Mismatched Under the Mistletoe - Jess Michaels Page 0,23

changed anything now, it would make the odd rift between her and Cav a matter of public record. Not something she wanted for the rumor mill, nor for the future of their friendship.

“With Mr. Cavendish, of course. I always give myself the best advantage when it comes to a friendly competition.”

Cav smiled slightly as the crowd laughed and took the last hoop from the footman before he crossed the lawn to her. He offered an arm to her as he glanced down. “My lady.”

Oh, that was right. She had insisted the pairs join arms. So she couldn’t avoid touching him. Something she’d done so often, but never after being kissed thoroughly in the library. Now she stared at that strong arm, muscles plain even beneath the layers of greatcoat.

She wanted so much to touch him. Too much. When she did, folding her fingers at the crook of his elbow, it was like someone sucked the air from her lungs. Her head spun and she curled her toes in her warm boots.

“To the hill,” she croaked out, pointing off in the distance. The others headed off, with her and Cav in the rear. Without all the eyes in the party on them she felt more comfortable in examining his face, trying to read what he thought or felt today.

It was impossible. His expression was impassive aside from his tightly pressed lips. Lips she knew the feel of. Damn it, she had to stop thinking about that.

But still, he didn’t speak as the couples lined up at the top of the hill. She forced herself to focus on the plan and said, “Ready, set…go!”

When she said the last, the couples launched, hustling down the hill as they tried to push their hoops in any semblance of control. She and Cav did the same. He pushed the hoop and they followed, taking turns tapping it to try to keep it in line. It should have been fun. Under any other circumstance it would have been. Cav was always up for a game, he never put ego above enjoyment. And yet neither of them was laughing.

She hated it. Hated that the moment in the library had changed things. She didn’t want things to change. She wanted to depend on this man as her friend forever. Except now she also wanted more. Like a fool.

Her distraction had consequences, just as everything in life did. When Cav tapped the hoop toward her, she didn’t catch it soon enough to tap it in a straight line, and it careened off toward the opposite side of the hill, where it bounced out of sight.

She released Cav and they raced after it together, out of sight of the rest of the party, who were all laughing and stumbling toward the bottom of the hill and the makeshift finish line her staff had created with a long line of bright Christmas ribbon.

“There it is!” she said, and pointed to the hoop, which had come to rest near a little pile of rocks amongst the dead grass and long faded wildflowers.

Cav grunted but didn’t speak as they reached it together. She picked it up with one hand and then faced him. “Cav, please won’t you talk to me?”

She realized as she spoke that she was worrying her gold wedding ring, the one she still wore, and Cav’s face grew stormy as he turned away from her with a snort.

“What is the point in speaking when I know your face better than any other? I can see what you’re going to say without hearing it,” he said. “You’re going to recite an entire soliloquy about how we shouldn’t have done what we did in the library, aren’t you?”

She froze. That had been her intention, after all. To tell Cav that they couldn’t repeat the imprudence of the kiss. But now, staring at him, his face fierce in the cold, his eyes holding hers and flashing with emotion and something…hotter…bolder…she didn’t want to say that.

He shook his head when she didn’t respond, and pivoted as if to walk away. She didn’t know how she moved or how she came up with the imprudent plan that followed. But she gasped and leapt forward, gliding the hoop over his head so that he couldn’t go forward.

He spun around in the circle and arched a brow at her. “Fine. If you want to do this, I suppose there has never been any stopping you. Do you have something to say, Emily?”

“You’re right. I-I don’t want to