Page 64 of How He Got the Girl
“So do I.” I look right at Mallory as the words spill out of my mouth, like they can’t be contained any longer. When I realize I practically just told Mallory I love her, the box of decorations slips from my hands, dropping to the floor with a loud thunk. Some jingle bells shake with the movement. I turn awkwardly in a half circle, moving my arms in strange motions that feel completely disconnected from my body.
What. Is. Wrong. With. Me?
Oh, right. I just accidentally told Mallory that I love her.
I glance at her and find her shoulders shaking lightly in laughter. Of course, she finds this funny. But I do spot a hint of pink in her cheeks, which gives me hope for the conversation she wants to have soon.
Granny watches us with a knowing smile. I’m pretty sure spotting love matches is her superpower. Maybe she missed her calling as a matchmaker, or maybe it’s just the magic ofLover’s Grove running in her veins. But even if Granny didn’t think we were dating, I know she would see my feelings for Mallory written all over my face.
“If I could walk on my own, I’d give you two the room.” She winks at Mallory, whose blush deepens.
“Granny,” I chide.
“What?” She holds her hand to her chest, feigning nonchalance. “I might be old, but I still remember what it’s like to be in that honeymoon phase of a relationship. I bet you can’t keep your hands off one another.”
I shake my head, ignoring her remarks. You can always count on kids and the elderly to be honest. “Let’s decorate, shall we?” I open the box, pull out the tree base, and get that set up with water. Mallory pulls out the garland and strings it around the room.
“Where did you get all this?” Granny wrings her hands in her lap. “I’d hate for you to have spent all this money on decorations.”
“Her mom, Angie, was kind enough to let you borrow them,” I say, shooting Mallory a smile across the room.
Granny places her hands on her cheeks. “I can’t wait to thank her properly at Christmas. For this, and for having us join in your family’s festivities.”
“The more the merrier.” Mallory finishes hanging the garland and moves back to the box, grabbing small holiday trinkets. “Would you like these to go anywhere specific?”
“Hmm,” Granny muses. “Maybe a few on the table here and the others on my nightstand?”
“You’ve got it.” She places a snowman and reindeer on the table before moving to the other room.
“I love her.”
“You already said that.” I laugh.
“It’s worth saying twice.” Granny sighs. “It does my heart a world of good seeing you this happy.”
Mallory walks back into the living room, humming “Deck the Halls.”
It’s been torture knowing that our relationship has been fake to Mallory so far, but these recent changes in her have me hoping that won’t be the case much longer.
AMichaelBublésongplays over a speaker as I walk through my parents’ front door, my arm linked through Granny’s. I hold it open for Griffin as he carries in our luggage. His sweater is rolled up to his elbows, giving me a front-row view of the bulging muscles and veins in his forearms.
There must be some scientific reason behind why this man makes everything he does look so attractive. Maybe there’s a law of attraction from carrying heavy items that I haven’t heard of yet.
“They’re here.” My mom rounds the corner, heading into the foyer. She pulls Griffin’s granny into a hug first. “I’m Angie. We’re beyond happy to have you.”
“I’m tickled pink to be here and meet Mallory’s family.” She pulls back, patting my mom’s hand. “You can call me Granny. Everyone does.”
Introductions are made between her and my dad before he helps her into the living room to sit. On the ride here, Griffin said she’s been getting up a little more for her physical therapy, but still needs to be careful not to overdo it.
“Where should I put these?” Griffin lifts the luggage slightly.
“We have your granny staying in our guest room here on the main floor with an attached bathroom.” Mom motions down the hallway to the left. “I thought that would be easiest for her after her surgery.”
Griffin heads that way to drop off her things, and I’m pulled into my mom’s warm embrace.
“Happy Christmas Eve, sweetie.”
I return the sentiments, then ask, “What room is Griffin staying in?”
