Page 65 of Christmas in Paradise

I wonder how he got so far so fast, but before I can form the entire thought, Mrs. C., says, “We’ve got a bit of a situation up here.”

I’m already off the table running for the doorway when Uncle Rad zips by her, then past me, her leash bouncing up and down behind her.

Charly follows seconds later, yelling, “Bad doggy! Bad doggy! Bring it back!”

Seb jumps in front of Uncle Rad to intercept her, but she jukes and turns back in my direction.

That’s when I see she’s got something in her mouth. Something red and green, and very familiar. My excuse for talking to Seb in the first place, until I got distracted kissing him.

Chapter 21

Sebastian

Uncle Rad dashes by me, but instead of lunging for her, I step on the leash dragging behind her. Luckily, she’s not going quite fast enough for her breakaway collar to unbuckle or for her to get any more than a gentle jerk backwards. I’ve learned a few tricks over the past few weeks.

But not enough to tell her to drop whatever is in her mouth instead of grabbing it from her. Puppies have surprisingly strong jaws, and Uncle Rad is not interested in letting go of the stuffed thing. She whips her head side to side, enjoying every second of the game she thinks we’re playing.

Hope, on the other hand, is not loving it.

“No, no, no!” she cries as she rushes toward Uncle Rad and me. “She’s ruining it!”

“Oh dear,” Mrs. C. says, waddling over to us. “Not another one.”

I stop tugging, realizing the seriousness of the situation. “Leave it, Uncle Rad.”

Charly repeats my words, and Uncle Rad smiles at both of us with the thing clamped tightly in her jaw.

“Please let my gnome go,” Hope pleads, but stops herself from trying to take it from Uncle Rad. She’s smarter than me, obviously. For so many reasons.

“Peas,” Charly repeats and gets on her hands and knees right in front of Uncle Rad.

To my surprise, Rad drops whatever she’s got right at Charly’s hands.

“Good puppy!” Charly sits on her bottom and pulls Uncle Rad into her lap.

“How did Charly do that?” I mutter, but a gasp from Hope draws my attention away from the cute-TikTok-worthy scene playing out in front of me.

“How did she get into the box?” Hope picks up the thing Uncle Rad dropped.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault.” Mrs. C.’s face wrinkles with concern. “Charly wanted me to see what was inside. I must not have closed it tight after we looked.”

“Look what Uncle Rad did.” Hope holds up a chewed-up something that vaguely resembles the kind of gnome Grandma Sparks has all over her house at Christmas. She calls themnisse. It’s a Danish thing.

They wear tall, pointed hats and long beards. Sometimes they have short cylinder-shaped bodies, like the one Hope is holding once did. The only part of the face that’s ever visible is a round nose that pokes out under the hat, through thenisse’sbeard.

Except thisnissedoesn’t have a nose anymore. Or really much beard left. Or hat. Or body.

Basically, it’s a mess.

But I’m not quite sure why Hope is moaning and rubbing her forehead. Like I said, they’re all over the place at Christmas.

“I’m sorry.” I move closer, not sure what I can do to comfort her, and even less sure when she inches away.

A couple minutes ago, we were kissing. We’d both let our guard down. There were no boundaries between us.

Now Hope’s guard is back up, but I have no idea where the boundaries are. Do I put my hand on her shoulder? Do I try to take her hand? What am I allowed to do here?

“I can get you another one,” I say lamely, standing close but not too close, one leg stretched out long so I can keep Rad’s leash under my foot.

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