Page 34 of Deck the Fire Halls

He smiled at me then and went for another slide on the sidewalk. He slid back, away from me this time, and I had to grab him with both hands. I pulled him close, purely so he didn’t hit the ground, of course.

“You’re okay,” I murmured, still holding onto him. It wasn’t a question, more of a reassurance.

He nodded anyway, our faces kinda close. He tried to straighten up, his hands were on my arms, and I moved one hand to his waist and lower back to make sure he was stable. “Thanks,” he said. “I promise my motor skills are fine. I can actually walk.”

I chuckled. “But we’re gonna need to get you some proper footwear.”

He looked down at his super trendy, expensive shoes. “I like these.”

“Well fine, but I can’t go everywhere you go to catch you. And then you’re either going to break a wrist,” I said, “or your cock-ix.”

He rolled his eyes. “Coccyx. It’s pronounced cossicks, not cock-icks.”

I grinned at him. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

He sighed and looked up the street. “I should have driven.”

I laughed and took his arm, crossing the street. “Then we wouldn’t get to talk, and I wouldn’t get to stop you from falling, and I wouldn’t be able to link arms like this, and where’s the fun in that?”

He grumbled under his breath, but he was smiling, so it was hard to take his sulking seriously.

As we got to Main Street, it was also hard not to appreciate just how scenic it was. All the Christmas trees, the decorations on the lampposts and awnings, the way the snow on the ground illuminated in the moonlight.

“You were right about that,” Rob said. “About how pretty this town could be.”

“It’s something, isn’t it?”

“I thought you were joking when you said the whole town goes into holiday-mode with the decorations.”

“We take it very seriously.”

“Oh yes, the threat of Mariah Carey on endless loop. I remember.” He chuckled. “I actually like Mariah Carey, so...”

That made me laugh. “We’d need to find your weakness. Something torturous.”

“Elvis’s Christmas album.”

I gasped. “Nooo. Not the king.”

“There is only one Christmas king, and that’s Bing Crosby.”

I snorted. “Fair call. But I’ll make a note about Elvis being your preferred method of torture. You know, should you not be forthcoming with the Christmas decorations.”

“I bought some today,” he said. “And I spoke to Gunter about ordering a Christmas tree from Clay.”

That made me stupidly happy to hear. “Good. But you’ve made no effort to put any of them up yet.”

“Well, no. I was hoping I could find someone with a ladder to perhaps help me.” He gave me a side-eye. “If you... by chance know of anyone.”

I couldn’t stop my grin, even if I’d wanted to. “I do, by chance, know of someone.”

“Is he free anytime soon?” he asked, trying not to smile. “You know, before the pitchfork-wielding townsfolk come for me.”

“This weekend.” Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I added, “I’ll check with Chuck. Pretty sure he’s free this weekend.”

Rob’s eyes went wide with surprise and confusion. “Oh. Uh, sure...”

I laughed. “Just kidding. I’m free. And I have a ladder.”

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