My December Darling: A Holiday Novella

I’ve been on plenty of dates, but I don’t remember any of them making me this nervous. At least not since my very first one.

For the third time in ten minutes, I check my text thread with Catalina, making sure I told her the right time to meet up at Nightcap. I had offered to pick her up, but she was determined to order a ride through an app, so I dropped the idea. Part of me wanted to insist, but I let her be, knowing that pushing her on the subject might make her uncomfortable.

Catalina doesn’t seem like the type to respond well to an overbearing alpha type, and luckily, I don’t fall into that category. I’m not sure if that makes me a progressive male or a stupid one because she is already twenty minutes late—and counting.

Maybe she decided to ditch your sorry ass.

I wouldn’t blame her, seeing as I’m the one who labeled us meeting up outside of work “a date” in the first place. If she backed out of our plan while claiming food poisoning or something else, I’d be disappointed but not surprised.

I battle between calling her or casually texting to ask where she is, but before I can decide which option seems less desperate, the front door swings open. A heavy gust of wind pummels into the people standing nearest to the bar’s entryway, parting the crowd that formed by the entrance. A red-faced Catalina is easy to spot with her off-white peacoat, jeans, and a knitted hat with two pompoms attached to the top.

She looks around before her gaze lands on me, and the rosiness in her cheeks intensifies as our eyes lock. My heart rate picks up, the beats gaining speed as she walks over to the booth I saved.

I slide across the leather seat and stand to greet her.

“Hey.” She rubs at her arms aggressively. “I’m sorry I’m late.” She pauses after every word due to her teeth clattering together.

I’m not sure what possesses me to wrap my arms around her and pull her against me, but one moment she is looking up at me with her head tilted back, and the next she is sinking against my body with a sigh.

“Did you walk here or something?” I joke.

“Yes.” She sighs and digs her face into my sweater. “Two different rides cancelled on me, so I braved the weather instead.”

I’m not able to enjoy the feel of her because my anger takes hold. “What the hell.”

I pull away, but she lets out a growly protest and tugs me back with a “Not yet.”

I hope she can’t hear the way my heart furiously pounds at her proximity, or actually, maybe I do. That way, she can be well aware of how much her closeness affects me.

I’m not the type to hide my feelings behind mixed signals and a game of chase. If I like a woman, I make it obvious where I stand, and with Catalina, I’m about as subtle as a flashing neon sign at midnight.

“You should’ve called me to come pick you up,” I say, fighting the urge to shake her.

“I thought the walk would be good for me.”

“Good for what? Pneumonia?”

She muffles her laugh with my sweater, easing my irritation slightly.

I pull her into my side of the booth and wrap my arm around her, tucking her body closer to mine until there is no gap between us. Catalina fits perfectly, like a missing puzzle piece clicking into place, and I wonder how I’ve spent the last two years avoiding her.

Because you didn’t know what you were missing.

Now that I do, I plan on taking advantage of every single opportunity.

“You’re lucky if you don’t get sick,” I say once she stops shuddering beside me.

“I rarely do.” She sniffles.

“I’d be shocked if you don’t. It’s what? Zero degrees out?”

She looks up at me with wind-burned cheeks. “Gabriela will kill me if I get sick before her wedding. Plus, my mom is planning a parranda⁠—”

“A what?”

“Una parranda. It’s like Christmas caroling, but we go to people’s houses and have a party at the end.” She smiles, and all the noise in the bar and the worry I have about her getting sick fade away as I soak in the look of pure happiness on her face.

“Can I join?” I ask without hesitation. If a parranda makes Catalina look like that, I want to be a part of it, solely because she clearly cares about it.

She bites down on her bottom lip. “Aren’t you working on Saturday?”

“Did you memorize my schedule?”

“No.” Her cheeks deepen in color.

“It’s okay if you did. I’ll think it’s cute, in a stalkerish kind of way.”

She exhales loudly. “Aiden might’ve mentioned it.”

“And you remembered? I’m flattered by your attention to detail.”

She rolls her eyes. “Are you always this exasperating?”

“Depends on if I’m in the presence of a beautiful woman like you or not.”

She looks down while tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“So…this Saturday?” I ask.

“Aren’t you working?”

“I can get my shift covered.”

“All right. If you insist⁠—”

“I do.”

She fights a smile and loses. “I’ll text you the info once my mom sends it to me.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Her face contorts before she sneezes, the high-pitched sound making me laugh.

“Ugh.” She drops her head back against the booth. “If I get sick…”

“I did offer to pick you up.” Way to rub it in, Luke.

“I was being stubborn, but I learned my lesson the hard way.” She sinks deeper into my side with a sigh.

Giving her any more grief about her decision to decline my ride feels pointless, since the end result led to her pressed against me, so I decide to let it go with one last request.

“Next time, save yourself the pneumonia and call me.”

She tilts her head back and smirks. “Who said there’ll be a next time?”

“Oh. I have no doubt in my mind.”

Her eyes narrow. “Confident much?”

“With you? Never.”

A server comes over, and we both order drinks.

“Have you worked on your speech at all since yesterday?” I ask.

“No.”

Perfect. I had hoped as much since I want to stall the speech-writing process for as long as humanly possible until she calls me out on it.

Catalina’s hands shake as she pulls the notebook from the inner pocket of her coat. I pluck it from her grasp, drop it on the table, and trap her hands between mine to warm them up faster.

“Now you’re just finding reasons to keep touching me.”

The soft, contented sigh she lets out goes to my head and other places that have no business being turned on right now.

“Am I that obvious?”

“I don’t think you have a single subtle bone in your body.”

“I’m not sure whether or not to take that as an insult.”

Her lips quirk at the corners. “Let’s leave it open to interpretation then.”

It takes a few minutes to warm up her hands, and by then, our conversation turns back to the speech.

I reluctantly let her go so she can freely open the notebook to the page we left off on.

“Are you in the mood for a sappy speech or a funny one?” I ask.

“How’s yours?”

“A mix of both.”

“Wait. You can be funny?” she asks it with a straight face.

I glare before she breaks out into laughter.

Damn. I’ve never been so affected by the sound of someone else’s happiness before, nor have I craved finding other ways to elicit the same response again.

She nudges me with her shoulder. “I’m kidding. I think I want a mix too. Too much emotion from me might make people uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

“Most of them think I don’t have any.” The casual way she talks about herself pierces through my chest.

“What makes you think that?”

She stares at her notebook like the page is full of notes rather than blank lines.

“Catalina?”

Her heavy sigh feels like I’m hit dead center in the chest with a heavy weight. “I know what some people say about me behind my back.”

I’ve never wanted to punch something—or someone for that matter—more.

She holds her fist up and lifts her thumb. “Quiet. Bitter.” She ticks another finger. “Cold and stuck-up.” Her middle and ring fingers both rise. “The not-so-nice Martinez sister.” She wiggles her pinkie finger.

I grab her hand and interlock our fingers. “Enough of that.”

“What?” Her brows tug together. “You know it’s true.”

I shake my head. “What I know is that opinions are just that. Opinions, not facts. And frankly, anyone who thinks that about you sure as hell doesn’t deserve to have you prove them wrong.”

Catalina might keep her distance from others, but that doesn’t make her emotionless or bitter, and I hate myself for ever giving anyone’s incorrect assumption about her a single ounce of attention. Sure, a very small group of people around town have described her as withdrawn and disinterested in making connections with others, which usually doesn’t fare well in a small community, but I’m starting to realize Catalina likes people, she just doesn’t want to.

“Are they though? It’s not like I make an effort to have a ton of friends.”

“Why not?”

She takes so long to answer, I expect her not to, but then she surprises me when she says, “I’ve always been shier than Gabriela. More self-conscious and less likely to put myself out there, so people make their own assumptions about me.”

Tension builds at the base of my neck. “You know what they say about people who assume?”

Her cutting laugh makes me frown. “Yeah, well, I don’t try to prove them wrong either.”

“If they made an effort to get to know you—a real effort—they’d think differently.”

Her smile is sad. “Some people do try, but I’m not the easiest person to talk to. I’m not exactly…likable.”

“Bullshit.” My arm tightens around her until I can’t tell where my body ends and hers begins. “Being slow to warm up to people doesn’t make you unlikable. At least not to me.”

It’s obvious that Catalina isn’t stuck-up or rude like some people might assume based off one interaction, but rather, she is a shy, cautious person who dislikes the unknown.

She looks down at her lap again. “I guess.”

“I know. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve given me a chance.”

A small smile tugs at the edges of her mouth. “Really?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“And compete against you for the town’s biggest ego? I’ll pass.”

I glare, earning the best, softest laugh from Catalina in the process.

Over the next two hours, I collect similar sounds of contentment while we work on her speech. We both have a couple of drinks and swap stories about the happy couple until Catalina presses a hand against her stomach, claiming it hurts from laughing too much.

I tell her there is no such thing, and I plan on making her laugh loud and often for as long as I can before she needs to leave town for her next job.

If she chooses to go.

I haven’t considered an alternative option of Catalina wanting to stay. It might be a long shot, but maybe—just maybe—she would consider sticking around for a little while longer if she had a good reason to?

Like what? You?

The idea sounds ridiculous in my own head, but then again, I’m already looking forward to the next time I get to see her, and I haven’t even said good night yet, so is it really that outlandish of a thought?

Only if you don’t mind getting hurt in the process.

I shelve the negativity. Spending time with Catalina feels like the most natural thing in the world, and I don’t want to say goodbye at the end of the night. There is something about her that always keeps me coming back for more.

More time. More laughter. More of her.

Thankfully, we only made it through the first paragraph of her speech, so it looks like we will have to meet up tomorrow sometime during our shifts to continue working on it.

Convenient to say the least.

Driving Catalina home was a given after she nearly froze to death during her walk over to Nightcap. After spending the last couple of hours together, sharing stories about work, our friends, and the soon-to-be married couple, I’m reluctant to call it a night.

Catalina doesn’t comment on me taking the long way back to her parents’ house. Instead, I play a new album from an unknown artist we both bonded over, and we sing along to the song during the drive, with her hitting the pause button every few lines so we could analyze the lyrics together.

After one date, I feel more connected to Catalina than ever, and I’m already looking forward to our next one now that our night is coming to an end. I pull into her driveway, and our little bubble pops.

I ask her to wait while I head over to open her passenger door. The cold wind hits my face, but I hardly notice it as she slides out of my SUV with a smile.

“It gets colder every year.”

“You’re just not used to it anymore.” I shut the door behind her.

She turns to her parents’ house. I place my hand on the small of her back and follow her toward the front door, where she stops and fishes for the keys inside her purse.

My heart pounds against my chest, the beats rapid and out of sync as I wait.

“So.” I let the word hang as I rub the back of my neck.

Her eyes light up as she tracks the move. “What?”

“I know we talked about tomorrow, but…”

She is silent as the night surrounding us.

I continue, “I was wondering if…” I clearly can’t finish a sentence to save my life at the moment.

“Yes?” Her lips pull into a knowing smirk.

There is no way she is going to make this easy on me, so I decide to get this over with.

“Would you like to hang out? Outside of working on the speech again?”

She smirks. “As friends?”

I want to kiss the cute-as-hell look off her face, and I want to do it right now. We did not spend the last two hours together, flirting over drinks and stories of our lives, for me to be put in the friend zone.

Fuck that.

Catalina sucks in a sharp breath as I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and pull her against my chest. Her eyes drop to my mouth, and I take that as an invitation to do something I’ve been thinking about all night, since the moment she circled her arms around me under the guise of craving body heat.

I tilt my head and lean down, not closing my eyes until I see her do so first. Her soft lips part ever so slightly right before I press my mouth against hers for the first time. A sigh slips out of her as she pulls on the front of my coat and drags me closer, eliminating any space between our bodies.

The kiss is soft but electric, making my skin tingle with anticipation as she matches my enthusiasm with her own. My other arm swoops around her, securing her against my chest as she deepens the kiss, flooding my mouth with the taste of her.

After a few moments, I wrench myself away, my breaths heavy and my cock thickening with desire. “Does that answer your question?”

“Mm. I might need some further clarification.” She stands on the tips of her toes and seals her mouth over mine.

My head turns fuzzy with every second that passes, and I’m not sure how much time elapses, but I don’t care because the heat in my veins keeps me warm against the chill.

I thread my fingers through Catalina’s hair as her arms circle around the back of my neck, holding me close while we continue kissing.

I’m unaware of how long we stand in the cold, but it doesn’t matter. Heat floods my body, scorching a path from my chest directly toward my lower half that aches for her.

This is only a kiss, I try to remind myself.

Then why does it feel like so much more? a small voice in the back of my head speaks up.

The worst thing I can do to myself is get my hopes up over a woman who has no intention of sticking around, but then again, avoiding her doesn’t feel like an option anymore, especially when she makes me feel like this from a single kiss.

Even if it means I get hurt in the process.