Page 38 of Merry on the Mountain
“Yes,” she squeals with excitement and releases me.
Drew and I watch her as she runs upstairs, disappearing down the hall. He takes the brief opportunity to pull me to him and kiss me senseless until the sound of footsteps upstairs break us apart.
“Christmas pajamas have never looked so sexy,” he says huskily as he steps back.
I could say the same thing for him. His pants match the print of Izzy’s and my pajamas, but he’s paired them with a white henley. The sleeves are rolled up just shy of his elbows, and the buttons at the neck are undone.
“Got my comb.” Izzy jumps from the third stair down to the floor and then sheepishly grins up at Drew. “Sorry, forgot I wasn’t supposed to jump.”
“I’ll let it go this time.”
“Let’s get your hair done, so we can start making the cookies.”
I sit down on the couch, and she settles at my feet. She talks to me about her friends at school and the party they’re going tohave. I ask her about going to see Santa with her dad and what she wished for. Even though I won’t be in town for Christmas, I’m still planning on getting both her and Drew a gift. If I can figure out what to give him. He’s obviously got enough money to get himself anything he wants.
Drew sets a mug of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows on the coffee table for me. His eyes move back and forth between his daughter and I with so much warmth and affection my hands momentarily still. He loves seeing the two of us together doing things he struggles to do for Izzy. I’ve sent him YouTube tutorials, but he still struggles with anything other than bubble braids. But he tries, and that says so much about what a good man, what a good father, he is.
I take a sip of the hot chocolate after I finish the second dutch braid. He added a dash of cinnamon, giving it a slightly spiced flavor. Our eyes meet as he watches me lick a bit of foam from my lip. His eyes darken when I give him a flirty wink knowing damn well he can’t do any of the things he’s thinking about.
It also becomes very clear as soon as I start teaching Izzy how to make sugar cookies that Drew is rather clueless when it comes to baking. With how good he is at cooking, I would have thought that this would come more naturally to him. The thing I love most about him, though, is that he’s always humble when it comes to learning a new skill. I never would have thought he was a professional athlete when I was teaching him how to ski. Not because he isn’t athletic as fuck, he clearly is, but because his attitude is so positive and down to earth.
Then again, that could be my own bias coming out. I’ve skied with professional skiers and snowboarders, and so many of them are pretentious as fuck. Maybe it’s because he played a team sport? Either way, it’s a wonderful and endearing quality.
Once the dough is rolled out and chilling in the refrigerator, we move on to decorating the Christmas tree. With the vaultedceiling in the living room, Drew was able to get a large tree. Luckily, he and Noah already put it up, added lights, and watered it, so all we need to do is put up the ornaments.
The last thing I was expecting to find when he opened the box was to find dozens of homemade ornaments. Everything from macaroni angels to crocheted snowflakes. Each one has a memory attached to it. Both Izzy and I remain completely enraptured by the way he explains each one.
“Do you have a Christmas tree in your van?” Izzy asks as we stand around the tree and admire our work.
“No. There’s not much room, even for a small one. I do put up multi-colored lights along the inside, though. “I usually go home for the holidays, though. At least for Christmas Eve and Christmas day, so not having the decorations doesn’t affect me too much.”
“Nana and Pops are coming here for Christmas,” Izzy tells me. “They haven’t been to see us here yet, so we’re going to do all the fun stuff.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Skiing,” she giggles. “Then ice skating.”
I meet Drew’s eyes, which crinkle with a smile. “I’m not sure they’ll be up for all that, but we’ll definitely find some fun stuff to do.”
“I bet the cookie dough has chilled long enough to cut out cookies now. Shall we go check?”
Drew turns on Christmas music while we let Izzy go to town making cut out cookies. She giggles and laughs the entire time while she compares the dough to playdoh. At one point she shows us how one of the boys in her class taught her to sculpt the poop emoji. How a little kid knows what emojis are is beyond me, but I’m obviously not a parent. It’s not like Drew and I didn’t bust up laughing at how good of a job she did making the shape.
While we wait for the cookies to bake, we set up the three premade gingerbread houses and organize the candy and icing. We set a timer for half an hour, and whoever wins gets to pick dinner and the Christmas movie we’ll watch tonight. My plan is to let Izzy win, but if she loses interest, I’m going to smoke Drew. There’s no way I’m risking him picking a bad movie when we’ve already debated whether or notDie Hardis a Christmas movie.
It is not.
When the timer goes off, I look over at Drew’s creation, and all my worries cease. It’s the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree version of a gingerbread house. Candy pieces slide down the sides, and he somehow managed to crack one of the walls.
Mine isn’t much better, though. Creativity has never been my strong suit, unless we’re talking creative ways to plot a trail through the mountains.
Izzy’s house, on the other hand, looks incredible. She used little candy pieces to line all the windows like lights. There are gumdrops on the top of the roof. She even used peppermints to make a chimney. Somehow she had time to set up candy canes along the front of the house, lining the sidewalk to the door.
“That’s so good, Bug.” Drew looks over her head at me and mouthsholy shit.
“I heard that. Ten dollars for the swear jar.”
“What? I didn’t swear.”
