“Nancy mentioned that it was the annual Christmas lighting ceremony tonight. I was feeling restless, so I thought I’d come and check it out. Care to join me?” he asked.
I paused without knowing why. My mind was made up the minute he stepped in front of me. It felt so good to see him again that turning down the opportunity to spend an hour or two together seemed pointless. I’d miss him terribly when he was gone, but I was done trying to push him away before he had to leave.
“I’d love to,” I replied.
“And if you haven’t eaten, maybe we could have dinner together again afterward?” he asked somewhat sheepishly, as though he was pressing his luck and expected me to turn him down. This time I bit my lip anxiously as I thought about my reply. Of course I wanted to accept, but it didn’t seem fair for him to pay two nights in a row.
“Does that look mean you want to turn me down, but you’re not sure how without being rude?” he asked.
“It means that I want to buy you dinner, but I don’t get paid until Saturday,” I answered honestly. “It’s not fair for you to pay for another meal when you paid the hospital bill and bought me dinner last night.”
“I see your dilemma. The only thing that sounds fair is for you to pay for our next date on Saturday,” he answered, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.
“Oh, we’re going out Saturday as well, are we?” I answered teasingly.
“Well, if you’re asking, thank you very much. I’d love to go out with you again. Now, why don’t you hop in the truck while I look for a parking space, and we can see what all the fuss is about with these lights.”
Chapter Eight
Lauren
In the end, we had to drive around for ages until we found somewhere to park. It seemed like the entire town had driven in just for this event. It took us ten minutes to walk back to the green, where we found ourselves at the back of a big crowd. The air was perfumed with the delicious scent of spiced apple cider, and I groaned as I smelled hot chocolate, making Jensen chuckle.
“Be right back,” he said, disappearing into the throng only to emerge a few minutes later with a cup of the very thing I’d been craving.
“Here you go,” he said, passing it to me.
“I think I love you.” I sighed, expecting him to laugh at my reply, but he had a strange look on his face I couldn’t begin to decipher.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, thank you so much for coming this evening,” the man I heard someone say was the town’s mayor, began from the stage ahead.
I shivered with cold, but as I tentatively sipped at the chocolate, I slowly began to thaw out. When Jensen slipped in behind me, steadying his hands on my waist against the jostle of the horde, I felt the warmth of his body through both of our coats. I tried to concentrate on the mayor’s speech, but it was impossible. All I could think about, all I could focus on, was Jensen’s thumb, lazily drawing circles on my hip.
Around us, couples, friends, and families all watched with excitement for that magical moment that signaled the start of the countdown to Christmas. It was easy to get caught up in it all. For one night, it felt like we were any other couple, enjoying the magic of Christmas with loved ones.
“Five, four, three, two, one,” I heard the mob shout, and then the enchanting glow of what must have been thousands of lights illuminated the town square. Just at that moment, an icy cold snowflake landed on my nose, and I tilted my face upward so that I could watch them fall from the sky, embracing the magic of the moment. I hadn’t even realized that I was leaning into Jensen’s embrace. It just felt natural to be in his arms.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I said.
It sure is,” he replied in a tone that had me looking up at him. I expected him to be as captivated by the snow as I was, but he wasn’t looking at the lights. His eyes were focused on me so intently that I shivered.
“Fancy getting out of here? We can beat the crowd and head for dinner?” he said, leaning closer to whisper into my ear. His breath was warm against my face, and I nodded my head in agreement as I struggled to focus my lust-addled brain into forming actual sentences.
The crowd was marveling at Santa, who had just arrived in a rather impressive sleigh, and it was heartwarming to hear the excitement of all the children jostling for the best view. Dumping my empty cup in a trash can, I followed behind Jensen as he negotiated a path through the crowd. When I fell behind, he reached back for my hand so that we wouldn’t be split up.
Long after we’d made it through the throng, our hands remained that way, our fingers threaded tightly together, his thumb brushing against mine. I couldn’t remember ever holding hands with someone. That such a simple act could feel so special and intimate, that it could make me feel so connected to someone, was quite profound. I didn’t connect with people. Ever. When they looked at me, people saw what they wanted to see. In some cases, what I allowed them to see. But Jensen saw the real me, and still he wanted to hold my hand. And I wanted him to. So much that I didn’t want to let him go.
We walked a fair way, and I followed blindly, not really concentrating on where we were going or even caring. I would have been happy with a sandwich as long as we ate together. That was until we walked through the doors of Grumpy’s Bar and Grill. I caught sight of Dad
at the bar as usual, hunched protectively over his beer and talking animatedly with a guy I didn’t recognize. I was desperate to go unnoticed. If my dad saw me with Jensen, he’d immediately peg him as a mark, and it would only be a matter of time before he tried to exploit my connection with him to try and rope me into one of his scams. I wanted nothing more than to part ways with Dad, but until I could afford a place to live, that just wasn’t an option. So avoiding him seemed the best tactic for the moment.
“Look, I’ve changed my mind about dinner. Can we just go please?” I said, pulling on Jensen’s arm.
“Why? It’s not even that busy yet. If we grab a table quickly, we could eat and be done before the masses roll in,” he replied. I knew that arguing with him would only draw attention to us, so, with a heavy heart, I slipped my hand from his and made my way back out into the cold. Seconds later, I could hear his heavy footsteps behind me, but I didn’t slow down, ignoring his pleas for me to wait.
Eventually, he ran in front of me and grabbed me by the shoulders, forcing me to stop.
“Talk to me,” he said. It was his gentle tone that undid me. He had every right to just walk away. I had been unspeakably rude in the face of his kindness, and my mood had swung, from warm and congenial to frosty and ignorant.