The Christmas Wish by Melinda Curtis

The Christmas Wish by Melinda Curtis

Author:Melinda Curtis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2019-11-25T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Six

The weather outside was frightful.

Rosalie offered warmth, the same way she always did—with unexpected determination.

Yes, Everett had wanted to kiss her. Yes, he knew kissing her wasn’t good for his career goals. He was supposed to be the impartial man in town, the executor of hard choices to avoid municipal bankruptcy. He wasn’t supposed to feel. And because of Lydia, he’d spent the last eighteen months in an emotionless limbo.

But Rosalie’s kiss…It made him feel again. A heart-pounding, breath-stealing feeling that he should drop everything and pay attention to the woman nestled in the crook of his arm.

She ended the kiss on a sigh.

“Rosalie.” Her name on his lips was little more than a sigh itself.

She blinked, flinched, and drew the Saint Bernard between them. “You don’t approve. Well…I started that,” she admitted baldly. “It’s all on me.” She picked her way carefully along the icy, snowy sidewalk and away from him. “No harm, no foul, no commitments. Don’t think you have to ask me to dinner or send me flowers.”

Despite common sense telling him to turn the other way, Everett followed her. It was dark, after all, and cold. And she seemed more shaken by their kiss than he’d been.

“I may have stopped traffic in my youth but I don’t make a habit of leaping out and kissing random dudes.” Her laugh sounded forced.

“I’m not a random dude.” His comment appeared to go unnoticed.

Inside his jacket, Tink squirmed. He drew his zipper down enough that she could poke her head out.

“Jeez. I’m thirty-four. And a widow.” Rosalie laced each word with frustration. “Not the kind of woman to go attacking a man on the street.”

“Again, not a random dude on the street, and you didn’t attack me.” Although it was nice that she’d taken the initiative. And since she wasn’t looking at him, he allowed himself a smile.

“If Kimmy ever finds out about this, I’ll never hear the end of it. She’ll be like, Rosalie, you always reach out and take what you want. She’ll say that whether I’m reaching for a dinner roll or reaching for you.” Rosalie gasped. “Never fear. I’m not going to be reaching for you again.”

Everett choked out a laugh.

Rosalie drew up short, turning. “What’s so funny?”

He was very careful not to smile. “The fact that it was one kiss and you’re having a meltdown. It was a kiss, not a marriage proposal.”

She made a frustrated sound and turned down a street. “Are you walking me home?”

“I…” Was he? Everett glanced around. “Do you live on this street?”

“Yes. Don’t expect a good-night kiss.” For being such a short person, she had a brisk, long stride. “I don’t do repeat performances, not when I bombed the first time.”

“You didn’t bomb.”

“Right.” She turned up a driveway.

The small bungalow had Christmas lights strung from the eaves and a large wreath hanging from the door. Blanketed in snow, there was a charm to it. But there was something about the house that reminded him of his childhood, of upkeep put off and occupants hopeful that ends would meet.



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