Chapter 14 #3
In reality, he’s not that much bigger than Cole, but to me, Cole feels like a good size, and Atlas is like . . . the giant who fell down from the beanstalk and has decided to live among the peasants.
And sure, I might be on my third mulled cider, and things are feeling a little hazy, slightly distorted, but I’m still very much aware . . . aware of his size.
“You’re so big,” I say, looking up at him as we all share some cookies that Cole grabbed from a local vendor.
Atlas glances down at himself and then back at me. “I grew myself.”
“It’s very impressive. You did a wonderful job.”
“Thank you. You didn’t grow that much.”
“I know.” I lean my chin on my hand. “Can you believe that? What was I thinking?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you were concerned about other things . . . like . . . like growing that pretty face.”
I smile. “Aw, was that a flirtatious compliment?”
“I’d say just a compliment. How could I ever flirt with the enemy?” He winks.
“You’re right. You could never flirt with the enemy.” I sigh and then turn to Cole and Storee. “Do you guys think I’m a jerk?”
“Yes,” Atlas says.
I shove at his rock-hard chest, not even moving him a millimeter. “I wasn’t speaking to you.”
“Don’t stifle my opinion like you’re trying to stifle my farm.” He chuckles, but I ignore the deep rumble and focus on Storee and Cole.
“I’m not trying to be a jerk.”
“I don’t think you’re a jerk,” Storee says, causing both Cole and Atlas to stare her down.
“What? I don’t.” Storee shrugs. “She’s clearly hearing information from someone who’s not telling the truth, and she’s trying to do right by them.
I think she just needs to situate herself in the town a little more, and then she’ll make the right decision. ” Storee winks at me.
“You see, I was thinking the same thing,” I say, pointing to my chest. “I don’t want to say it, because I’m supposed to not like this guy right here”—I jolt my thumb in Atlas’s direction—“but I don’t see why Uncle Dwight hates him so much.”
“Thank you.” Atlas slams his hand against the high-top table. “I’m a delight, right?”
“You’re . . . you’re nicer than I thought you would be,” I say. “Then you could be being nice to me because you think you can change my mind about the farm.”
“Can I?” he asks, so much hope in his eyes that it’s actually cute.
“I don’t know.” I sigh. “I don’t even know what I’m doing to be honest.” I lift up my cup and take a sip. “This is getting depressing. Maybe I should leave.”
“No, don’t leave. We want you here,” Storee says. “Right, boys?”
“I wouldn’t mind if both of them left,” Cole says, clearly wanting alone time with his wife.
“That’s fine. I can take off.” I down the rest of my cider. “Umm, perhaps there is a shuttle service off to the farm?”
“How about we get some water and walk it off?” Atlas suggests.
I look him up and down. “Just you and me?”
“I’d love that. Great idea,” Cole says and then takes Storee by the hand. “Have a great night.”
And before Storee can even get a word in, they take off, leaving me alone with Atlas.
“Wow, that was . . . that was a quick exit,” I say.
Atlas’s gaze trails after them. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move that quickly before.” He brings his attention back to me. “Well, shall we?” He gestures to a booth that’s selling water, and I nod.
He purchases us a bottle each, even though I tried to pay, and then together, we head toward the river that runs behind Santa’s house and butts up at the base of the mountainside.
I believe they call it the riverwalk. But it’s lit up this evening with even more lights than usual, forming a long tunnel of all different colored lights.
It’s beautiful.
“You grew up with this?” I ask, marveling as we approach the tunnel.
“I did,” Atlas says. “And oddly, it never gets old.”
“Really? You never get tired of all the Christmas decorations and music and the holly jolliness?”
He shakes his head. “No, because it’s a special time of the year.
It’s when the most magic happens, and I like seeing everyone experience that magic.
It’s one of the pleasures of working on the farm.
Watching families pick out their perfect tree, making gingerbread houses, going on sleigh rides .
. . petting the reindeer. I might live in that element, but for some people, it’s their first time seeing it, experiencing it, and I just love experiencing their joy. ”
That makes me stop because . . . how?
How is this the same man that Uncle Dwight has said is a horrible human being? I don’t get it. The stories don’t align.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Just . . . confused,” I say.
“Why?” he asks.
“Because you’re just . . . you’re not what I expected.”
“I told you, you need to get to know me.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“And now that you are, what are you finding?”
I take a sip of my water and tilt my head as I look up at him. “That you’re sweet. That you’re goofy. That you and I seem like the same rambling person.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“That you’re sensitive, a good friend, someone who is welcoming to all.”
“I mean, I’m not going to steer you wrong on that.”
I chuckle. “You’re making it hard not to like you.”
His brows raise, and he leans in a little. “Are you saying . . . I’m not on your hate list?”
“I don’t have a hate list, but if I were to have a hate list, your name would not be on it.”
The smile that crosses his lips nearly makes me weak in the knees. Consider me almost fainting. What did they call it in historical times? Swooning?
Yup, I’m swooning.
“Well then, I think that’s cause for celebration.” He holds out his hand, and I stare down at it for a moment. When I don’t take it, he reaches for my hand and interlaces our fingers together.
Nervous, I ask, “What kind of celebration?”
“A true Kringle celebration.”
“What does that entail?”
“Well, you want to learn what this town is about, right?”
“Yes.” I nod.
“Then it’s time to experience it, but you have to give in to the entire experience. Think you can do that?”
I wet my lips, knowing if Uncle Dwight ever knew about this, he’d probably murder me, but then again, the temptation is real. I can always pass it off as research, getting close to the enemy. He doesn’t have to know it’s because I truly, desperately want to see Atlas smile again.
“And what constitutes the whole experience?”
He smirks. “Everything. Traditions, food, music, shopping . . . everything.”
I mull it over, giving it some thought, only for him to squeeze my hand.
“Come on. Say yes. I promise it will be fun.”
I have no doubt about that.
He’s a fun guy. I can see that already from the time I’ve spent with him.
“You know you want to,” he jokingly says, and he’s right.
I do.
I really do.
I oddly want to see where this night could take us. I want to learn about the Kringle traditions. I want to spend just a touch more time with him, even though Uncle Dwight would probably have a heart attack, but he’s not here.
It can’t hurt, right?
“Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”
A large smile stretches across his lips before he nods toward the sky and says, “Then look up.”
My eyes trail up his body, past his face, and right up to the sky where a bundle of greenery hangs over us.
But not just any bundle of greenery.
No, it’s mistletoe.
How on earth did I miss that?
Before I can ask, he pulls me in by the hand, wraps his arm around my waist, and then tilts my chin up. Warmth spreads through me as his beautiful eyes connect with mine, anticipation and promise beaming from them.
“Tell me no,” he says, his hand carefully sliding up my neck.
Oh God, this . . . this was not what I was expecting, but . . . tell him no?
He wants me to tell him no?
How could I possibly tell him no?
Ever since Storee mentioned his lips, it’s what I’ve been thinking about all night. It’s what I’ve been stealing glances of.
And in my semi-drunk state, there’s no way I’d be able to turn him down.
“Why would I say no?” I ask, making that smile reappear again, right before he grips my cheek and lowers his lips to mine. On a sharp intake of breath, our mouths connect, and I feel myself melt into him.
My hand to his chest.
His thumb pressing my chin up.
My legs feeling wobbly beneath me.
And just as I settle in for more, he pulls away.
It was just a peck, loose-lipped and no tongue, but the damage has been done, because as he releases me, my eyes slowly open back up. When my gaze meets his, I know for a fact that I’m in a whole lot of trouble.
Because that kind of kiss is not something I will forget anytime soon.