Page 24 of Hostile for the Holidays

“Jasper,” I admonish, but I’m not quite sure why. It’s kind of sweet that he is so blatantly protective of me. Also, it’s making my insides flutter.

“What?” he asks, pulling off his coat and hanging it in the closet.

“I can’t believe you said that.”

“I can’t believe I walked in here and he had his hands all over you.”

“He caught me when I fell off the ladder. It might have looked odd, but it was innocent.”

Jasper’s brows lift. “And he was shirtless?”

I scrunch my nose. “Yeah, that part was weird.”

You know what else was odd? How turned on I got at the sight of Jasper jealous. Or at least pretending to be jealous. Since he’s my fake boyfriend and it wouldn’t have been very convincing to Daniel if Jasper had no issue with him being shirtless with his arms wrapped around me.

The absurdity of the situation hits me and I can’t contain my laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Jasper asks.

“You. Daniel. The whole situation. I’d say I’m impressed that you managed to play the jealous boyfriend. Maybe your acting skills are better than I thought.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just stands there looking at me like I exasperate him.

“You don’t have to stay and help me decorate. I think Daniel got the point.”

“I’m staying.”

“Fine. You can finish up the lights, while I get the ornaments ready.”

Jasper resets the ladder, and gets to work on hanging the lights on the tree while I open the ornament bin.

Seeing the familiar ornaments peeking up from the soft packing tissue has my face lighting up. All our family ornaments have a name and a year written on the bottom. There are ones from my parents’ childhood, then a few from their newlywed years before Sadie’s and my collection took over the bulk of them.

Carefully, I take out each one, setting them gently on the coffee table.

There, at the bottom, I pull out a familiar clay snowflake and a rush of nostalgia hits me.

The clay is shaped into six lumpy branches each with a design of dots, lines, and swirls carved into them by toothpick. The original white clay is covered mostly in an icy blue paint with a bit of the white edges remaining, and after twenty years, the silver glitter that once was plentiful is diminishing. A sparkly silver ribbon hangs from the top of the ornament. It’s the craftsmanship of a second grader, but even all these years later, I can see the care that went into it.

It’s the ornament Jasper gave me the first Christmas after his family moved to Cedar Hollow.

I turn it over. The unfinished back of the snowflake claims what it always has in wobbly penmanship.

For Stella. You’re cool like this snowflake. Jasper.

My eyes shift to the man hanging lights on my family’s Christmas tree. His thick, coppery-brown hair. The way his jeans hug his ass perfectly.

Jasper turns to find me staring.

“The lights are done. You ready for ornaments?” he asks.

EIGHT

JASPER

When I turnaround to tell Stella the lights are on, she’s staring at me with a far off look in her eyes.

“The lights are done. You ready for ornaments?” I ask.

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