back at me from under those thick lashes. “She was okay when I told her what I needed to do tonight.”
“You felt the need to volunteer?” I ask with my eyebrows pinched in question.
His eyes crinkle as he stares at me for a beat. His lips part, as if he’s about to speak, and then close. “Something like that.” Taking his hands out of his pockets, he clasps them together and searches around the room. “Okay, so what still has to be done?”
I hold out the tape for him. “We have about ten minutes until the doors open. Help me hang these up.”
Without pause, he takes it from me and follows me around the room as I put up the last of the decorations.
“You know, when you mentioned you were volunteering, you didn’t mention it was a men’s-only shelter,” he says as he hands me a strip of tape.
“So?” I ask, confused by what he might be insinuating.
“This isn’t going to be all tinsel and snowflakes,” he says, eyeing the cutesy decoration in my hand. “There’s gonna be some real down-and-out men in here. Some with mental health and substance abuse issues, violent offenders—”
“Not everyone who’s homeless is a nutcase.”
He nods. “You’re one hundred percent correct. I just wanted to make sure my Katie McGee was okay.”
I halt my steps and turn to him. “I can handle myself.”
“I know you can.”
“Are you being condescending?”
I place a hand on my hip and scowl at him. He grins at the action.
With his fingers gripping my arms, he steps forward and explains, “All I’m saying is, I feel better, being here for your first time volunteering, just in case anything happens.” He puts an emphasis on just in case, which makes me roll my eyes. His thumbs run circles on my arms as he stares into my eyes. “Besides, I kind of wanted to spend the evening with you.”
His admission makes my breath catch.
“Why?” I ask quietly.
His eyes dazzle me as he looks at me and skims his teeth along his lower lip. For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me.
Instead, he smiles and says, “Maybe I have a thing for girls in light-up reindeer sweaters.”
I glance down at my red-and-green sweater, which was in the ugly Christmas sweater section at Target. I thought it was absolutely adorable. Inside is a battery pack that turns on the reindeer’s nose and lights up his antlers.
“You like it?” I ask jokingly as I model it.
He laughs lightly and tilts his head up at my reindeer headband, which is secure above my high ponytail. “The antlers are the best part.”
I ball my fists to my chest rolling them as if I were a prancing reindeer. “So much for loosening buttons and letting my hair down. If I’d known this was my sexiest look, I would have been prancing around Branson’s office all year!” I giggle at my own humor.
My joke falls flat because Hunter isn’t laughing. His head points down, and he smiles to himself, lowering his hands from my arms.
With the clearing of his throat, he rubs his hands together and claps them as he says, “It’s almost dinnertime.”
“Right. I’m on serving duty. Do you know what you’re doing?”
“I’m at the door. So, I’d better get to it.” He points toward the entrance.
I nod and straighten my sweater. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
Hunter walks to his post, and I take my place behind the tables. The Sternos are lit, and I grab a tong while talking to the other volunteers about how much we’re to serve each person and who to alert when the trays are running low. When the doors open and the men walk in to grab their plates, my stomach tightens at their state.
Some men seem like they’ve been living on the streets for years without a shower, and others, I’d never know they were down-and-out. They’re all quick to get their plates and make their way down the rows for food. There are smells that even the scent of the chicken parmigiana I’m serving can’t mask, and there are some who just smell like the cold air.
In the first half hour, I’m cursed at and told I’m horrible for not offering more than the allotted amount, and I receive lewd comments. But more than that, people also say thank you, God bless you, and Merry Christmas.
I didn’t know what to expect when I signed up for this. It wasn’t to make myself feel good or to have boasting