Page 36 of Yule Know It When You See It
Her emerald eyes blink as she notices the lake in the direction she almost mistakenly took. “I reallyamexcited about this.”
“There’s a lot to be excited for lately,” I say, dropping my tone and turning her to face me. Bending, I press a light kiss at the corner of her lips.
“To quote one of my favorite Christmas movies,Elf—you missed.” Theo positively beams at me, fingers plucking at her coat’s hem.
Aside from the “Son of a Nutcracker” quote, all others escape me from that film. But it could also be most of my blood leaving my brain for regions further…down.
“What?” I ask with a chuckle, bumping a knuckle under her chin.
She taps a finger against the center of her lips. “You. Missed.”
It’s official. I’m an idiot.
Grinning, I press my lips to hers,entirelyon hers, but try to turn it into a kiss. Instead, I trap her within my arms, and mouths still connected; I say from the corner of mine, “This better?” It comes out ridiculous and muffled but has her laughing hysterically.
Coyly, she pushes at my chest, still giggling. “My nose is stuffy, and I can’t breathe,” she squeals out, and after I peel away, she gives my cheek a tiny peck.
* * *
Moments later, we’re back in the office. Everyone has long since gone home for the night, and the space is blissfully quiet. Darkness blankets every corner save for the tree lit up in the center, spilling multi-color bursts of warm light over our desks. I move for the light switches, ready to flick one on, but Theo’s tender hand rests on my forearm, stopping me.
“I love it like this. It makes me feel calm and all gooey on the inside.” Theo’s smiling but staring at the tree versus looking at me.
I can think of a few other things that would make her feel similarly.
“It does paint a certain level of serenity. Quiet space that’s normally bustling with activity and chatter.” I take her hand, leading us to my desk. where I sit with spread legs, guiding her between them. “This lighting is a million times better than the gaudy headache-inducing fluorescents.”
She rests her hands on my thighs, nodding and still stealing glances at the tree over my shoulder. “There’s also a bit of nostalgia attached to it for me, I guess.”
When I say nothing but quirk a brow, she continues.
“As a kid, before presents started taking up all the space on the tree skirt, I used to lie underneath it, staring up through the branches for way longer than should entertain a kid.” A bittersweet laugh bumbles from her throat, and she squeezes my leg. “It’s just so sparkly and glowing and a unique way to view it.”
Moving to America with my family’s traditions around the holidays held firmly in my heart made it difficult to connect with anyone else,trulyclick, when I couldn’t make it home to Norway. There were few I’d even dare to confess to for fear of insulting someone or causing some misunderstanding. But for whatever reason, I feel comfortable around Theo. Like she wouldn’t give a damn how I celebrated, she’d simply be elated that I enjoy this time of year as much as she did.
“What does Theo Hackett do normally around the holidays?” I slide my palms up her sides until my hands grip her hips. “Christmas Eve mass? Watch a Nativity scene play?”
“I did all that stuff when I was younger, sure.”
I drum my fingers on her waist. “But not anymore?”
“This is going to sound awful but once I moved out of my parents’ house and out on my own, started my writing career, we started seeing each other less and less. They were always afraid of bothering me or interrupting me and I became so consumed with work I’d honestly forget how long it’d been since I saw them.”
“Children change. We’re not supposed to be carbon copies of our parents. We’re meant to become ourownpeople.” I graze the back of my hand over her cheek, frowning at the way her chin quivers with obvious guilt.
“But I’m an only child. I’m all they’ve got.”
“They have each other too, Theo. That’s why they said those vows.”
She sniffles and shrugs. “True. Hence why once they retired, they started to go to Fiji every year for Christmas. Particularly, when I gave them my blessing because we can see each other and celebrate any time of the year. They deserve to enjoy themselves while they still can in whatever way makes them happy.”
“There you go. Anyone who started this whole deal that youmustsee family on the holidays or you’re some kind of bad person or something, is off the mark in my humblest opinion.” I knead her skin through her shirt with the tips of my fingers. “For what? To be stressed and possibly argue and feel obligated to get everyone a gift? It’s taking away what makes it special in the first place.”
Theo’s eyes light up and she bites the inside of her cheek, gaze casting to the floor instead of me or the tree. Her eyes pinch shut, and she lifts her hands to my shoulders, suddenly blowing out a breath. I am a six-year-old boy about to be told Santa Claus isn’t real.
“I want to tell you something I’ve never told anyone else, but I’m terrified you’ll take it wrong.” Theo still doesn’t look at me, her fingernails flicking the seam of my pants.
I scootch from the desk, basking in her bewildered expression as I take her hand and lead her toward the tree. “Let’s go to your happy place first, then. Because I can promise you there are very few things, if any, you can tell me that I’d take offensively.”
