Page 75 of Scrooge

“Thank God, you are tall, because there is no way I can reach the top.” Resting her head back on my chest, she stares up at it in awe, and my heart swells three times the normal size for how I feel about her.

“I have a ladder,” I tell her, because she is right. This tree is just over ten feet tall, and we’ll need help. Running my hand down her arm, I feel the ring that still sits on her finger, and I grin.

“You ready?” I ask her, and she looks up at me with an eager nod before lifting onto her toes and kissing me. It takes everything in me to keep it PG when she moans softly against my lips.

Pulling back, she whispers, “Thank you for this,” and we grab our wine and walk over, ready to bring some festive cheer into the penthouse.

“Where do we start?” I ask, feeling overwhelmed with it all.

“Don’t think too hard about it. I think half the fun is just placing the ornaments on haphazardly; it makes the tree more unique,” Haylee says as she starts by grabbing the red and green ornaments and placing them on the branches. I follow her lead, putting them all a little higher, where she can’t reach, and we work in unison.

“Oh, look at this one!” Haylee says, and I look down to see her holding up a decoration. A novelty one.

“Really?” I say, rolling my eyes.

“What, it’s cute!” she says, laughing, the lights from the room bouncing off her eyes, making them shimmer.

“Laurent’s idea of a joke, I assume,” I grumble, pretending to be grumpy, yet in reality, I feel anything but.

“Well, I like it. I am going to put this one front and center.” She steps forward and hangs the decoration of Ebenezer Scrooge on the tree.

“What about this?” I say as I pull out an artist easel, a smile coming to my lips, liking the fact that Laurent put some thought into the decorations he purchased.

“I like Laurent. He has good taste,” she says, pleased with the decoration choice.

“He is something,” I murmur as we continue decorating the tree.

* * *

It takes us all night,but the tree is dazzling with colorful lights, Haylee grinning from ear to ear as she takes photos of the tree and sends them to her mom and sister.

The fire is on, the tree sparkling, red wine open on the kitchen counter, along with some take-out boxes from the Chinese we ate earlier. I have music playing, am sitting back relaxed, and my fiancée is happy. Though she might be tired, so am I. This is the happiest I’ve ever been. I know my father wouldn’t necessarily approve. He was always so tight with budgets and not one for holiday cheer, but I am not him, no matter how hard I try to be. I am just me.

I stand, setting down my wine as a slow Christmas song comes on. “Dance with me,” I say, and she looks up at me, surprised.

“Really?” she asks, a wide smile curving her lips.

“Yeah. Come here.” Stretching out my arm to her, she takes my hand, and I bring us to the middle of the room, and we start to sway.

“I didn’t peg you for a dancer,” she says softly as I wrap my arms around her, and she loops hers around my neck.

“Hmmmm, I’m not. But I really like having you in my arms, Haylee Tucker.” Dropping my head, I skirt my nose across hers.

“I like being in your arms, Alexander Jackson.” She says my full name, and I smile. She usually calls me Alex, which I now love.

We continue to sway, the music magical as the tree glistens and the fire warms us. The red wine is doing a great job of relaxing us both after a busy day. As she looks up into my eyes, I lean in and kiss her, needing another taste of her. Slowly, our lips move against the other’s, enjoying this moment and taking our time. I run my hand up and down her back, and she buries hers in my hair. I wonder how I got so fucking lucky to meet the girl of my dreams. When we come up for air, both of us in a daze, there are only three words ready to fall from my mouth.

“I lo—” I start to whisper against her lips, but before I can finish, I feel my cell. Vibrating in my trouser pockets, I try to ignore it. Nothing else matters to me right now. As we pull back from each other more fully, I put my lips to her forehead, and we continue to sway to the dulcet tones of the slow Christmas music. The words still linger at the forefront of my mind, ready to speak them into existence, but the moment is broken again as my cell rings once more. Someone’s persistent.

“You should get that,” Haylee says, smiling. “It might be important.”

“For reference, I’m going to fire whoever it is on the other end,” I grumble, not happy, but knowing she is right. It could be important, I suppose.

I pull out my vibrating cell, realizing it has been going crazy for the past few hours, but I didn’t want to indulge in it when trimming the tree. Now I see a few missed calls from Logan, along with a few messages.

Logan:Did you forget about our catchup?

“Shit,” I say under my breath.

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