Page 49 of Take Me Home for Christmas

“A romance. They’re full of hope, and I love that.” She gave me a tentative look. “Have you ever read one?”

“Does Sarah J. Maas’s ACOTAR count?”

She stopped walking. “You’vereadSarah J. Maas? I love her.”

I gave a chuckle. “Would you be into me more if I said yes?”

She burst out in laughter, shaking her head. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to be any more into you than I already am.”

Her answer made my heart slam into my chest. I took her hand. It was soft and small compared to my big paws and a little cool to the touch. I kissed it lightly and looked up at her. My throat felt tight, and I had to clear my throat to get my words out. “I’m really into you too.” Her smile told me everything I needed to know. That I was in big trouble. The best kind. “Tell you what,” I said as we moved on. “You write your book, and I’ll read it.”

She grinned. “Deal.”

We came to a shop called Ye Olde Trading Post. In the window, I saw a mix of gifts of all kinds—candles, beautiful wooden cutting boards stained like checkerboards, small oil paintings by local artists. “Can we go in here? I’d like to get a gift for your parents.” And for her, but I had no idea what.

Her brows creased into a frown. “You know that’s not necessary. Just giving your time to come here with me?—”

“Was something I really wanted to do.” Then I opened the door, and we walked inside.

The shop smelled like wood and was filled with fun handmade items like serving spoons, wine racks, and nativity sets. I could’ve stayed and admired the artistry there all day. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a display of snow globes. Hmm. Duly noted.

Mia inhaled deeply. With a twinkle in her eye, she said, “I love this smell. What do you think?”

At that moment, her hair was lit up with golden highlights under the overhead bulbs, and her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and despite all the stress of the past weeks, she looked happy.

And that happiness just might’ve been infectious. So I inhaled deeply too. “Nice. Fresh wood. Lemon oil. Shavings.”

“Exactly.” She looked at me sideways. “Are you okay? You don’t have to pretend to like shopping, you know.”

I smiled, because while I didn’t care much for shopping, I loved being here with her. “Just wondering if you would help me pick out some gifts for your family.”

“You don’t need to do that.” She noticed a display of beautiful handmade cutting boards. “But now that I’m looking, I know my dad really, really wants one of these.”

I looked where she was pointing. “A charcuterie board?”

Mia nodded. “My mom monitors the amount of cholesterol he consumes. But ever since he tasted prosciutto, she can’t keep him away from it.”

We started sorting through the various sizes. “Which size do you think we should get? Like, how much prosciutto does he eat?”

“More than he should, good point. How about a smaller one?” She chose one while I spotted a set of hand-carved wooden measuring spoons and snagged them.

“For my mom?”

I nodded. “For your mom.”

For the boys—I meant the oak trees—Mia helped me choose hand-forged chef knives, since she said they enjoyed cooking, even though I had reservations about purchasing any sharp implements that could be used against me. For Dina, I bought a soft, hand-knitted wool scarf that Mia assured me was fashion-forward.

We moved on to a mug display. Mia picked up a cheesy one that saidBest Mom Everwith reindeer antlers.

“Can I ask you something personal?” I asked.

She held up another one that had chickens standing together, all dressed in Christmas hats. “Sure.”

“How was it with Charlie?”

She stopped browsing and frowned. “How was what, exactly?”

“Just—everything. The relationship, how you got along.” I knew that the last thing she wanted to talk about was Charlie. But maybe she needed to, you know? Besides, she got me to open up. I figured some payback was in order.

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