“A…friend,” he finally says. “She’s someone I met online, too, actually. A pen pal of sorts.”
I smile. “Really? Have you met in person?”
“No.” He glances away, staring into the fire. “Not yet.”
Gently, I nudge his knee. “Why not? Mr. Frost, what do you have to hide about yourself behind the trusty protection of online chatrooms?”
He rolls his eyes. “Let’s see. A less than warm and cheery first impression. Black moods, especially around the holidays. Avoiding the ‘I have diabetes’ talk.”
“Please. You have a grinch fa?ade, but underneath is a heart of gold. And as for your less than cooperative pancreas, if she gives you hell—” I mime a one-two punch. “Lemme at her.”
I don’t even think he sees me. He’s lost in thought, staring into the fire still. “What happens,” he asks quietly, “when you meet and… What if he’s not how you pictured him? What if he’s the last person you expected?”
“I don’t know. I just wish I’d met him months ago, and this wouldn’t be an issue. I wish we didn’t have this built-up idealization that we’ll have to unlearn and work through.”
“So you wish you knew the messy truths.” His gaze snaps my way. “The hard-to-love parts of him.”
“Don’t you? Don’t you feel that way about her?”
His eyes search mine. “Yes. So much.”
“Then be brave,” I tell him, closing the distance between us and squeezing his hand, torn as I struggle against the unreasonable possessiveness I feel for him. “Promise me you’ll meet her, and when she meets you, she’ll be lucky enough to see the real you, all of you, Jonathan Frost.”
Staring at me, he’s quiet for a long moment before he flips his hand and squeezes mine back. “You think she’ll like that?”
“Jonathan. You’re a grumpy curmudgeon, but you’re also one of the best people I know. You’ve devoted yourself to this place. You’d do anything for the Baileys. You’ve been a good friend to me the past eleven days and an exceptional co-manager. You love your nephew so hard, seeing you two together made my ovaries do calisthenics—”
“Made them do what?”
“Shh, I’m being poetic. Let me pep-talk you. You’re a rock star uncle and brother—you went and cleaned off your sister’s car before they left because it had snowed, I saw you. You’re smart and have the driest humor of anyone I’ve ever met, and if you’re anything like in my sex dreams, you’re an amazing lover—oh my GOD, I just said that.”
I clap both hands over my mouth.
Jonathan’s eyes widen. “What did you just say?
“Nothing.” A blush heats my cheeks. A blush like I see heating his cheeks, too. “I should go.”
Standing, I turn off the gas fireplace, escape to the back room, and start to bundle myself up for the walk home. I have to get out of here, before I say or do anything else to shatter this fragile, lovely thing we’ve built.
Friendship.
But then I feel him behind me, warm and close. So temptingly close. “Gabriella—”
“What I meant to say,” I whisper, in the semi-darkness of the store, facing away from him. I scrunch my eyes shut and take a deep, steadying breath. “Was that if she’s worthy of you, she’s not going to like knowing all of you, Jonathan.” I turn with his coat in my hand and set it gently in his arms. “She’ll love it.”
Jonathan slowly tugs on his jacket. I slip on mine. It’s not until I’ve pulled on my mittens that I realize I forgot to button my coat.
“Dammit,” I mutter.
Jonathan brushes my hands away as I start to remove my mittens and steps closer, deftly buttoning each one. He looks more serious than ever, eyes on his task, and I watch him with a knot in my throat. I breathe in his wintry woods scent and soak up the sight of him. “When will I see you?”
He fumbles with a button. “Soon. There’s a lot to work out with the store.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
His mouth tips at the corner. “Gonna miss me, Di Natale?”
“Like I miss an abscessed tooth.”
His mouth tips a little more. It’s the closest to a smile yet. “Good.”
And then we step out into the snowy world. Jonathan locks up, mouth pursed as he concentrates before he says, “I’ll walk you home.”
“Jonathan, you don’t have to.”