The Christmas Gift. Darlene Gardner
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“We haven’t done much.” Milo stomped his feet and rubbed his hands to keep warm. “Why do you think we always hang out at your parents’ house?”
“Go on, you two.” Grandma Novak swept her right arm toward the house next door. “And take your time. There’s no rush on the mulled wine.”
The inside of the one-story ranch-style home where Alex lived with his father was nearly identical in layout to the Novaks’. A living room, kitchen and dining room accounted for one side of the house. A hall leading to the bedrooms and bathroom took up the other. The warmth from the radiator heating system made it feel cozy after the chill of the outdoors. Alex cocked an eyebrow at Krista’s scarf, hat and red winter coat.
“If you take all that off for the tour, you’ll just have to put it back on again,” he said.
“I’m not here for a tour!” Krista sounded as though she were stating the obvious when the situation was anything but.
“If I didn’t know better,” Alex said, slowly drawing out the words, “I’d think you were trying to get me alone.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Alex’s muscles tensed, and the temperature in the room seemed higher than it had mere moments ago. Was Krista finally following through on the hypothetical she’d posed in the car? Was she propositioning him?
“We need to put a stop to this couple nonsense straight away,” Krista said.
Alex felt like a fool. The entire caroling group knew he and Krista were alone in his house. Of course she hadn’t been about to propose they make wild, passionate love. “And here I thought you were open to the idea.”
“To having another fling! Not to being a couple! Can you imagine what my mother would make of that?”
Alex wasn’t looking to build a lasting relationship with Krista, either, but hearing her reject the idea so forcefully stung. “Hate to break this to you,” he said, “but you added fuel to the fire by insisting on coming over here.”
Alex headed for the rear of the house and the wine rack he’d had built into the cabinetry a few years back when they’d had the kitchen remodeled. He examined the selection, aware without turning that she was close behind him.
“How else could I get a private moment with you?” Krista asked. “We need to discourage people from thinking we’re an item.”
The twelve-bottle wine rack was half-full, with a number of different types of red wines represented. “Any idea what kind of wine is best for mulling?”
“What? No,” Krista said. “I don’t have the faintest idea.”
“Maybe a merlot.” Alex had a choice of two brands, pulled out the less expensive bottle and held it up to her. “I got this one at the grocery store. I’m no connoisseur but I wouldn’t put mulling spices in fine wine.”
“Neither would—” Krista stopped talking midsentence. “Why are we talking about wine? We’re wasting time. We need a strategy.”
She’d taken off her hat, the only concession to being indoors, and the static electricity in her hair caused it to frizz. Her nose, the one he disagreed was too long, was red from the prolonged exposure to the cold. So were her lips. She’d looked so put together since arriving that he enjoyed seeing her frazzled.
“Why?” he asked. “What does it matter what your mother thinks?”
“You know what she’s like, Alex,” Krista said. “She’ll use any means possible to get me to move back to Pennsylvania. If she believes we have something going, that’s leverage.”
“I still don’t get it,” he said. “If you know you’re staying in Prague, what’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that she’ll make my life miserable!”
“So tell her there’s nothing going on,” Alex suggested.
“It’ll have to be the truth.” Krista touched him on the sleeve of his jacket. “This flirting we’ve been doing, it can’t go any further.”
“We’ve been flirting?” he asked.
“I have.” She squeezed his arm. “I can’t forget how great we were in bed together. You were there. You must remember, too.”
Oh, yeah. He remembered.
“The past is the past,” Alex said. “The present is a whole new ball game.”
“So you’re not attracted to me anymore?” she demanded.
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