Page 36 of 'Tis the season of Wicked Deeds

We pull back when his grandfather clears his throat and I find him, as well as his wife, studying us with matching expressions that say they’re up to no good.

“What are your plans for tomorrow, Twinkle?” asks Kingston’s grandfather.

“Sightseeing.”

“And in the evening?” probes Nana. “Surely you aren’t thinking of spending Christmas alone in your room?”

“I might go shopping at the local vintage market and video call back home.”

“Absolutely not. You can do that any other day.” Flicking her determined gaze to Kingston, she orders sternly, “You’ll bring her here to celebrate with us.”

“Of course I am, Nana. It was always the plan.”

“But, Nana…”

“Here we go,” sighs Kingston.

I elbow him hard. The bastard just laughs. “I don’t want to impose. Besides, I traveled here on my own, so being alone was a given.”

“Oh shush, plans change.”

“We’d love to have you, Twinkle,” urges Kingston’s grandfather. “Just say yes.”

Kingston tugs my hair playfully and gives me puppy dog eyes, which shouldn’t be possible, given how rugged he is. Yet he manages and suckers me in. “Okay. I’ll be here.”

Kingston bends and kisses my cheek. His breath skates across my ear as he whispers, “Thank you, darling.”

Silly man, I should be thanking him.

“That’s settled,” announces Nana and she claps her hands. “It’s finally time for the reveal. Everyone must be waiting outside. Let’s go.”

As we all stand up to pile outside, I hook my arm around Kingston’s elbow and ask, “Did you help decorate the window?”

“I used to when I was a kid. Now, I contribute by buying the things Nana needs to do it with gramps.” A cheeky smile lights up his face as he shares, “They also banned me from decorating because one year, it looked like it was more appropriate for Halloween rather than Christmas.”

“So, you used to raise hell as a kid?” I tease.

“What fourteen-year-old boy doesn’t?” He shrugs. “What about you? Did you do any shenanigans during the holidays?”

I glance away as bittersweet memories surface. “Christmas at my home used to be amazing until my parents got a divorce.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, pulling me tighter against him.

“It’s okay.” I return a shaky smile. “It happened a long time ago.”

“Are you close with your parents?”

“No. They’re more like strangers now. I call them once in a while but I feel like I’m disturbing them, so I stopped.”

His body tenses, as though hurt and angry on my behalf. “It’s their loss, Twinkle.”

“That’s what Tina says too.”

“She’s right.” His tone is deadly serious. Tilting my chin, he says, “And it’s not your responsibility to check in on your parents all the time. It goes both ways and they most certainly shouldn’t make you feel like you’re annoying or disturbing them.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

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