Page 78 of The Mistletoe Bluff
“You destroyed me.”
“It’s okay, Oliver. We can’t all be good at everything.”
His scowl deepened and I cackled.
“I need some chocolate,” he muttered before throwing the controller on the couch and heading into the kitchen.
“Have the roles reversed, dear Oliver?” I called after him. “I beat you at video games and nowyouneed chocolate to make yourself feel better?”
Oliver’s unamused face peeked out from behind the cupboard door. “Don’t make me come over there.”
The way he growled it made it the sexiest threat I’d ever received, even if he was holding a container full of chocolate chips in his hands.
“Or what?” I taunted.
Very, very slowly, Oliver closed the cabinet, set the chocolate down on the counter before stalking across the living room, stopping right in front of me.
I wasn’t sure if the look on his face meant he was about to pounce or burst into laughter. Then he did the last thing I expected.
He jumped onto the couch, straddling my lap, and started tickling the heck out of me. I tried not to laugh, I really did, but he found all the spots that were the most ticklish. He was relentless, a devious smile on his face the entire time until we both dissolved into fits of laughter.
We just had a tickle fight.
This sassy man was an absolute teddy bear. I never thought I’d like the cinnamon roll type of guy, but Oliver Lewis had me sold.
After he stopped, we were wrapped up in each other’s arms. He pecked a light kiss to my cheek.
“If this is the reward, you can beat me at Mario Kart any day,” he murmured against my skin. His lips brushed mine before he pulled himself off the couch, and I pressed mine together to keep from begging him to stay.
The daylight had disappeared, and Oliver peeked outside, rubbing his hands together. “It’s time for my favorite part.” He headed over to the fireplace where he put a few logs in and started a fire.
“A fire is your favorite part of Christmas Eve?” I asked.
He nodded as he went to the basket next to the couch, grabbed an unnecessary number of blankets and tossed them on the floor in front of the hearth. He made quick work of laying them out before he threw a few pillows down too.
“What are you doing?”
Oliver’s smile was full of so much joy that I smiled back.
“The best part of our Christmas Eve tradition was always making a bed of blankets in front of the fire, munching on popcorn and cookies, then talking for hours until Christmas finally came. Then we’d fall asleep as the embers cooled and sleep until it was time to open presents.”
The distinct sting of loss, like being stung by a wasp, pierced through me. He would lay on the floor for hours, just talking to his mom? How many times had I wished for such a thing? To be able to spend time with my own mom, to talk with her, ask her questions about life?
My eyes burned, and I forced myself to look away from him. But, of course, Oliver missed nothing and was there in an instant, his hands cradling my face.
“What is it, darling?”
I gave him a wobbly smile unable to keep the words I had locked up inside anymore. “It doesn’t take much sometimes to realize all I missed out on.” Oliver’s eyes softened. “Sometimes it hits at weird times, and I have to start grieving all over again.” I blinked. Had I ever said anything like that to anyone before?
“I’m so sorry, Maya. I wish I could erase that pain for you. But, perhaps, this is a chance to makeourown traditions, our own memories—bright, happy ones that wipe away all the ones that cause us hurt.”
He wiped a tear away with his thumb. “I learned a long time ago that my father will never be the man he should be, that he’ll never be the type of father I needed or wanted him to be. Once I accepted that, I became happier. Otherwise, I lived in perpetual disappointment and anger.”
“But how do you do that?”
“By taking it one day at a time, princess.”
He made it sound so simple even though it wasn’t. But I supposed he was right. One day at a time. It wasn’t something that could be fixed in a single moment or wished away. It was a day by day, little by little type of healing, until it was no longer a suffocating feeling anymore; until there was a sense of acceptance that was endurable.
