Page 61 of Merry with Me

“I’m with you.”

“What?”

“I’m with you. I’m enjoying the day… no matter what we’re doing.”

“See, there you go, hiding your grump for your sweet.”

He laughs, and the sound washes around me like a warm blanket. “Call it the Blakely effect.”

“Oh, you named your sweetness after me. I like it.” I nod.

“What’s left on your list, crazy girl?”

“The only person left on my list is Isla. We’ve made good use of our time.”

He glances down at the bags at our feet. “Yeah, I’d say we have.”

“What about you? Do you have anyone left on your list?”

“Just one, but I don’t know what I’m getting yet. I still need to think about it.”

“Okay, well, I’m down for another shopping trip. You let me know when you’re ready.”

“You’ll be my first call.”

I start piling our trash on our tray and glance over at where Santa and his elves are set up. “You want another picture with Santa?”

“Do you?”

“Wait. Are you willing?”

“Can’t say no to you, remember?”

“There’s no line. Let’s do it.”

“Really? We already have one.”

“I know, but this one will be different. This one you weren’t forced.”

“I wasn’t forced before.”

“Yeah, but this time you’re doing it for me.” I bat my eyelashes at him and jut out my bottom lip.

“I don’t like Christmas,” he reminds me.

“But you like me,” I counter.

“Yeah, I do.” He stands and grabs our tray. “Let’s go get our picture taken with Santa.”

“Yes!” I’m out of my seat, gathering our bags, and lugging them to the line. Oliver joins me, taking the majority of the load from my hands. There are now a few kids in front of us, but the line moves quickly.

When it’s our turn, we pile our bags off to the side, where someone can’t just walk by and snag them. I go to sit on Santa’s lap, but Oliver stops me, plopping his ass down on Santa’s knee and pulling me onto his.

“Sorry, Santa,” Oliver says. “I’m the only one who gets to hold my girl.”

Santa gives us a belly jiggling “Ho, Ho, Ho,” and when I smile for the camera, it has nothing to do with the fact that my grumpy man friend is getting his picture with Santa for me for the second time this season, but it’s his words that light my smile and keep it on my face.

After grabbing our bags, we head over to get our picture. “Two, please,” Oliver tells her. The elf prints us two copies and places them in cardboard Christmas-themed frames as Oliver hands over the cash. He passes me one of the copies and kisses the corner of my mouth. “Merry Christmas, Blake.”

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