat was still present. Carefully, she sat on one of the sofas that she’d arranged facing each other in front of the fireplace and folded her legs underneath her. With the plate and napkin balancing on her lap and the glass by the leg of the sofa on the floor, she began to eat.
“And why is this better than having a perfectly functional table at our disposal?” he asked, awkwardly holding his plate and trying to get the zucchini onto his fork.
“It’s relaxing.”
He didn’t respond, and her thoughts were already somewhere else. Being next to him on the sofa with their dinners in their laps almost made her forget that they were so very different, the same way it had made her forget how big the room had seemed when she got there. “So, you said you remember nearly every detail? Will you remember everything I say tonight?” she asked.
“Yes, probably.”
“You’ll remember everything about the room and sitting here and what we ate?”
“Most likely.”
“That’s amazing.”
He smiled, but it was his polite smile, not the kind she’d seen at the dinner table.
They ate for a while in the quiet of that enormous room, the fire popping every so often, the
“I didn’t know if I was supposed to just twirl it around my fork or not, but then, when you did it, I realized I’d guessed right.”
“How else would you eat it?” he laughed, and she had to make herself breathe. His laughter went all the way to his eyes, and the corners of his mouth turned down just slightly when he smiled. His whole face changed. She was so happy to see a real laugh from him, and, by the way he collected himself right after, she wondered if he wasn’t used to it.
“I didn’t know how to eat it. That’s why I looked at you!” she laughed too.
“Well, you can eat it any way you want,” he said, chuckling again.
“Do you always eat in here?”
“Yes.”
Abbey was sitting at the head of the table with Nick at her right, and the two of them barely covered one corner of that colossal table. It had five chairs down each side and one on the ends.
“Do you always sit in the same spot, or do you choose a new chair every night?”
“Ha!”
She couldn’t help the flutter in her chest as she realized that she was making him laugh again, and she was so glad to see him smile. His face was quite different tonight than it was when she’d first met him. As she watched the fine lines forming around his eyes, the light creases in his forehead as his face became animated, the way his lips turned down at the corners in that way that was unique to him, she was happy to see his real smile.
“What would you do?” he asked.
“Sorry?”
“Would you sit in the same seat or would you choose a different one each night?”
“I’d sit in a different seat every night so I could see what the room looked like from the angles of every one of my guests. …If I sat in here at all.”
Nick looked around the room as if explanations of her last comment were hanging somewhere in the air above him. “Why wouldn’t you eat in a dining room?” he finally asked.
“It’s so big, the table swallows us right up. I’d eat somewhere comfier.”
“Comfier?” His face crumpled, telling her that he had no idea why somewhere other than the dining room would be any better than where they were sitting now. “Where would you suggest then?”
His laughter had made her feel a sense of friendliness that gave her the courage to do what she was thinking of doing. “I’ll show you,” she said, standing up. “Grab your plate.”
This time, he was watching her as she set her fork on her plate and grabbed her glass, her cloth napkin dangling between her fingers. With a slight reluctance, Nick followed her lead, that look of interest returning on his face. She caught him looking at her sock feet again as she led the way to the ballroom that she’d just decorated. The fire had dwindled to a low, orange glow, but the heat was still present. Carefully, she sat on one of the sofas that she’d arranged facing each other in front of the fireplace and folded her legs underneath her. With the plate and napkin balancing on her lap and the glass by the leg of the sofa on the floor, she began to eat.
“And why is this better than having a perfectly functional table at our disposal?” he asked, awkwardly holding his plate and trying to get the zucchini onto his fork.
“It’s relaxing.”
He didn’t respond, and her thoughts were already somewhere else. Being next to him on the sofa with their dinners in their laps almost made her forget that they were so very different, the same way it had made her forget how big the room had seemed when she got there. “So, you said you remember nearly every detail? Will you remember everything I say tonight?” she asked.
“Yes, probably.”
“You’ll remember everything about the room and sitting here and what we ate?”
“Most likely.”
“That’s amazing.”
He smiled, but it was his polite smile, not the kind she’d seen at the dinner table.
They ate for a while in the quiet of that enormous room, the fire popping every so often, the
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