Page 81 of Stay this Christmas
“Then it’s a d—” She seemed to choke on the word and went back to stuffing lights in the tree. “That’s settled, then.”
“You can call it a date, Harps,” I said low. “I’d like it to be one.”
She met my eyes again and, to my delight, some of her sauciness had returned, along with a sheer wash of color on her cheeks.
“Seems a little quick, going on an overnight for our first date.”
The fact that she hadn’t argued about semantics set off a whirlwind in my chest, excitement and a spike of nervousness buffeting around in there. Plus, every time she saidovernight,my stomach tightened as I pictured our accommodations.
“We had that dinner where I saved you from a waitress whose only crime was wanting to bless your heart. Does that count as a first date?”
Her laughter wrapped around me like a perfect hug.
“I guess it does.”
She finished arranging the lights and plugged them in. Stepping back from her work, I had to admit her efforts had been worth it.
“You’re right, this does look more natural.”
Nudging me with her shoulder, she grinned and knelt down to rifle through the bins. “Now we put the ornaments up.”
She hummed along to the Christmas songs that streamed through her phone as she carefully selected and placed each ornament. I helped, but I loved watching her. Like the way she’d strung up the lights, I just enjoyed seeing her doing something that made her happy.
A couple of weeks ago, I hadn’t thought I’d actually have a good time decorating a tree again. For so long, the activity had called to mind Mom and Dad’s huge, fake smiles when we decorated our last Christmas tree, playing make believe at family togetherness they knew wouldn’t last. I hadn’t wanted to be near a tree, real or fake, since then.
But here I was, smiling to myself as I arranged a string of burlap stars on the branches of a tree I’d cut down myself. I’d resented the falseness and deception of Christmas for years, but there was nothing insincere about this moment with Harper. It was perfect and pure, and more than anything, I wanted to stay like this as long as I could.
Maybe I’d caught a little bit of her Christmas spirit, after all.
TWENTY-FIVE
sam
Wednesday night,I’d followed Harper’s instructions, and wore my most comfortable shoes, jeans, and a button-down. Hadn’t figured out yet how my clothing choices had anything to do with her facing a fear, but I was up for whatever.
“In a quarter mile, turn left.”
I did as the GPS instructed, having zero clue where I was headed in the darkness. Harper sat beside me in the passenger seat, similarly attired, but she’d kept mum about our destination.
“Why are you keeping it a secret? I’m going to find out soon enough.”
She hitched a saucy shoulder. “It’s more fun this way.”
Couldn’t deny that. To tell the truth, driving to locales unknown had always given me a certain thrill. Several of our dates in high school had involved her feeding me directions while I drove, waiting to see where we’d wind up. Still, the question of just what fear she wanted to face had me racking my brain. It couldn’t be far outside of Magnolia Ridge, and we’d put on western wear for the occasion.
Yeah, no, I had nothing. Seemed like a helmet or a parachute would make more sense for facing a fear.
“No hints?”
She grinned at me. “We’re almost there.”
“In one thousand feet, your destination will be on the left.”
I squinted in front of us in the dark, trying to spot anything that could make sense as where we’d face Harper’s fear. But there was nothing out here except dirt roads and a fairly crowded—
“Harper.” Couldn’t keep the dread out of my voice. “This?”
I slowed and pulled into the roadside honky tonk’s massive lot beneath a blazing neon sign that read Fool Hearted Memory. Two neon blue cowboy boots flickered back and forth, clicking their heels next to the bar’s name. Even at this distance, the twang of a country song barreled through the doors to invade my car.
