Page 448 of The Parkers' Handsome Holiday
“Maybe,” I said.
I’d never thought too much about having a family of my own. It had always felt like something other people could have, but me? It had always been easier for me to picture myself as a lone wolf as I grew older rather than a family man.
I cleared my throat and released her hand. “What do you say we put that pizza in the oven?”
CHAPTER 17
TINSELY
The margherita pizza sat on a cutting board on the coffee table in the pit while Chadwick and I put the last decorations on the tree. My fingers were sticky from the needles and a bit cut up from wrapping the lights, but it was well worth it when we stood back and turned the tree on.
It lit up with warm twinkling white lights. Chadwick had turned all the lights out in the house, so only the tree and fire glowed, and with the snow still falling outside it felt truly magical to stand back and see that the efforts of all our hard work had paid off.
“This was a good idea,” I said.
“Merry Christmas, Tinsely.”
“Merry Christmas, Chadwick.”
Neither of us moved for a while. We stood gazing at the tree like it was the first time we’d seen one. I could remember how Christmas used to look when I was a young girl—how the simple things that seemed so mundane and ordinary now felt so big and grand to my littler self.
“I used to lay under my family Christmas tree after it went up for hours,” I said, smiling as I remembered the time my father joined me, clasped his hands on his round stomach, and asked me what I saw. I’d told him I saw a hundred worlds up in the branches of multicolored lights and ornaments. I wondered what he’d seen and if he missed how Christmas looked through his eyes when he was a boy. “It’s one of the better memories I have with my dad.”
Chadwick watched me out of the corner of his eyes. “I used to do that too but not with my old man. I used to drag the family cat under the tree and then my mother would lose her mind because the cat would try to climb the tree. Many ornaments faced terrible deaths because of that cat.”
I laughed. “What was the cat’s name?”
“Mittens.”
“How original.”
“I named him when I was eight,” Chadwick explained.
“I had a pet hamster named Hemmingway when I was eight.”
“Well, aren’t you special.” He chuckled.
“Clearly I was a smarter child than you.”
“Even I’m not cocky enough to claim otherwise.”
“You’ve really grown. How humble of you.”
“You’re rubbing off on me, Tinsel.”
I giggled and turned my back on the tree so I could look up at him. “And here I was thinking nothing was powerful enough to tone down all the male bravado you wear like a second skin. Does this mean I get another raise?”
“I’ll throw a ten-dollar gift card your way once a week for lunch. You’re welcome.”
“I’m such a lucky girl.”
He smirked, and the way the shadows struck his face in contrast to the flickering of the lights made my stomach flutter. I hadn’t noticed how prominent his brow was, how strong his jaw looked, and how sharp and angled all his features were. His eyelashes were thick and long, painting more shadows across his cheekbones, and he had a nice five o’clock shadow coming in that dared me to run my fingers over it.
I swallowed. Not again.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Tinsely Miller?”
My mouth went dry, and the tips of my fingers started to buzz like an electrical current coursed through all my nerve endings. Feeling suddenly lightheaded, I took a deep breath. “Nothing. What are you thinking about?”
