Pawliday Love

Chapter 3

D ecember 25th

“More popcorn?” Paul stood in the doorway between Hannah’s living room and kitchen, an empty bowl in one hand.

“Are you suggesting we watch another?” Hannah yawned. “It’s one in the morning. We’ve been binge watching holiday movies since eight o’clock.”

After feeding the dogs and cats and giving them fresh water, she and Paul, along with Atlas, stopped at a local grocery store just minutes before the place closed. She’d waited in the Jeep with the dog, who keep its eyes pinned to the glass doors, anxious for Paul’s return. Since he was renting a furnished house with zero decorations, they headed to Hannah’s place. The small tree and white lights weren’t much, but they lent a cozy intimacy to the apartment.

“What about your landlord?” Paul had asked. “Will having Atlas with us be a problem?”

“His daughter picked him up yesterday. He won’t be back from her place until the 27 th . Since Atlas is technically visiting, it’s not a violation of my lease.”

When Paul discovered Hannah intended to feast on hot dogs and beans, he announced he was taking over kitchen duty. While she drank red wine, her foot propped on a chair with an ice pack, he put together a delicious dinner of quiche and roasted sweet potatoes with mint chocolate chip ice cream for dessert.

“We can have the leftovers for breakfast,” he said.

“Are you inviting yourself for a sleepover?” she asked.

“If you have a sofa, yes. Otherwise, I’ll drive home, sleep in my own bed, and come back in the morning to pick you up to feed the shelter animals. If you don’t have plans for Christmas Day, I just happened to pick up a pork loin. It’s a lot for one person.”

The promise of roasted pork, mashed potatoes, homemade gravy, green beans with almonds, and eggnog cheesecake–the last one in the grocery store’s bakery section–made it impossible to say no.

Paul’s laidback temperament made it easy to be with him. His questions were curious and gentle, at times a bit invasive, but Hannah discovered it felt good to open up to him. There was the usual pity–how could someone surrounded by loving family members not feel sorry for someone raised without it?–but coming from Paul, it was empathy, not sympathy. He asked to understand what her experiences had been like, to identify the mark those struggles left on her.

He shared stories about his sisters and parents, generous with details while sensitive to her reactions. Recognizing the grief and envy his words triggered because her own childhood had been so different, so stark, so lonely.

She’d known him two days, but after hours together, it seemed they’d been friends for years.

“We still haven’t watched Die Hard .” He covered his own yawn. “That’s my favorite.”

“Is that the movie with Bruce Willis?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it!” He feigned shock. “It’s a classic.”

“ White Christmas is a classic,” she laughed, stretching her arms overhead.

“It’s been a long day.” He put the bowl on the counter. “We can continue the movie marathon tomorrow.”

“It’s been a good day.” She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“Hmm.” He dropped onto the sofa beside her, pushing Atlas to the end of the cushion. “I was going for great. Is there time to score a few more points?”

“It’s already past midnight.”

“But we haven’t slept yet. The day isn’t officially over until we go to bed.”

She drew in a breath, desire fluttering in her belly.

“Separate beds,” he stated firmly. “No need to rush things. If this is meant to be, we’ll get there.”

“Are you for real?” She cupped his jaw. “I thought most guys were on a mission to score as often and as fast as possible.”

“I’m not most guys.” He curled his fingers around hers, pressing them against his chest. “I was raised with three sisters. My parents drilled the concepts of respect and consent into all of us. That’s made dating difficult. You’d be amazed how fast women are nowadays. If I’m not willing to jump into the sack with them, they’re not interested in a second date.”

“Not all of us.”

“Then we’re a good match.” He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose.

“That just took things from good to great.” Hannah got lightheaded for a second, disbelief warring with delight.

“Then it’s bedtime,” Paul announced. “How’s your ankle? Do you need help?”

Their eyes met, understanding passing between them.

“It would be helpful if you took Atlas out one more time,” she said.

“It’s my pleasure.” He reached for something tucked beside the sofa where he’d dropped his overnight bag, presenting a bulky red and green flannel stocking. “I got you something. But you can’t open it until tomorrow after we get back from the shelter.”

“Paul! My gosh…I didn’t…why?” she blurted, surprised at the gesture.

“Don’t get excited,” he said, chuckling. “I got it at the grocery store. Half an hour before close on Christmas Eve, the pickings were slim.” He nestled the stocking under the tree, next to the gift from Rose.

“It’s the thought that counts.” She limped over to him and circled her arms around his waist. She closed her eyes, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart and the warmth of his chest against her cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Hannah.” This time his mouth skimmed hers for a real kiss.

“Happy holidays, Paul.”

Atlas barked, remind them that everyone, even the animals, wanted to be included in the warmth and joy of the season.