Page 63 of My Dearest Mackenzie

Judging by the furrow in Mack’s brow, he was struck with it too. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Moving away, turning my back toward him and sucking in my emotions, I took a long breath.

All this more talk, teasing and taunting, joking…and I was making a fool of myself. “Of course you didn’t. Just like I didn’t mean ‘then comes marriage.’ We were both caught up in the moment. Let’s leave it be.”

Giving us both an out, I felt relief as I made my way back to the man who had stolen my heart without trying. Kissing his pec, allowing my lips to linger, I thought about all that just flew out of our mouths.

“I know that’s a lot to unpack, so why don’t we start with a tree and a menorah. Some simple fun,” Mack suggested, reading my mind.

I felt my head nodding against his warm skin. “Perfect,” I said and meant it. I was happy for the reprieve.

In my mind, there was a lot rumbling around and too many questions. But the idea of a tree and a menorah was kind of interesting… I hadn’t thought about what Christmas signified to me since losing Jeremy and the baby, other than a busy and fruitful time at work. I also never considered leaving my apartment or what that would say about me.

“It’s a nice place. Mine, I mean,” I blurted out a few minutes later, after we had retreated to refill our coffee mugs.

“It is,” Mack agreed.

I stated the obvious. “This is nicer.”

“It’s bigger, that’s all. Look, we can table this talk for another time. I was thinking aloud and prematurely.”

A grin spread across his face, hitting the corner of his eyes, and it was another reason why I was falling for Mackenzie Miller. He knew how to read a room and gave me an easy escape.

“So, a tree? Real or fake?” The man in my mind changed the subject again.

“Are you sure? I mean, Christmas was mostly magical when I was a kid, but now it’s a hectic time at work for both of us and not much more than a beautiful escape in the city.”

“I’m sure. I haven’t lit the menorah with someone else, other than my aunt Susie, in a long while. Now tell me, what do you usually get? Real or fake?”

Running a hand through my hair, I took a beat to gather my emotions. This was all coming so fast—

Blowing out a breath, I answered softly. “I usually get one of those little real ones, for the corner…of my place.”

“Real one it is. But big and bold.”

“Baruch atah…”

“Baruh atah.” I repeated the prayer with Mack.

“Chhhh, like a rumble in the back of your throat.” He desperately tried to help me make the correct sound.

“You sound like you’re gargling mouthwash,” I couldn’t help but blurt out.

“I see you’re getting it,” he joked right back before kissing my cheek.

As we continued to say the prayer, Mack lit the first candle in the menorah. He had it set on a glass tray facing the window as soft jazz spilled out of his speakers.

“Thank you,” I told Mack, taking his hand. “That was beautiful.”

“No, thank you for doing that with me, and for picking the biggest, baddest tree in New York.”

“Of course I chose a biggie…you told me to.”

The tree place had delivered the giant fir within hours, which I knew cost a premium. Mack had offered to have it professionally decorated, but I’d insisted on stopping at my place and grabbing a few boxes of ornaments I had stashed under the bed. Together, we’d placed the mementos on the tree, and then I got it in my mind we needed the big, multicolored lights.

“Give me a second,” Mack had said. In a few minutes he was back, letting me know a late lunch was on its way along with lights.

“Corey?” I’d asked.

---