Yours at Yuletide by Josephine Blake

Author:Josephine Blake [Blake, Josephine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JB Publishing
Published: 2019-11-30T16:00:00+00:00

They meandered a few blocks over to the same small café they had gone to after the dinner at the Italian restaurant. Thankfully, there was no longer any screeching karaoke filling the tiny establishment. Quiet, cheerful Christmas music permeated the space. It seemed to be tinkling from a set of speakers hidden high on the walls. Everything in One More Paige seemed geared towards comfort. The décor consisted of a lot of natural wooden furniture, accompanied by the occasional over-stuffed arm chair and velvet tasseled lampshade. It gave the impression that the café was part of a rich, fussy, old lady’s living room, and Charlotte liked it very much.

She and Oliver took seats beside one another on a small settee.

“Do you have a nickname?” Oliver asked suddenly.

Charlotte looked around at him and grinned. “No? Well. I mean, sometimes Emily calls me Lottie, but only when she’s being a brat.”

Oliver chuckled. “I just… wondered if you wanted me to keep calling you Charlotte…”

Charlotte fiddled with the tassel that dangled from the lamp on the table beside them. “As oppose to…?” she prodded.

He shrugged and took a sip from his coffee. His muscled arm was draped casually over the back of the couch, his fingers brushing her shoulder. “I’m not really a pet-name kinda person,” he said. “I’m not about to call you baby after three dates.”

Charlotte snorted. “I don’t think you’re allowed to count the night we went out with my family as a date.”

“Fine. Then, after two dates,” he conceded. “But Charlotte is starting to feel a bit formal for a girl I like this much.”

Charlotte twiddle her fingers embarrassedly. She could tell Oliver was trying to gauge her response. He wanted to find out how much she liked him. Too much, she thought desperately. Way too much. She could still feel that nagging, irrational fear for him that had enveloped her at the station. It was twirling in her gut like mist—indefinable, but present.

“It’s a family name,” she said finally, trying her best to sound casual. “Evidently, I had a great-great-great grandmother something-or-other named Charlotte.”

“Yeah? Where is your family from originally?”

Charlotte waved an airy hand. “Oh, all over the place. I think think that particular grandmother was some sort of high-society gal in New York in the late 1800s or so.” She sipped at her tea, thankful for the bracing heat as it slid down her throat.

They changed topics and talked about Oliver’s family for a bit. Charlotte listened without really listening. She was all too conscious of Oliver’s fingers, and the way they were twirling idly on her shoulder.

“So my bud, Warren. The obnoxious one. He’s having a New Years Party in a few weeks. Wanna go?”

The invitation caught Charlotte off guard and she sat up straight. She had been melting into Oliver as they talked. Her legs were tucked up beside her on the sofa, and she was cuddling into his very solid chest.

“New Years?” she mumbled, her eyes focusing on his. His handsome face was comfortable, confident with the invitation.

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