Page 68 of Puppy Love & Snowflake Kisses
Belle clasped her hands together. “Which do you want: dessert or your present?”
Parker looked at her and arched a brow. “You mean I can’t have both?”
“Of course you can.” She felt flustered. “But which one do you want first?”
He pursed his lips as though he were struggling to make the decision. After a moment, he said, “I think we should open the gifts first. What do you think?”
She smiled. “It definitely sounds good to me.”
He took her hand in his and led her over to the couch. Once she was seated, he knelt down next to the Christmas tree. He picked up both gifts. He handed her the larger one.
Her palms grew damp. What if she hadn’t gotten him a big enough gift? Would he think she didn’t care enough about him? Because that was far from the truth.
Once he sat down, she said, “Open yours first.”
She lowered her gaze and bit her tongue to hold back apologies for it not being fancy enough. She should have kept looking for something bigger, fancier. When she lifted her gaze, he was already ripping off the paper, just like a kid. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
He lifted the lid on the box and moved aside the tissue paper. He stared at its contents for a moment. And then he dangled the ornament from his fingertip. “It’s Odie, right?”
He got it. Her nerves settled, and her smile broadened as she nodded her head. “It is. With you helping me—helping to get Odie home—I just thought we should commemorate this special Christmas.”
He lowered the ornament and looked at her. “I love it. And I will always remember this Christmas and the sweet puppy that brought us together.” His gaze moved to the package on her lap. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Odie jumped up beside her and attempted to bite the package. Parker picked him up and put him in his lap. While Parker pet Odie, she carefully slipped her finger beneath one of the folds and gently pulled. She did it again until the flap of paper was loose. And then she turned the package to repeat the process.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She didn’t understand the question. She hesitated. “I’m opening the present.”
“By the time you get done, I’m going to be retired.”
She frowned at him. “The paper is so pretty. I don’t want to ruin it.”
“Would you give it a yank already? It’s wrapping paper. It’s meant to be ripped and crumpled up. It’s not like you’re going to save it.”
She stopped unwrapping it and arched a brow at him. “How do you know?”
“Know what?”
“That I’m not going to keep the wrapping paper.”
He paused and studied her. “I can’t tell if you’re serious or just giving me a hard time.”
“Maybe I like to save wrapping paper and reuse it.”
His brows rose. “I…uh, had no idea.”
It was her turn to smile. “I’m just giving you a hard time.”
He blew out a breath. “You had me for a minute.”
She didn’t say it, but she was going to keep just a small piece of the paper. She wanted to remember this Christmas. It was a very special one.
Her fingers moved faster, loosening the paper. And then she set aside the paper. The box was made of plain cardboard with no markings—nothing to tell her what might be inside.
The top had been sealed with packing tape. Using her fingernails, she worked loose the end of the tape. When she had enough loose, she grabbed it and yanked.
With the tape off, the flaps opened, and she peered inside at a bunch of… Wait. Was that a white towel?
