Page 13 of Holiday Situationship

“I’ve heard their Santa is the real deal. Some say there’s actual magic at play on the farm.” Ryan chuckles and gives Julia a peck on the temple. “Make your wishes to Santa count. No sense in tempting fate.”

“Oh, we’re much too old for Santa’s lap,” Julia snickers.

“But you’re not too old for mine,” Ryan quips back, causing everyone to laugh.

I want Annie and I to be just like them when we’re older and have been together as many years as they have. Annie shifts beside me, her shoulder brushing against mine under the blanket. She glances at me, her eyes meeting mine for a brief moment as if she’s read my thoughts. She quietly slips her hand over my thigh and links her pinky with mine as she did last night and a thousand times before that. It’s a gesture that grounds me, a silent promise between us that no matter what’s going on, we’ve got each other.

I gently squeeze her pinky with mine, letting her know I’m here for her, even when things are complicated and unspoken. The connection between us is small but powerful, renewing my confidence that once this day is through, Annie and I won’t have to pretend we’re a couple anymore.

CHAPTER 8

***

Annie

We travel down a long driveway lined with pine trees and wooden fences as far as the eye can see. The sleigh glides to a stop in front of the Winslow Farm entrance, and I stare in disbelief at how much it feels like we’ve been transported to another time and place. The farm is straight out of a Christmas movie, with snow-dusted evergreens framing a long cabin that serves as the main office. Warm golden light spills from the frost covered windows, casting a welcoming aura around the building. It’s the kind of glow that, if I didn’t know better, makes me want to believe in holiday magic, even though I’ve outgrown the fairytale of Christmas lore.

Sam steps out of the sleigh and I pull my scarf tighter around my neck, warding off the chill. He offers me his hand and for reasons I can’t explain, whimsy takes over and I jump from the sleigh into his waiting arms. He catches me around the waist and whirls me around with my feet dangling as I giggle. This is the Sam I know and love—the one who intuitively knows me even when I take him by surprise.

My breath fogs in the chilly air as I glance down at Sam’s handsome face. His broad smile warms me from the inside out. He loosens his grip and I slide easily down his body, the friction stirring something deep and primal within my belly. The way he looks at me and laces his fingers with mine when we’re face to face, staring into each other's eyes, gives me a flicker of hope. Maybe we aren’t as broken as it felt this morning when he fled the bedroom.

We walk hand and hand into the main office. The room is warm and inviting with the scent of pine and cinnamon. A huge Christmas tree illuminated with sparkling lights and handmade ornaments fills a corner of the room. Garlands of greenery drape the windows and doorways. A crackling fireplace snaps and pops a greeting as we enter.

“Welcome to Winslow Farm. I’m Honey.” A cheerful woman dressed from head to toe in a red elf costume lined with white faux fur and adorned with bells greets us as we approach the desk. “You must be our group from the silo across the way. Did you enjoy the sleigh ride over?”

We all chime in with smiles, nods, and variations in the affirmative. Honey’s eyes sparkle along with her million watt smile.

“Excellent. I have your itinerary for the day along with a map of the farm.” Honey hands papers and wristbands to Ryan, who passes the ID bands to each of us. “You’ll start with ice skating at the pond with Holly and Jasper. After that, over to Santa’s Workshop for some arts and crafts with Cupcake before lunch. We have a cozy table reserved for you at the cafe. Sugar’s our resident baker. She makes the best desserts.”

“I like this place.” I tug on Sam’s sleeve. “But it’s making me hungry.”

“You’re always hungry for dessert.” Sam dots my nose with his fingertip, and it feels like we’re back to our old selves. Oddly, that feels pretty darn good.

“Keep your eyes peeled for the big man himself,” Honey says as she leads us to a side exit that opens to the winteriest winter wonderland of them all. “Santa likes to pop in where he’s least expected.”

The group exchanges delighted glances, anticipation landing somewhere around fifteen on a scale of one to ten. I love Christmas but haven’t been this excited for it since I was a kid. I’m also relishing the idea of spending it with Sam.

“Thank you, Honey,” Julia says.

“Follow the path to your left all the way to the pond,” Honey holds the door open for us as we parade out into the snow. “Just follow the sound of jingle bells.”

As we head outside, I fall in step with Sam, our fingers interlocked in an inseparable bond. A shiver slithers up my spine as he runs his thumb back and forth across the top of my hand. It’s intimate and private, a little secret between the two of us.

Sam leans in close as we follow behind the other two couples. His breath warms my ear as it tickles my temple. I’m hyper aware of his proximity, hovering protectively over me. “You ready to show them who’s boss on the ice,” he chuckles, knowing I’m a bumbling fool when my feet aren’t flat on the ground.

“You know I suck at this,” I whisper. I glance at him, my heart doing a little flip flop when our eyes meet. “I’ll try not to make you fall.”

“If you plan on sucking, you’re the only one I want to go down with.” His lips brush against the shell of my ear as he whispers, his voice thick with innuendo I’d be hard pressed to ignore.

My insides swirl and spin as my pulse picks up speed. Is Sam flirting with me? I mean, we engage in witty banter all the time, but actual flirtation? That’s a line we don’t cross, at least since the incident on my twenty-first birthday. After this morning, it’s something I never thought we’d do again.

We continue along the path, and it opens to a stunning view of the ice skating pond, where happy couples and giggling children make figure eights on the glistening surface. The pond reaches far across the property to rows of towering pine trees in the distance. The area designated for skating is roped off with red and white candy cane polls draped with twinkling lights and greenery. It’s like something out of a dream—magical, mesmerizing, and surreal.

We don our skates and for a moment I almost believe the magic of this place will carry me and my skates across the pond like an Olympic gold medalist, flawless in my pirouettes, double axels, and plies. But my euphoric bubble bursts the moment I stand, then wobble, then fall face forward into Sam’s chest.

“Oof,” Sam grunts as I plow into him, a gurgled scream erupting from my throat.

He catches me with his arms under my armpits and I hang on him like a ragdoll while trying to find my footing. I’m glorious in my ineptitude, but in my defense, humans weren’t meant to balance on eighth-inch wide metal blades. It’s a recipe for disaster, though, it feels pretty good being rescued by a knight in shining armor.

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