Page 12 of Yours to Ho Ho Hold
She blows out another exasperated sigh, fighting the smile that twitches at the corner of her lips, and says, “I like that you’re so impressed by it.”
My face breaks out into a giant grin. “See, that wasn’t so hard was it?”
“It really shows me how low your standards are,” she deadpans with a wicked smile.
“You couldn’t just leave it alone, could you?” I ask with a laugh, looping my arm through hers and pulling her along with me.
“You asked, and I answered.”
She tries to squirm away but eventually gives up when I don’t release her, her steps falling into pace with mine. I have to intentionally make myself walk slow because of our height difference, but I don’t mind.
“What’s next on our date, Santa?” She winks, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my cock, and I’ve never been more thankful for layers.
“Well …” I glance up at the large hill in the distance, my eyes landing on a group of children dragging sleds behind them as they take turns pushing each other down. “Come on, you’ll see.”
I lead her along the cobblestone path, our arms still linked together, and to my surprise, she doesn’t argue or pry any further.
“So, what’s the story?” I finally ask, breaking the silence.
“What story?”
“When I asked you why you hated Christmas so much, you said it was a long story.” I look around. “We’ve got the time.”
She bites her bottom lip, something I’ve noticed she does when she’s thinking, and it makes me want to see what those red lips taste like.
When she doesn’t answer, I ask, “Have you always hated Christmas?”
She shakes her head. “No. Not always. I told you it’s my parent’s favorite holiday.” She holds her hand under her chin. “It’s why they named me Holly.”
“I knew it.”
“I guess I really didn’t start hating it until I was in my early twenties.”
We pass by a park bench, and I lead her over and take a seat, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as I nod for her to keep going.
“My parents were older when they had me. They didn’t think they were able to have children, and my mom found out she was pregnant with me on Christmas morning.”
“Ah, the name’s making a little more sense now.”
“Anyway, they both came from really poor backgrounds. My dad worked two jobs for as long as I can remember just so my mom would be able to stay home with me.” Her eyes fall. “They sacrificed so much to give me a great childhood, an education, let me do all the sports and activities I wanted.”
I lift her chin. “That’s what parents are supposed to do for their kids.”
Her brown eyes glisten like she’s holding back tears, and I don’t dare look away. I recognize a rare moment when I see it, and I’m praying she doesn’t close herself off right now.
She swallows. “I know, but it took me hitting rock bottom to see it. I wish I would’ve known how lucky I was earlier. Maybe then I wouldn’t have made so many terrible mistakes.”
“Some people have to learn lessons the hard way. The important thing is you learn, and once you know better, you do better,” I say, trying to cheer her up. I hate seeing her so torn up about this. “What’s all that got to do with Christmas?”
Her lip begins to tremble ever so slightly. “I’ve had this dream ever since I was a little girl. It’s all I ever talked about. Every time someone asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up, I never had to think. I just knew. And I was too stubborn to listen to anyone’s advice. Especially my parents.”
“There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want out of life. What was the dream?”
Her words come out in an almost-whisper. “To own my own bookstore. Only I went about it all wrong.”
I place a hand on her knee, encouraging her to keep going.
“I was twenty-one. I thought I knew everything. I met this guy, fell head over heels for him, and no one could convince me things were moving too fast. I was young, dumb, and in love.” She shakes her head. “He fed into all my crazy ideas, gassed me up, and I felt like I could do anything as long as he was by my side.”
