The Christmas Keeper by Jenn McKinlay

Author:Jenn McKinlay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-10-28T16:00:00+00:00

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SAVY awoke with her head feeling fuzzy and her mouth dry. She was snuggly warm with a thick afghan over her and a pillow . . . wait. She didn’t own a pillow with a heartbeat. She opened her eyes. Gray early-morning light peeked in through the window as if trying not to disturb her. It took a moment to register the ugly Christmas sweater beneath her cheek as belonging to Quino.

She glanced down. All her clothes were on. All his clothes were on. The fire was dead. The Christmas tree lights and the television were off. The world was so quiet all she could hear were the sounds of Quino’s heartbeat and the steady inhale and exhale of his breath. She didn’t want to move. She just wanted to lie half on top of him on the sofa, where they’d clearly fallen asleep last night.

She vaguely remembered conking out during the end of the movie. Oh, man, had she been snoring? Had she been so out of it that he couldn’t wake her and send her on her way? Is that why they were curled up together like two teenagers breaking curfew? How embarrassing. Then again, it could be worse. If they’d slept together, it’d be all sorts of awkward. She’d be doing the shove the bra in a pocket and scuttle out the door walk of shame, so thank heavens she had nothing to be embarrassed about.

It came then. A memory crystalizing from the ether of her mind. She’d been looking up at him and she had—oh, God—told him he was the best she’d ever had. And she’d asked why he didn’t have any mistletoe up. Aw, man, it was the mixed-signal thing. This was what guys rightly complained about, and she had just done it. Savy always prided herself on being very clear with her wants and needs. She tried not to give anyone the wrong idea. And here she was blowing hot and cold with Quino. Argh!

This was mortifying. What was she supposed to say to him? Sorry I got plastered on eggnog. I didn’t mean anything in that truth bomb I lobbed at you. She wanted to do a facepalm. But she didn’t want to wake him. In fact, she wanted to scuttle out of here under the cold light of day and avoid him altogether. Maybe he’d had too much nog, too, and wouldn’t remember her careless words. She certainly hoped so.

She pushed herself up, painfully slowly, and moved off him. She froze once when his hand moved. He ran it across her back as if to reassure himself of her and then it fell back to his side. She slid over him, hoping he didn’t wake up, and then slowly rose to her feet, making sure he was covered by the afghan so he wouldn’t get cold. She tiptoed out of the room. With one last look at the handsome man asleep on the couch and the pretty tree

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