Holly closed her eyes and lifted her face to the light. It was one of those rare November days where the sun was shining, the sky was bright blue, and the temperatures were unseasonably warm. She took advantage and brought her lunch outside into one of the gardens on the hospital grounds.
Something moved next to her, but she ignored it. She squeezed her eyes closed tighter when she heard Nick’s voice.
“Hi, Holly.”
She sighed. “Hi, Nick.”
“I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks.”
Reluctantly, she pried her eyes open and looked straight into those blue-gray eyes that always made her whole body fizzle and pop like a shaken bottle of soda.
“I guess we haven’t been on the same schedule,” she answered.
He didn’t need to know that Holly had switched shifts to make sure it was that way.
Nick was sitting on the bench across from her, his forearms on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. He was wearing sweats and a Seattle Emeralds sweatshirt. The colors complimented his light brown hair and made his eyes stand out even more.
“Any plans for Thanksgiving?” he asked.
“I’ll be working.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Oh, well, there’s a team Christmas party in a couple of weeks.”
“I’m not really into Christmas and all of that stuff.”
“If you don’t like parties, I hear they do a big tree lighting ceremony downtown—maybe we could—”
“I don’t celebrate Christmas.”
Nick wrinkled his forehead. “Are you Jewish?”
Holly bit back a smile. “No, I just don’t like Christmas.”
“Well, maybe that’s because—”
She groaned and held up her hand. “Please don’t turn into that guy.”
“What guy?”
“That guy who thinks he’s going to show the girl the magic of Christmas. You know, the one in all the holiday movies they start showing in July. I’m just one of those people who doesn’t like all the fuss. Pine needles are messy and then it’s all this hype for one day, and…” She shrugged. “Sorry, I just don’t get it.”
Nick stared at her for a minute and then dipped his chin. “Okay, so no Christmas.”
“You’re not going to try to convince me I’m missing out?”
“Nope.”
“That’s new,” she muttered.
“We can still hang out,” he went on, undaunted. “If you don’t want to do Christmas stuff, what would you rather do?” He leaned closer and his shoulder bumped against hers. “What do you like to do?”
What do you like to do?
Holly blinked, her gaze locked on the corner of his lip that curled up just slightly. She took a breath, trying to keep from letting the clean citrus and woodsy scent from his cologne or body wash or whatever it was that made him smell so damn good distract her even more than it already did.
When the lip curled into a smile, she realized she’d been staring.
“I…”
“What would you rather do than celebrate Christmas?” he asked again.
“Go cross-country skiing, kayaking, stargazing, all sorts of things.” She shrugged.
He nodded as she ran down her list. “Okay, got it.”
This was ridiculous. What did it matter to him what she’d rather do than celebrate Christmas?
“There are four weeks in December. I figure we can hang out every weekend…” He frowned. “Unless you have other plans. Or are you working? Wait a minute. I didn’t think this through. How about this—four weeks in December, we get to hang out at least once each week.”
He grinned at her and nodded as if everything he just said made perfect sense.
She stared at him. “What?” Holly drew back.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going to do Christmas stuff.”
She shook her head. “That’s not the problem. I don’t understand why you want to hang out with me.”
“You’re the only person I know in Seattle besides the team, I think you’re funny, I think you’re beautiful, I want to get to know you better, I like you, all sorts of reasons.”
She stared at him while he mimicked her list, except each thing on his list took her by surprise. Nick thought she was all of those things?
Her heart began to hammer and her mouth went dry. She couldn’t have said anything in response, even if she wanted to.
“Well, what do you think?”
“I…okay.”
“Great.” Nick held his hand out. “Give me your phone and I’ll put in my number.”
On auto pilot, she handed over her phone. Nick gave it back to her a minute later and jumped up.
“Sorry I’ve gotta run, I’m late, I’ll see you later!”
And with that, Nick jogged across to the parking lot and climbed into a sleek black sports car, waving as he drove by.
She stared at her phone where Nick had stored his number.
What the hell had just happened?
“Holly, are you okay?” Her friend and co-worker Thanh asked when she got back to the nurses’ station, still confused.
“I…don’t know.”
Noelle, one of the other nurses she worked with, came over and put her hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“I just agreed to go on four dates with Nick Anderson.”
Noelle and Thanh exchanged a look and they both smiled.
“That’s a good thing, right?” Thanh asked.
“I’ve never been on a date,” Holly revealed.
This time the two friends exchanged worried looks.
“You’ve never been on a date, like ever?” Thanh asked.
“I was too busy in high school, add to that having it drilled into me by every foster parent and social worker I ever had that I didn’t want to end up a statistic, so I just…” Holly shrugged.
Noelle put her arm around her. “Do you want to go on a date with Nick?”
“Maybe…I don’t know. I’m just… Nick was the golden boy in high school. Every girl crushed on him. I just…” Holly shrugged. “This feels very Cinderella-ish, and I’ve never believed in fairy tales.”
“It seems too good to be true,” Noelle said with an understanding nod. “I felt the same way when I agreed to go out on a date with Hugh, but I’m so glad I did.”
Thanh cleared his throat. “Only because your best friend gave you a little push.”
Noelle grinned and rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Thanh.”
“So you both think I should go?” Holly asked. She started feeling a little anxious, now that the shock was abating.
“I think that you should listen to your heart,” Noelle said.
“And your friends,” Thanh added. “Maybe it’s time to start believing in fairy tales.”
“Don’t you dare start calling me ‘Cinderella.’ ” Holly wagged her finger at Thanh.
“Okay.” He walked away but called over his shoulder, “Bye, Cindi,” in a singsong voice.