Page 43 of Christmas Promises

“Did you have a tree in your apartment last year?”

She shook her head. “No. I went to my parents’ house and didn’t have the energy to deal with a tree of my own. Work had been really busy, and I had this permanent eye twitch thing going on, and I was so stressed out. Gosh, I was tired a lot back then. I didn’t even realize how much.”

“But not now?”

“I feel alive. Like really alive. Do you know this morning I woke up with a little flutter of excitement in my gut, thinking about the day I was about to have. I can’t remember feeling like that since I was fourteen.” She grinned.

He pulled her against him. “Has it been as you hoped?”

“Better. Absolutely better.”

Reluctantly, he let her go, returning to the task at hand. As the tree filled out, they added the remaining ornaments and silver bulbs for a touch of shimmer.

Finally, Nolan picked up the silver star tree topper. “Shall we finish this off?”

“Do it.”

He carefully placed the star on the highest branch, adjusting it until it sat perfectly straight. “What do you think?”

Laney stepped back, her gaze sweeping over the tree. “I think we did pretty great. There’s room for more, but we’ll have to collect them each year until every branch is filled.”

They stood admiring the tree for a moment, Christmas music playing softly in the background.

“The tree lighting in town is happening in a few days,” Nolan said. “I haven’t been since Dylan’s death. But I’d like to go this year, if you’ll go with me?”

“I would love to,” Laney said.

“It’s a big thing here in Sugarville Grove. There’s a snowball fight beforehand, but I suggest we skip that.”

She nodded, grinning. “I think that’s best. I’d prefer not having a black eye for Christmas.”

“Dance with me.” He held out his hands.

Laney blinked, then laughed as she took his hands. “Right here?”

“Is there a better place?”

Her mouth stretched into a mischievous grin. “I can’t think of one.”

“Hold on,” Nolan said, releasing her hands. “Let me pick a good song for us.” He scrolled through his phone before choosing a soft, classic Christmas tune—a slow, crooning version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”

He turned back to her, holding out her arms. “My lady, may I have this dance?”

Laney smiled. “I’d be honored.”

He pulled her against him and wrapped both arms around her waist. They swayed together in front of the fire, with the twinkling lights making it all seem like a wonderful dream.

“You’re a good dancer,” Laney said, glancing up and into his eyes.

“You make it easy.”

Laney rested her head against his chest. “I can hear your heart beating.”

Did she know it beat for her?

He was pretty sure she did.

11

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