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Lexi throws her head back in laughter.

“Seriously, though?” I splay my hand across the poster of Gordan Ramsey again, dying for the explanation.

She shrugs. “I went through an intense month in high school when I binged everyHell’s Kitchenepisode. I was obsessed with the rude chef and his British accent.” She narrows her eyes, imitating, “I’ve never, ever, ever met someone I believe in as little as you!” Her British accent leaves much room for improvement. “I felt a connection to him. He always said what was on his mind, whether others found it offensive. I loved that. I was that.” She shakes her head.

I shake my head and laugh. “So you wanted to be a chef?”

She furrows her brow. “No, not really. Maybe for a week. I tried to make his beef Wellington recipe, and it was a complete disaster. I hated every second of the process. I ruined one of my mom’s baking dishes, and when all was said and done, I don’t think a dog would’ve been able to stomach the meal. It was awful. I realized my kinship with him was more about his personality than his occupation.”

“Got it.” I inhale deeply, and the scent of whatever Lexi’s mom is baking assaults my senses with warm feelings. “It smells like cinnamon.”

Lexi looks less than amused. “It smells like Christmas. I still don’t know why we had to come back. It’s been less than two months.”

“I know, but we promised your parents that we would.”

“They would’ve gotten over it.”

“Sure, but if you promise something, you should follow through.”

“I know. I know.” She sighs and plops onto the floral comforter on her bed.

I lie next to her, my head propped up on my elbow. “Plus, I want to see what a Laine family Christmas is like. I mean, I got more of the holiday on the first two days of November than I get in a normal season back home. Call me curious, but I’m looking forward to this week.”

“Well, expect more presents than you need or could possibly find a use for. The Elf on the Shelf will be making all sorts of appearances doing a myriad of mischievous things.”

“Your parents still do Elf on the Shelf?”

“My mom, and yes. It makes her happy. I think she amuses herself more than anyone. We will be leaving out cookies for Santa and treats for the reindeer on Christmas Eve, of course. I guarantee she has an evening of Christmas caroling set up. We’ll drive through light displays and watch all the classic holiday movies with hot cocoa and homemade treats. Living here was straight out of a Hallmark movie, no joke.”

“That sounds awesome. My mom tried, but she worked a lot and wasn’t home often. She did the best she could. I appreciated everything. Our stockings would always be filled with apples and oranges and a new toothbrush. It was a treat we looked forward to every year. Fresh fruit was a luxury we didn’t have, as was a new toothbrush.”

Lexi turns toward me. “God, I feel like a complete asshole.”

“Why?”

“Because I would’ve been pissed if fruit or a toothbrush ended up in my stocking. And I feel horrible for admitting that.”

“Don’t. We grew up differently.” L eaning in, I kiss the tip of her nose. “We each bring something different to the table. That’s a good thing. You know?”

She brings her hand to my cheek and pulls my face toward hers. This kiss is deep. Lying in her childhood bed, surrounded by her history, makes the kiss feel scandalous as if her father is going to walk in and catch us at any moment.

She pulls her mouth from mine. “I hate that we’re missing Cam’s surprise birthday party.”

Deacon is throwing Cam a surprise party on her birthday the day after Christmas.

“Yeah, I know. I told him we’d FaceTime during the party to say hi.”

“It’s not the same,” she grumbles.

“No, maybe not. But we promised your mom a week of Christmas fun, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

She scoots in closer, nuzzling her face against my chest. “You’re such a suck-up,” she teases. “You just want my parents to adore you.”

“Obviously, Lex. Life is always easier when the parents are on board.”

She tilts her face up toward mine. “Well, let’s make out a little before my mom knocks on my door to invite us to the scheduled popcorn and cranberry garland stringing event.”

“Deal,” I say before pressing my lips to hers.

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