Page 147 of Snowed In
“That’s it?”
“Christian told me to stall.” He moves to the side before I can ask him what he’s talking about and motions me out with a grand sweep of his arm.
I pull my hood up against the cold and hurry down the steps, rounding the house just as Christian does. I almost walk straight into him.
“What are you—”
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“Not yet,” he repeats. He takes me by the arms, walking me backward as he looks to Aidan, who’s still waiting by the door. “I asked you to—”
“You try telling her what to do,” he calls. “See how far you get.”
He tsks. “Two seconds,” he says to me and returns to the car, emerging with a black thermal flask.
“Hot chocolate,” he explains, handing it over. “Molly says it’s her special recipe.”
“Special usually means it’s spiked.”
“I think she just adds cinnamon. I also got you this.” He holds up a simple silver chain. “Happy Christmas.”
I smile at him, taking it carefully between my fingers. “You drove over just to give me my present?”
“No. You cold?”
“Could be warmer.”
He nods like that’s the right answer. “Then right this way.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, hurrying to keep up as he brings me around the side again.
“It’s a surprise. A big one.”
“The last time you had a big surprise, you took me to see taxidermy, and I don’t— what the…” I trail off, gaping as he brings us to a stop.
The side of my house is no longer just the side of my house. It’s a wonderland.
The projector sits behind us, playingHome Aloneagainst the wall. Strings of fairy lights bracket the screen, but the real star of the show is the small bonfire set up in front, the flames flickering brightly inside a large ring of stones. Chairs of various shapes and sizes all face it, each one draped with blankets and cushions and hot water bottles to keep out the chill.
It’s like something out of a movie.
“You said this is what you looked forward to most,” he says when I stare at it. “So I wanted to make it extra special this year.”
“I love it,” I say. “It’s gorgeous, Christian, but you didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“It’s a gesture,” he says as if that explains everything.
“And why are there so many chairs?”
“I invited both our families to join. Just later.”
“Later?”
“I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Okay…” He tugs at my hand, and I drag my attention from the movie on the wall as he leads me closer to the fire. “Oh, you know what we should do? We should get —”
