Jana
Eight days after Thanksgiving
“You again,” he says with a grin as I open the door. “Sorry it took longer than twenty-three hours. You had three packages, so I left them to the end of my run.” He hands over two boxes, then disappears momentarily. I tuck the first two away on my hall table and toss some catnip mice at the cats.
When he comes back with the third one, I imagine I can hear the bells jingling inside. I really need to tell Nina she’s achieved her goal, and she can stop spoiling my pets now.
“I’m really not ordering all of these packages,” I mutter, trying not to blush.
“Was it your birthday?” He hands over the clipboard and I scrawl my name.
“I have meddling friends.”
“Meddling?”
I can’t tell him I confessed my crush to my friends—maybe ex-friends now—and that’s why I’ve had a steady stream of deliveries over the last week. “It’s a long story.”
“At least you get presents out of it.” He gives me another grin that makes everything inside tighten up. I tell myself it doesn’t mean anything, but pretty much everything he does now means something, at least to me.
Which is as good a reminder as any that I need to keep it real. Light. I shake the box and sure enough, it rattles. “They’re all cat toys. I have weird friends.”
He flips his clipboard around and leans against the doorframe. “This sounds like a story I need to hear.”
“I couldn’t—”
He reaches out and presses his finger to my lips. “You can, and you will.”
He’s touching me. Everything inside me lights up, electric sparks zinging under my skin. And my heart is like, yes, sir. But my brain is smarter than that, so when I open my mouth, it overrides me telling him the story about my friends. “I don’t even know your name.”
He grins and traces his finger over my bottom lip and down my cheek, until he catches a strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. “It’s Jake.”
“Jake,” I repeat. “Not Dane.”
He shakes his head. “Not Dane.” We stare at each other for a second, maybe two, and then he leans in. “Story time.”
“You sure you don’t have other deliveries to do?”
“You’re stalling. This must be a good one. And I’ve got all night.”
I hesitate, but we both know this has been coming. “Do you want to come in?”