That Christmas Kind of Feeling, page 1
That Christmas Kind of Feeling
Hannah Bird
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Also by Hannah Bird
Acknowledgments
About Hannah Bird
Copyright @ 2023 by Hannah Lindsay. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Editor and Formatter: Lea Ann Schafer
Cover Design: Y’all, That Graphic
Published in the United States.
For Andrew,
The coworker who became the love of my life.
Chapter One
It’s an inevitable death, but I’m annoyed all the same.
The red bulb has been flickering on and off for the better half of the morning, waning right along with my energy. From its position halfway up my miniature Christmas tree, it carries a lot of weight on its shoulders. When it finally winks out, the top half of the tree goes dark with it. Not to mention the minuscule shreds of my holiday spirit.
Dread has been slowly seeping into my bones with every tick of the wall clock toward five. While everyone around me crackles with energy, partially funded by a sugar high courtesy of Lacey in Accounting, I stare at that minute hand and beg it to slow down. To stop.
Apparently I’m willing to mess with the space-time continuum if it means avoiding another holiday with my family.
“Brought you a cookie,” Paige says, depositing the powdered-sugar-doused confection on my desk. “Well, really Lacey brought them. But I took it on the trek from the break room to your desk, so I deserve some of the credit.”
“Thanks.” I pluck a Kleenex from my tissue box and use it to collect the cookie. No need for powdered sugar to get on my fingers, thus coating my keyboard. One bite and my mouth is flooded with buttery goodness that has my stomach growling in applause. “This is the first thing I’ve eaten all day, and it’s really going to put the ham sandwich in my lunch box to shame.”
Her eyebrow quirks. “It’s two in the afternoon. Why haven’t you eaten?”
I swallow the rest of the dessert and use the tissue to clear any debris off my desk. “I’ve just been super busy.”
“With what, watching your tree lights go out?”
My gaze flashes to hers, to which she tuts, “Girl, my cubicle is right there.” A neon-pink nail lights the way to the desk directly adjacent to mine. “I’ve been watching you watch it for so long that I got invested.” She reaches over my lap and grabs the base of the tree, dragging it across my desk until it rests in front of her. With amazing precision, she locates the faulty bulb and gives it a jiggle before blowing a frustrated breath through pursed lips. “You don’t have a spare, do you?”
“Let me just check my Christmas decor backup drawer,” I deadpan, yanking open the top drawer of my filing cabinet to reveal a plethora of sticky notepads, paper clips, and Crystal Light packets. “Mm, sorry. Must’ve used my last Christmas light already.”
Paige rolls her deep brown eyes at me. As my best friend of almost five years, she can read me in a way that makes me squirm. Still, when her gaze softens and she releases the bulb to rest a hand on my shoulder, I feel the tension in my spine dissipate immediately. Sometimes no matter how hard you’re hiding, it feels really good to be seen. Maybe especially then.
“I wish I had a way to make the holidays better for you.” She pinches the curve of my neck. “If I didn’t have a flight to catch, I’d brave Chicago traffic just to pull up in those suburbs and give your mom and stepdad a piece of my damn mind.”
“Or, hear me out…” I peer up at her with what I hope is a gaze that’s just pathetic enough to be convincing. “You could take me with you.”
She snickers, turning away to retrieve her desk chair. Her ass hits the seat, and then she crab-walks over to me. “If it were my family, I one hundred percent would. You know that.”
I nod, my roughly chopped bangs falling across my eyes. “I do. Tom and Sarah are the best.”
“The feeling is mutual.” She uses both hands to brush the hair out of my line of sight. “My parents love you. But this trip is with Brandon and his whole extended family. I don’t know what their deal is with cruises, but I swear it’s the only type of vacation they’ll take.”
My gaze falls to the snowdrifts blowing past the window. “I mean, I can kinda see the allure.”
Her chair groans as she sits back, expression suddenly contemplative. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t either. Wisconsin winters are brutal.” She picks at a stray cuticle on her left hand. “It’s just weird because it’s, like, his whole family going. His dads, his grandparents on both sides. Even his sister is coming back from London for this cruise.”
Eventually she must feel my gaze boring into her because she finally glances up. “What?”
“Paige.” I lean forward and cover her hands with my own. “Do you think he’s going to propose?”
Her lips flatten, causing the dimple in her right cheek to appear. A haze glosses over her eyes as she nods, slowly at first and then so fast I’m afraid she’ll get whiplash.
“That’s amazing!” I squeal, and she squeals in return, and soon we’re just two squealing, hugging girls in the middle of our office where instrumental Christmas music plays over the crackly speakers and people pretend to work on the last day before break.
“Do you two mind?” Glenn grumbles, leaning back in his chair to peer around the partition between our cubicles. “Some people are actually working, you know.”
He’s playing solitaire, Paige mouths. With her back to him, he’s none the wiser, but I have to suppress my chuckle with a fake cough.
“Right. Sorry, Glenn,” I manage to force out. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
He grunts his disapproval but sits back up, thus disappearing from sight.
Paige gathers her long, dark waves to one side, exposing the column of her throat. She’s flushed with excitement, and it colors her olive-toned skin all the way down until it disappears beneath the collar of her maroon sweater. I grab my nearest notebook and use it to fan her, which she accepts with a tossed-back head and quiet laughter so as not to upset Glenn.
When she’s cooled down enough, she plucks the notebook from my hands and turns it over to examine the page. “Destinations to Explore Solo,” she reads. “Hey! Why don’t I get to hike the Narrows with you?”
“One, because you hate hiking.” I pinch the metal rings of the notebook and remove it from her grasp. “And two, you’ll be off galivanting with your fiancé.”
I work hard to keep any trace of bitterness out of my voice. After all, I am ecstatic for Paige. She and Brandon deserve nothing but happiness. Sometimes it’s just hard knowing everyone has someone they belong to. Whether it’s my mom and her new family with no space for me in it, or Paige with her soon-to-be fiancé’s literal boatload of supporters, they’re all part of something bigger than just themselves.
And then there’s me. The exception to the rule.
Paige studies me for a moment, head tilted. Then, soft as a whisper, she strokes my cheek with the backs of her knuckles. “I’m sorry, Amelia. I really am.”
Somehow, without intending to, I’ve found myself on the verge of tears. Blinking them back, I sit up and shake my head. “Anyway, I should probably finish up—”
“You know who would have a spare light?”
“Hm?” I turn back to her, brow furrowed.
She reaches out and flicks the defunct Christmas tree. “A replacement.” She stands, gathering the tree in her arms, and takes two long strides down the corridor. “I’ll bet you Levi has some.”
“Levi?” I scramble from my chair and follow her. With my short legs, it takes three of my steps to match one of hers, so I’m already lagging behind by the time we make our way into the North Hall where the newer offices are housed. As fast as Lakehouse Creative Media has been growing, we ran out of space with the latest round of hiring. That landed our newly appointed market analyst in a cubicle far, far away from me—which has proven to be good for my career.
Because Levi Abner is a walking distraction, all six feet five inches of him. Not just tall, either; years spent playing football for the University of Wisconsin left his naturally broad body thick with muscle. The first time I saw him in a cubicle, I almost laughed out loud. It looked like someone had herded a bear into our office and asked him to crunch some numbers.
An attractive, charming bear.
Every conversation we’ve had has ended with me flustered and sweaty, which Paige never ceases to make jokes about. Luckily the distance between our desks and lack of overlap in daily tasks means we rarely run into each other.
Except for today, apparently.
Paige marches right up to his desk, which to my surprise is decked out to the nines in holiday decor. Garland strung along the top of his cubicl
Levi glances up at the intrusion, though the way his face relaxes into a wide smile suggests it’s anything but. That’s the thing about Levi. Not only is he gorgeous; he’s also unwaveringly friendly.
It’s a deadly combination for my heart.
“Hi, Paige.” His gaze drifts from her to me as I bring up the rear, a fine sheen of sweat already breaking out across my forehead. Deep blue eyes lock on to mine, and that smile grows even wider. “Amelia. Nice to see you in my neck of the woods for once.”
That’s the other thing about Levi. He came to Wisconsin to play football, but he grew up somewhere in the South. It’s there in the lilt and lull of his accent, so subtle I wanna lean closer to hear it clearly.
Paige clears her throat, pulling me back from the rabbit hole I nearly fell into. It’d be her fault anyway for dragging me over here, knowing I lose all brain function in this man’s presence.
“Um, hi.” She cuts her gaze intentionally from me to Levi, drawing his attention back to her. “We have a dilemma we were hoping you could help with.”
He leans forward onto his elbows, lacing his fingers together at the apex. “I love a good pickle. Whatcha got?”
He may be the only man in the universe who can make that sentence sound sexy.
“Amelia’s tree had a lightbulb go out.” She flicks the bulb, which can’t be good for it. But what do I know? “And we were wondering if you had a spare.”
The corner of his mouth turns up, and my stomach flips over in a way that only a bottle of wine and a soak in the tub later will come close to fixing.
Short of him joining me in said tub…if he would even fit.
“Hello, earth to Amelia.” The bright pink of Paige’s fingernails flashes in front of my vision as she snaps to bring me back from the first positive thought I’ve had all day. Damn it.
“Sorry, must’ve zoned out there for a sec.” Paige’s dimple appears due to a barely suppressed grin on her part. I scowl while Levi inspects the tree. “What’d I miss?”
“I said I have a few emails that need urgent attention”—her stare is purposeful as it levels with mine—“but that you’d stay while Levi fixes the tree. Sound good?”
Before I can open my mouth to say otherwise, she nods.
“Perfect.” With a wave tossed over her shoulder at Levi, she skirts me on her path back to our side of the office. “Have fun, you two!”
When I glance back down at Levi, he’s watching me with an unreadable expression, one eyebrow arched, and that pillowy bottom lip caught on his pearlescent teeth.
I shift my weight and swallow, though my throat is so dry I nearly choke. “What?”
He shakes his head like he too had drifted off and narrows his gaze on the bulb between his fingers. “Nothing. I actually do have a backup that’ll work. It should be right here.” He leans over and opens a few of the drawers attached to his desk before finding one that looks like Christmas threw up in it. With a surprisingly delicate touch, he selects the appropriate bulb—a tiny thing no bigger than a thimble—and nudges the drawer shut with his elbow.
I feel so incredibly awkward just standing here watching him. My hands fold together at my waist just to have something to hold onto. “Thanks for doing this.”
“It’s no problem.” He carefully removes the blown-out bulb and tosses it in the trash can by his foot. “Can’t have your tree half-lit this close to Christmas. That’ll put a damper on anyone’s spirit.”
A slightly harsh snort escapes me, startling both of us.
This time it’s his turn to say, “What?”
I shake my head. Trauma dumping on my attractive coworker isn’t exactly high on my list of favored activities. I’m about to attempt a joke to downplay the awkwardness, though everything I know of humor has left my brain all of a sudden, when a phone starts ringing and draws his attention away from me.
He removes his cell from his pocket, narrowing his gaze at the screen. “Sorry, just a second.”
“No problem. Take your time.” I hold up both hands with my palms out, hoping he won’t notice the sweat coating them.
“Hello?” But he says it in that distinctly Southern way that almost sounds like hyello.
I wrestle with the smile that wants to form in response.
“Hey, Tanya… Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. It’s been going around for sure.” He raises a hand to his brow and pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, I completely understand. Just take care of yourself and focus on getting better.”
Distant chattering continues on the other end as he drops his hand, but his eyes remain closed.
“It’s all right. Don’t beat yourself up about it. No one gets the flu for the fun of it.”
More chattering. I begin to wonder if I should just collect my tree and run.
“I appreciate you letting me know. Have a good day.” He starts to hang up but jerks the phone back to his ear. “Oh, and Tanya? Try to have a merry Christmas.”
See? So. Nice.
A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he sets the phone down on his desk.
“Everything okay?”
“Just my pet sitter.” He grabs the replacement bulb and fills the empty setting. “She has the flu, so she can’t come watch my dog this weekend.”
I fidget absent-mindedly with the hem of my cardigan while watching him work. “Going somewhere for the holiday?”
He studies the power strip beneath his desk for a moment before deciding on a cord to unplug. The string of lights around the trash can goes dark. He plugs mine in, in their place. To my surprise, the whole tree lights up.
His expression brightens ever so slightly. “Yeah, I was. But Finley can’t travel in the car—he gets super motion sick and won’t eat for days after, no matter what medication I give him before, during, or after.” He unplugs the tree and passes it back to me. “But change of plans, I guess.”
I don’t know what comes over me—if it’s his fingertips brushing mine as we exchange the tree or the forlorn look on his normally effervescent face or the absolute dread I feel at going home for Christmas—but I find the words, “I’ll do it,” bubbling out of me before I can second-guess them.
Hope lights up his eyes, but he counters it with a questioning tilt of his head. “You will?”
“Yeah, I’d be happy to.” I rock forward on my toes, then back onto my heels. “I mean, I’m technically not supposed to have dogs in my apartment building, but I could probably sneak him in—”
“Or you could stay at my place.” He winces like the implication has hit him square in the face. “I mean, it’s what Tanya does. I have a guest bedroom, and it’s already set up for her. If that’s not something you’re comfortable with, though, I completely understand.”
A hot flash streaks down my spine at the idea of being in his house, the intimacy of it settling heavy in my stomach. Somehow I manage to squeak out, “I don’t mind,” despite the fever pitch of my hormones.
He folds his hands together and leans forward on his knees. “Are you sure? You don’t have any plans? Family…or…”
I don’t pretend to think he’s asking if I’m single. Not even for a second.
“Nope.” Okay, I may not think it. But I do hope it. “Nothing.”
His sigh of relief would be easy to read into if it weren’t for the fact that I’m literally saving his vacation right now.
“Wow, I don’t know how to thank you for this. I mean, obviously I’ll be paying you. But you have no idea how much this means to me.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. The list of people I want to make happy in my life has grown increasingly shorter over the years as I’ve learned about the miracle that is a boundary, but suddenly Levi Abner just made it to the top of that list.
