Page 44 of A Holly Brown Christmas
He had been staying with her since the night before Thanksgiving, and while she thought it would be weird having him in her house for that many days, she was actually loving it.
The temperatures had dropped, and outside, snow was gently falling, making it the perfect time to put up her Christmas tree. Inside, however, the living room smelled like cinnamon and pine, and soft holiday music played from a speaker on the mantle. Her tall Christmas tree stood half-dressed in the corner—the lights were already strung, but the ornaments were still scattered across the floor. Shmoop was unimpressed with the entire process and was snoring loudly in his bed.
Lucas was crouched beside one of the boxes, holding up a crooked, glittery reindeer. His slightly amused expression spoke volumes. “This guy’s seen things.”
Holly grabbed it from him, feigning offense. “Hey, that’s Harold and he’s vintage. Be nice.”
“Harold has one eye and sparkles like he went through a glitter explosion.”
“Exactly, and he’s fabulous.” She lovingly reached up on her tiptoes to hang Harold near the top of the tree. Once he was settled, she turned to find Lucas watching her. There was something in his expression—it was tender and thoughtful—before he got up and walked over to her. His hands lightly rested on her waist
"You were wobbling."
"I was reaching. Big difference." She adjusted the ornament before spinning around in his arms, an impish grin tugging at her lips.
He grinned. “My mistake.”
"Okay, it’s your turn to pick an ornament to place on the tree. Something equally iconic, please."
“I’m sorry. What?”
“That’s the tradition. Everyone takes turns putting ornaments on the tree. I just hung Harold, so now it’s your turn. Didn’t you ever…?” Then she stopped herself because she remembered his sad story about leaving for school with the house was undecorated and then coming home and everything was done.
“Hmm…let’s see what we’ve got here.”
Her collection of ornaments was a bit eclectic. Anytime she traveled, she’d buy a Christmas ornament. Every one of them that hung on the tree had a story. Some funny, some sentimental, some just because she liked the look of them. But as Lucas sifted through the ornaments, she wondered what he thought of them.
She watched as he paused and then held up a plastic taco with a tiny Santa hat on it. Shaking her head, she laughed. "You wouldn’t."
"Oh, I would."
“But…but…that’s not a prime or iconic ornament! There are so many other fabulous ones to choose from!”
With his eyes never leaving hers, he stood and carefully hung that silly taco right next to her porcelain angel, looking absurdly proud of himself. "There. Balance. Beauty and beef."
She groaned, but was secretly amused. “Okay, my turn. Now watch and learn.” As she turned to grab another ornament, Lucas moved behind the tree, and suddenly popped his head out from the branches like a mischievous elf.
Startled, she laughed. "What are you doing?"
"I live here now. Among the ornaments."
This playful side of him was a complete surprise, and she was loving it. Still laughing, she said, "Oh my goodness, get out of my tree!" Moving around to the back where he was, she swatted at him with a strand of silver garland, but he caught it and wrapped it gently around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “You are utterly ridiculous.”
"Hey, you’re the one who invited me to decorate."
"Yes. Decorate! Not inhabit the tree."
They were face to face now, her hands still tangled in the garland, his nose brushing hers. The playful energy simmered into something softer as the moment stretched. The twinkling lights bathed them in a warm, golden glow. The only thing that would have made it more perfect was if they were standing under some mistletoe.
Note to self: Buy some mistletoe!
"You’re beautiful, you know. Especially when you’re bossing me around with ornaments."
“Aww…” She felt herself blushing. “It’s one of my many gifts.”
He leaned in and kissed her—slow, sweet, wrapped in garland and the pine-scented air—while Harold and the taco looked on approvingly from the tree.
When they finally parted, she playfully nudged him lightly. "Sorry, but…you’re still not putting the taco on the front of the tree. He’s a back-of-the-tree kind of thing."
