Page 86 of Never Sleigh Never
Her smile is wicked. “Behave. Tour first, bribery later. But for now, this is my North Pole themed tree.” She waves her hand over the tree perched in the corner of the room. “It’s decorated with ornaments featuring stockings, Santa, and reindeer.”
I inspect the various ornaments scattered over the tree. My gaze snags on one of Santa sitting in a big red chair with a list in his hand. “So Santa really does watch you while you sleep.”
“Obviously.” She wiggles her brows.
“Tell me—have you been naughty or nice?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I slide behind her, pressing a kiss to her neck. “I’d bet on naughty. Probably while thinking of me.”
Her laugh shivers against me, but she points back at Santa. “Careful. He’s watching.”
“Good thing Santa’s into voyeurism.”
She swats my chest, still laughing. “Later. There’s one more tree left on the tour.” She escorts me out of her bedroom and down the hall to another room. “This one’s not as extravagant. It’s more of a hodgepodge of all my other leftover ornaments.”
Another tree sits in the corner, but my attention veers left. “Forget the tree. What is this?” I slip out of Brie’s grasp and stalk toward a row of tables covered in porcelain buildings, tiny streetlamps, and enough fake snow to bury a small country. “Is this how you’re planning world domination—one miniature city at a time?”
She laughs. “No. It’s just a small hobby of mine.”
“This isn’t a hobby. This is a holiday takeover.” I lean down, squinting at the little figurines.
“Just wait.”
She moves to the opposite side of the display and flips a switch. The whole village hums to life—buildings glowing, streetlamps flickering, skaters gliding in endless loops across a frozen pond. My jaw drops.
“Hold up.” I point at a square building with Hardware Store painted across the front. A few figurines down—Coffee Shop. Then, at the end of Main Street, the town square and a rink suspiciously like the one we just left. My eyes widen. “Wait. This isn’t just a village. This is Mount Holly. You’ve built a replica of the town.”
Her gaze flicks to the table as she fiddles with a tiny Santa figurine. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s all right here.” One by one, I point to the buildings. “You have the hardware store, the coffee shop, the diner. There’s a tea shop.”
“We don’t have one of those in Mount Holly.”
“Yeah, that’s because they probably don’t make miniature bars. That’s exactly where the Crooked Reindeer is.”
“Alright, that’s enough. No more analyzing my Christmas village. Isn’t there a hockey game on? We should go watch it.”
I laugh. “Trying to use hockey as a diversion?”
“It’s not as fun as watching you play, but yeah.” She links her fingers with mine and drags me back to the living room.
“Wait—you watched me?”
“I begrudgingly stared at the TV while you skated around showing off.”
“Good to know.”
The warmth in my chest spreads. Maybe she didn’t hate me as much as she wanted me to believe. I drop onto the couch and open an arm. She hesitates a beat before curling against me, soft and warm.
“We’ve come a long way,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her temple. “No more hating each other.”
She aims the remote at the TV. “I kind of miss hating you. This,” she waves between us, “feels unnatural.”
“Get used to it. It’s our new normal.”
Her mouth curves, and she kisses me. I kiss her back—until a blur of motion on the screen catches my eye. Jason Malone, the right winger for Chicago, propels himself down the ice. He’s always had killer speed and an even more wicked slapshot. Malone is one-on-one with Florida’s goalie. He dekes him and sends the puck into the net. “Yes!”
