Page 8 of A Perfect Christmas Romance (Kringle, Texas #8)
“Next time, ask, okay?” She retrieved plates, setting them on the bar with a pointed look.
Nick, unperturbed, unpacked their feast. “I got your favorite Pad Thai. Thai fried rice for me, but I’ll share.” He winked.
Liv’s heart did a completely unauthorized twist.
“Pho for us both and spring rolls, and what would an Americanized version of Asian cuisine be complete without fortune cookies?”
“That’s way too much food.”
“You can take the leftovers to work for lunch tomorrow.”
Well, that was nice of him. What was he up to?
They settled onto barstools, digging into the aromatic spread. The flavors exploded on Liv’s tongue, reminding her how much she’d missed Thai food in Kringle’s limited culinary offerings.
They ate in companionable silence, and Liv relaxed despite her best efforts to maintain a wall of aloof professionalism.
Make it casual , Boz’s voice echoed in her head. Loosen up.
Liv eyed Nick, remembering their bargain. Help her loosen up, and she’d introduce him to Matilda Merris. Simple, right? Ha.
“Well,” she said. “Shall we get down to business? What have you got to help me lower my inhibitions?”
“First rule of loosening up...” His grin was more magnetic than a superconductor. “Don’t use words like ‘shall’.”
“Aren’t rules antithetical to being loose?”
“You got me there. First suggestion of loosening up...use more conversational language.”
“Thanks, I’ll take it under advisement.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Fine.” She sighed dramatically. “I’ll noodle on it.”
“See there. You’ve got this.” His thumbs-up shouldn’t have made her feel so ridiculously pleased.
And yet...
“I know you like lists.” He produced a small spiral notebook from his back pocket. “So I brought this to get us started.”
“That’s presumptive?—”
His arched eyebrow stopped her mid-sentence. Fine. So what if she used bigger words than most people? Was intellectual curiosity a crime now?
“Maybe I’ve changed,” she said, lifting her chin. “Maybe I don’t make lists anymore.”
“Have you?”
“No,” she admitted, reaching for the notebook. “Gimme that.”
His chuckle grated on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard. A beautiful chalkboard. Wait, what?
“Hey,” he said. “We forgot our fortune cookies.”
Liv hadn’t forgotten. She’d been ignoring them, terrified they’d spout some cryptic message about past loves and second chances.
He grabbed the cookies and handed one to her. “Here, open yours first.”
“Okay, but I’ll interpret what it means for myself. You always used to tell me what my fortune meant.”
He held up both palms in surrender. “By all means.”
She cracked open the cookie, unfolding the slip of paper with trepidation and thought back to a road trip they’d taken in college—one of Nick’s spontaneous adventures with no destination in mind.
He’d always been restless, chasing the next thrill, and somehow, she’d let herself get swept along for the ride. They’d ended up in the parking lot of a gas station in the middle of nowhere, hours from home.
By the time they arrived, every restaurant in town had closed.
She could still remember sitting on the hood of Nick’s car, splitting vending machine burritos while the stars glittered above them.
Nick had sprawled out beside her, perfectly content with the universe and for that one night, she'd felt it too—a glimpse of what it was like to live in the moment, without a plan or a care.
He’d kissed her then, lazy and slow, under the blanket of stars. No promises, no expectations. Just two people who fit together, even if only for that moment.
“What’s it say?” he asked, pulling her back into the moment.
“Blah, blah.” She balled it up in her fist.
“Olivia, let me see.” He reached for the paper, but she clutched it like a lifeline. “Please.”
“I’ll read it, but it’s meaningless anyway,” she said. “Great things happen when you open your mind to possibilities.”
“I like that,” Nick said, his voice suspiciously neutral.
“And?”
“There is no and.”
“You’re not going to add something snarky?”
“Nope. I’ll read mine.” He broke open his cookie and read, “Friends are better than riches.”
“That’s all?”
“I think it says a lot about both of us.”
“How’s that?”
“I’m the friend who’s going to open your mind to possibilities.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “I knew you were going to read something into those silly cookies.”
He studied her with an intensity that made her squirm.
“What?” she asked.
“What are you afraid of?”
“Who says I’m afraid?”
“Your body language, for one thing.”
Liv realized she’d transformed into a human stress ball, shoulders up to her ears, hands clamped between her knees. She forced herself to relax, pressed her palms flat on the bar and took a deep breath.
“Should we make that list now?”
“Yeah, let’s.”
He passed her a pen, and she tried to ignore how close he was sitting, how his scent brought back a tidal wave of memories.
Focus, Olivia.
She leaned back, desperate for some emotional breathing room and twisted a strand of hair around an index finger.
“Don’t fiddle with your hair. It’s a dead giveaway you’re nervous.”
Immediately she dropped her hand. “I’m not.”
He leveled her a look that could dissolve steel.
“Okay, you make me nervous. How’s that?”
“You’re not taking ownership of your emotions.”
“When did you get a psych degree?”
“Why are you nervous?”
“Because you’re in my kitchen.”
“Are you afraid of me?” He looked hurt, and it torqued Liv’s chest.
“No.”
“Then what are you afraid of?” The concern in his eyes was genuine, and it threatened to unravel her defenses.
“Me,” she admitted.
“What?” He blinked, pulled back his head and stared at her.
“What if I’m intractable?”
He grunted.
She blew out her breath. “Okay, I just heard that. I do use big words.”
“And?”
“Huh?”
“What makes you think you’re intractable?”
“I fear that I won’t be able to change, and I’ll lose this job that I actually quite love and all because my new boss wants me to be something I’m not.”
“Let’s work with that,” he said, leaning forward.
She shot him a sidelong glance. “What do you mean?”
“Instead of trying to turn yourself into a pretzel for your new boss, how about you take a stand with him?”
“Because I’m afraid he’ll fire me.”
“Are you a good employee?”
“Yes. I’m darn hardworking.”
He grinned, and Liv’s heart fluttered. “I know you are. You had the best GPA in our class. So, point that out when they tell you to dress more casually. Say it’s not your style, and you prefer to dress the way you feel comfortable.”
“And if they tell me I have to change or I’m out?”
“Then I guess you’ll have to decide if you really want to work for that company or not.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do it. Not now, anyway. Not at Christmas. Not in the middle of my parents’ divorce.”
“I get it.” Nick nodded. “It’s not as straightforward as it sounds.”
“No, it’s not.” She paused, weighing her next words. “But I’d still like your help showing me how to be less rigid in my thinking. It is an area where I could improve.”
He leaned in, and for a heart-stopping moment, Liv thought he might kiss her. Instead, he just reached around her, retrieved his pen, and pocketed it.
Liv exhaled.
“Goodnight,” he said.
“Goodnight,” she echoed, and watched him go with a strange, lonely ache in her heart.