Page 41 of Tied Up In Tinsel
Ruby giggled, bouncing on her toes again before spinning around. “And this is my mom. And that’s Brooks.” She pointed at him like she was presenting contestants on a game show.
“Santa,” Ruby continued. “I think Brooks should be on your nice list this year.”
“Is that so?” Santa asked.
She gave him a confident nod.
Santa’s eyes twinkled as they shifted to Brooks. “Ah, Brooks, is it? Big fellow, aren’t you? Looks likeyou’vebeen eating all the cookies I left out last year.”
Brooks chuckled, running a hand down the back of his neck. “Can’t help it if I like cookies.”
“Or the gym,” Santa muttered with a grin, eyeing the way Brooks’ flannel strained across his chest.
I nearly choked on a laugh, covering my mouth while Brooks gave Santa a look of mock exasperation. Ruby, of course, ate it up.
“Can he sit on your lap, too?” she asked sweetly, tugging at Santa’s sleeve.
Santa barked out a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “Well, I suppose I can try, but I might need a chiropractor afterward.”
“Come on, Brooks,” Ruby urged, tugging his hand. “Please? Just one picture. For me.”
Brooks glanced at me, his brows raised in silent question. He looked half mortified, half amused.
“Don’t you dare chicken out,” I whispered, grinning. “This is going in the Christmas album.”
With a groan, Brooks surrendered. He lowered himself carefully onto Santa’s knee—well,partially. He perched there awkwardly, all long legs and broad shoulders, making Santa look like he was about to collapse into the fake snowdrifts behind him.
The photographer was practically wheezing with laughter as Ruby hopped onto the other knee, beaming from ear to ear.
“Nowthis,” Santa said with a dramatic sigh, “is a full house. My knees may never forgive me.”
Click.
The flash went off just as Brooks ducked his head, embarrassed but laughing. His arm went instinctively aroundSanta, and the sight of the two of them together—her pure joy, his gentle smile—hit me square in the chest.
I felt it then, like someone had plugged in a string of lights deep inside me. Warmth spread through every inch, glowing brighter as Brooks glanced up, catching me staring.
“Come on, Annie.” Brooks waved me over.
“We need pictures with mom!”
I smiled, placing my purse on the ground before joining them for a round of photos. I stood next to Brooks. His free arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me close as I stood next to where he sat.
In gentle motions, he rubbed my hip, smiling straight.
I tried to keep my face level, calm on the outside even though my heart was betraying me.
Santa leaned in, his voice low but mischievous. “Careful, young lady,” he said, eyes flicking between Brooks and me. “You might just find more than one surprise under your tree this year.”
Brooks’ ears went pink. My cheeks burned. Ruby, oblivious, squealed when Santa jiggled his knees and made her bounce.
The camera flashed again, capturing a moment I knew I’d never forget.
Brooks
The scent of freshly brewed coffee curled through the quiet kitchen, wrapping the early morning in warmth. The light was soft, golden against the frosted windowpanes, and for a few blessed minutes, it felt like the world belonged only to me.
I always rose early, carving out this pocket of solitude before the day’s chaos set in. Still, the part I secretly craved was when Annie would wander in to join me. It had become our ritual—me brewing the coffee, setting a cup aside for her, and waiting for that smile that made the mornings brighter than any sunrise.
