Page 49 of Hogging the Hunk

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Page 49 of Hogging the Hunk

So much for going slow.

Up in the open hayloft, leaning against the guardrail, I spotted Granny and Bonita with their heads tipped in close. Their faces were illuminated by the string lights crisscrossing the ceiling, and they whispered behind their hands. I couldn’t hear them, either, but it was obvious they were conspiring.

“It looks like your grandma and my secretary are plotting,” I said, nodding my head discreetly in their direction.

Beckett searched for them until she found where they were huddled. “You’re right. We need to get better intel to discover what they’re up to. Better go out on the dance floor for a better vantage point.”

I swallowed. I wasn’t a talented dancer by any stretch of the imagination. The last time I’d formally danced with a woman was probably at my senior prom, and all I remember about the dancing part was how many times I squashed her toes with my big feet. Still, I wasn’t about to turn down the chance to get up close and personal with Beckett.

I supposed I got to hold her hand after all.

The DJ put on Bing Crosby’s White Christmas, and couples were magnetically drawn to the center. Grateful we had one easy slow song to sway back and forth to before Beckett discovered I had no other dance moves, I held out my hand to her.

Her hesitation was accompanied by a smile. She wasn’t making me wait because she was indecisive. She appeared to be soaking up the moment, memorizing the details of it all to be tucked safely away for later reminiscing. I did the same.

When she slipped her hand into mine, her fingers interlocked with mine. I held her firmly, yet gently, and I had the singular feeling that all was right with the world. I spotted Ellie at a table with Asher, and a few other kids who had congregated, laughing, their plates piled high with goodies. Truffle shook her curled tail, oinking happily as she wove in and out of the chairs, accepting back scratches from anyone and everyone.

So many of my Christmases as an adult had been lonely, spent in a quiet home where the only thing to bring me joy was my work. Now, I could see a glimmer of a potential upgrade in happiness I hadn’t known could exist for me. If I could reconcile Ellie to the idea of Beckett being in my life, I would never ask another favor of the universe again.

Beckett circled around, putting her other hand on my shoulder, while mine found her hips. We didn’t speak as our bodies found the easy rhythm of the music. My heart, on the other hand, kept the beat to a totally different tempo.

We danced like that, leaning against one another for song after song, regardless of the beat. It was so cliche to think of myself falling in love with Beckett. That suggested it was out of my control. Like once I tipped off the edge, there would be nothing I could do to change my mind. There were two possibilities from free-falling—swooping and soaring off into a happily-ever-after.

Or smacking, painfully and definitively, face first into the unforgiving ground.

One gaze from her cool sapphire eyes reassured me that there was an undeniable adventure waiting with her. So strong was the draw that in that moment, I didn’t even care about the mortal risks to my soul, should my wings not spread after taking the plunge.

Someone jostled into me, and it broke the connection we’d been sharing. Beckett blinked, reminded that we weren’t in our own world. We were smack dab in the center of the Kents’ Christmas party. People whooped and hollered, whistling shrilly at something nearby. Looking over the tops of everyone’s heads, I confirmed the source of wild entertainment. To our left, there was more kissing. Remi was clinging to her husband, Wil, to the delight of everybody in the room.

“Woo-wee!” Trixie catcalled. Preacher whistled shrilly. “I bet Wil’s mortified that he’s the center of attention. That kiss is spicy!”

Shaking his head, Preacher chuckled. “I guarantee Wil doesn’t care one bit where he is right now.”

Not everyone was thrilled. Asher had his hands over his eyes, while making fake retching noises. He’d already seen too much.

Beckett stood on her toes, barely able to see around the bodies in front of her. “What’s going on?”

“Remi and Wil are kissing,” I said, leaning down to her ear so she could hear me.

“Granny has to have put something in the eggnog.” Beckett laughed. “Every year, she pulls something here. She says she likes to make things interesting.”

At the mention of Granny, my gaze wandered around the room to find her. The fishing pole she’d brought to the party had rematerialized, and she was holding it out over the crowd. Other than the slight shimmer of the fishing line as it caught the light, it was invisible. Instead of a hook at the end, Granny had attached a large wad of greenery, secured by a red bow. Squinting, I knew I should have grabbed my glasses out of the truck, though it didn’t take long to connect the dots. Tiny white berries and slender, green leaves? It was mistletoe bobbing on her fishing pole, effectively making her capable of traveling with it. Anyone could be her target because it couldn’t be avoided.

Bonita flanked Granny, working as her accomplice. The two women cackled gleefully as they celebrated another successful mistletoe dive bombing. High-fiving each other, Granny reeled in her line. They disappeared into the swarm of people up in the hayloft, probably deciding on another set of victims.

No, victim wasn’t the right word. That implied an unwillingness to participate. So far, Parker and Maren and Wil and Remi were all too eager to have been selected.

What if Granny hung it over Beckett and I? As soon as Beckett gave me the green light, I knew I’d be all in.

Beckett swept her hair off her forehead. “Wonder what’s gotten into people. I don’t usually witness this much smoochin’ until New Year’s Eve.”

My mouth was open, ready to explain Granny’s clever yuletide trick when I heard Ellie calling for me. “Dad!”

I wheeled around, searching for my daughter. “Ellie?”

“Dad!” she called again. Truffle came first, weaving in and out of legs like she was a quarter horse running poles at a rodeo. Ellie was on the other end, holding a hot chocolate as she hurtled toward me, showing no signs of slowing.

“Ellie, careful!” I tried to shield Beckett from what I knew was coming.




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