children too much. But yes,” she quickly said, before he could react to her teasing, “you’re right about both. I thought we’d covered that already.”
They had, but he was making sure. “So…could Chris O’Hare ask Max?”
The way she sucked in a sharp breath and stopped still told him she hadn’t considered that option.
“Brilliant,” she whispered, the word fogging the air in front of her. Then she repeated, louder, whirling to face him, “Brilliant, Andrew!”
“Well, I—”
That was as far as he got before she threw her arms around his neck. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her middle and lifted, twirling her around in a circle, right there in the middle of the snow-covered road, acting like children again.
But that’s what she did for him; she made him feel like anything was possible, as if he could do anything.
Slowly, he lowered her to her toes, and they stared into each other’s eyes.
“Brilliant,” she whispered a third time.
He wanted to kiss her. And from the way she was looking up at him, she wanted to kiss him too.
But he hadn’t won her, not yet, so the timing wasn’t right. If he could help her with this assignment, help her win the position she wanted, the position which would keep her here in Everland, then the timing would be right.
So he cleared his throat. “Would you like my help introducing Mr. O’Hare to Max?”
The besotted look in her eyes slowly turned to all-business as she blinked, then blinked again. “Yes,” she said, settling back on her heels, then clearing her throat and loosening her hold on him. “But they’ve met before, remember?”
Andrew reached up and pulled her arms from around his neck, cupping her hands in his. “Then I shall invite them both back to The Gingerbread House tomorrow evening. It should be relatively empty on December twenty-third, so we should have the table to ourselves.”
December twenty-third was two days before Christmas, and the day before her birthday.
But she didn’t seem to be thinking about that when she gave him a big grin. “I think that’s a fine idea. I’m excited to see how the evening shakes down.”
He had to smile at her adorably unique combination of fine manners and poker-table speech. That’s one of the things he loved about her.
Because, oh yes, he loved this woman.
Bringing her hands to his lips, he brushed a kiss across her gloved skin. “Tomorrow it is then.”
She smiled. “Tomorrow.”
Chapter 9
“I gotta say, Chris, you’re much more relaxed today.”
Christa shrugged, one corner of her lips pulling up in a rueful grin as she deftly dealt the next hand and tried not to yawn. Despite the recent restless nights, she was more relaxed than she’d been last time she’d played Max DeVille, and it was entirely thanks to the third man sitting at their table.
“It’s almost Christmas,” she pointed out, as an excuse. It was a good one; the town was decorated festively, and even the bartender at The Gingerbread House was whistling a carol as he washed glasses. The fact it was the afternoon of December twenty-third meant the saloon was nearly empty.
Max chuckled as he scooped up the cards. “That’s enough to make any man relax. I’m glad you stuck around Everland long enough to celebrate. We’ve got a really nice Christmas celebration happening tomorrow night.”
She wasn’t sure if Max was even paying attention to his words, or if his mouth just ran while he was looking at his hand. She exchanged a glance with Andrew and loved the way his lips twitched as well.
“I’m rather excited myself,” Andrew said, speaking to Max, but looking at Christa. “Last year’s was cancelled, but my family tells me it’s one of the biggest celebrations of the year, outside of July Fourth. Great food, good music, and lots of fun.”
Max hummed, snapped his cards together, then tapped them on the table. “Your turn to open,” he told Christa, then shifted to speak to Andrew. “Are you bringing a date tomorrow?”
“A date?” The older man blinked.
Max must’ve assumed he’d misunderstood. “Sure, a lady friend. Like this woman I’ve been hearing all about. I want to meet her!”
“Oh, you will.” Chuckling, Andrew matched the bet and the play continued.
Christa had had to stop herself a few times from blurting out her questions to Max. Doing so would raise his suspicions, and that irked her. Why couldn’t she just come out and ask him how he felt about Sibyl Miller, if he even knew her at all? The rules were silly.
Maybe you’re