Page 18 of Booked for the Holidays
“You should listen to her, Theo. She’s smarter than you. Mac, you’re welcome whenever you want. No father required.”
“I think I’m being ganged up on,” Theo grumbles, pulling out a crisp ten-dollar bill, “and I don’t like it. Thank you, Bridget. That was very kind.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Jar choices?”
“The JetsonsversusThe Flintstones. You were alive in the 50s, right? Should be an easy pick for you.”
His eyes narrow and the paper flutters intoTheFlintstonesjar with a flourish. He leans forward and keeps his voice low as he whispers, “Careful, Brownie. That mouth will get you in trouble one day.”
The implication sends a flood of heat down my spine. Warmth inundates my body, skin prickling with awareness at our close proximity. His eyes fixate on the seam of my lips and I wonder what it would be like if his mouth met mine. Demanding? Gentle? Soft and slow?
Demanding, probably. Theo seems like a man who takes what he wants and leaves nothing behind.
And I think right now, buried under that threat, he might want to takeme.
Holy hell.
I inhale a jagged breath. “Maybe I like trouble,” I whisper back.
His mouth curls up, a braggadocious smile in place. “Noted.”
I blink, looking away from the man who’s making me feel like I’m flying down the slope of a roller coaster. Nervous, excited. Anticipating what might come next, and the thrill of the free fall to the ground.
“Thanks, BB,” says Mac. “See you soon!”
Shit.
Finding out Theo has been hiding a literalkidfrom the world caused me to forget about asking why there was a sudden interest in joining the competition. He was so against the idea before. What the hell changed between then and now? Was Mac the reason behind the decision? Does he plan to be difficult and challenging? Is he willing to tread forward amicably, all in the name of holiday fun?
As they leave, voices growing softer the further away they walk, the store turns desolate and lonely. Quieter without their laughter and cooler without the heat of temptation. I watch Mac look up at Theo and grin. He holds the door open, scans the sidewalk, then motions for her to exit first. His eyes meet mine a final time before the pair disappears around the corner and I’m all alone.
This kind of changes everything, doesn’t it?
He let me in. He didn’t run away. He admitted I make him happy.
Maybe.
I’ve noticed over the years, the Wednesday mornings he shows up and spends more than two seconds collecting his pre-made drink and darting away are better–significantly, monumentally better–than the days I don’t see him at all.
I think that means he might make me happy, too.
SEVEN
THEO
The winter holidayswere my favorite time of year when I was growing up.
The season officially kicked off the Friday after Thanksgiving in the Gardner household, and not a minute before. We had lots of traditions I looked forward to, counting down the days until we could start to celebrate. As a kid, my parents and I would drive around town, searching for the houses with an over-the-top display of decorations. We’d pick out the family Christmas tree–always real–and adorn it with ornaments collected over the years. A combination of handmade projects courtesy of my elementary school art class and expensive glass-blown nutcrackers and bearded Santas hung from the branches while white lights twinkled through the living room, a kaleidoscope of colors.
We sipped hot chocolate topped with marshmallows out of personalized matching mugs and watched holiday movies in the park with other townsfolk, lounging on blankets and indulging in Mom’s famous peppermint bark, the recipe handed down from her grandmother. Our three stockings hung from the mantle above the fireplace, complete with knitted initials.
It was never about the presents. Yeah, I got a basketball hoop and cool bikes, but it was about the time we got to spend together. My parents were busy entrepreneurs, running the business my great-grandfather started nearly a century ago. Even during a hectic time of year, when people were stress buying nails to hang wreaths and paintbrushes to finish the guest bathroom before their in-laws came to visit, they always made me a priority.
We had so many good days. When the weather was cooler, we’d spend all morning at the theme parks, screaming on roller coasters until our throats were sore. On the warmer days, we’d drive over to the beach for the afternoon. We'd grab subs from our local grocery store along the way for lunch, the sun beating down on our skin. Our annual family Christmas photo was captured by Kodak, in front of historic landmarks at Kennedy Space Center. Memories and snapshots I wish I could preserve, forever immortalized in the Beautiful Before.
Life was wonderful. Life was good. Life was perfect.
