Tic-Tac-Mistletoe - N.R. Walker Page 0,62

days, but . . .” He sighed. “But I think I do know you. Not overly well, admittedly, and I’m sure you have some lurking behavioural traits that might possibly drive me mad, which is not a bad thing because just you wait to find out mine. But I know you saved me, and you looked after me. I know how you get sad when you talk about your dad, and I know you mumble in your sleep, and you love your family business, and you’re part of a community that you call home. You know where you belong in this world, and I envy that. I know you’re one of the most genuine and sweetest guys I’ve ever met. And I know I want to see you again. I want to spend more time with you, and I want to know everything there is to know about you. So yeah, we’ve known each other for 3.5 days, but so what? I know enough to know I want to know more.”

My heart was just about thumping right out of my chest and my belly was full of butterflies. Pretty sure my smile told him all he needed to know. “Hamish,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “I want more with you too. More of everything. More of you. The last three days have been the best three days I’ve ever spent with anyone. I can be me with you, and it’s so natural and comfortable . . . it feels like I’ve known you for years. So yeah, when we talked before of possibilities, I mean it. I want to see where things go with us. Because I really like you too. And I think we could have something special. And I know it’s complicated. I know you’ll be living here, but Mossley’s not that far from Hartbridge. And I know you’re only here for two years, but honestly, I’ll take two years of perfection over a lifetime of mediocre.”

He laughed, a little teary. “Perfection? I don’t know about that. I mean, it’d be close . . .”

I chuckled, taking in his beautiful smile and those gorgeous dark eyes and how he was carrying Chutney in his coat like a baby. “Haims, I think you could be my Mariah Carey.”

He gasped. “Are we David and Patrick from Schitt’s Creek? Oh my God, we’re David and Patrick. I’m David, obviously.”

I laughed. “You’re possibly more David than the actual David.”

He grinned. “Does this mean I can start wearing black skirts over my jeans?”

“If you want.” I laughed and nodded back to his sister’s house. “How about we go back inside, have some hot coffee, and play a few more games of tic-tac-toe before I have to leave?”

Hamish nodded. “Okay. We should probably check to see if that mistletoe is still there too.”

“Ah, tic-tac-mistletoe. That’s a game I’d like to play.”

He laughed and turned back the way we’d come. “Good, because I can’t feel my nose or my feet.” We took a few steps. “I am curious, though, how long is kissing under mistletoe a rule for? Like, is it just at Christmas time? Or can we nail it to the ceiling of your bedroom all year round?”

I laughed. “I don’t think we’ll need it if last night was any indication.”

He hummed and he got a wicked gleam in his eye. “That’s very true. And you certainly don’t need mistletoe to kiss me.”

I pulled him to a stop and smacked a kiss square on his lips. “Like that?”

“Well, yes, but I think Chutney would disagree.”

We both looked down between us, and sure enough, poor Chutney was a bit squished. She tried to lick me, and I laughed again before taking Hamish’s hand again and leading him back to the house.

I didn’t think it was that cold—I’d certainly been in colder—but poor Hamish was not used to it. His teeth began to chatter, and he was still chattering and shivering when we got inside. I freed Chutney, took Hamish’s coat off, and plonked him on the couch by the fire.

I knelt down at his feet and began to unlace his boots. “Feel okay now?”

“B-better.”

“I’ll go make some coffee,” Liv said before wrapping a throw blanket around his shoulders.

I sat beside him and rubbed his hands. “Maybe a walk wasn’t the best idea.”

He grinned at me. “It was a great idea.” Then he spoke softer. “I didn’t want you to leave without sorting a few things out first.”

“I’m glad we talked too,” I admitted.