Page 2 of The Bookworm Who Stole Christmas
I grin, giving her a ‘what do you think?’ look. “Do bears shit in the woods?”
“Alright, alright,” she laughs, putting her hands up in surrender. “I should have known.”
I grab the book from a shelf and ring it up for her before packaging it neatly and placing it in a bag embossed with the store's logo on it.
“Right, I have to get back. Wanna do dinner this week? There’s an ice rink that opens every year if you’re up for it?” she asks, leaning against the counter.
“Ugh, Christmas stuff,” I groan, handing her the bag. “Nope. Absolutely not. Crowds of people and Christmas? I’ll pass.”
Zoey smiles and takes the bag from my outstretched hand. “I’ll change your mind one of these days.”
“It’s going to take a very big fucking miracle to make mesuddenly love something that I’ve loathed for most of my life,” I grumble, walking over to the nearest shelf for something to do.
“Love you, bye,” she calls over her shoulder as she heads for the door. It slams shut behind her, and I welcome the blissful silence.
I really hate Christmas.
Chapter Two
PARKER
“What are you getting me for Christmas?” my thirteen-year-old daughter, Amelia, asks, distracting me as we trudge through the snow.
It came down heavily this afternoon and has painted the town a beautiful shade of white, just in time for the holidays.
I love Christmas. I love absolutely everything about it—the presents, the food, the music, and spending quality time with my family. It’s something I’ve loved since I was a kid.
“I dunno, squirt. What do you want?” I ask as shop lights start illuminating along the street.
“Ooooh, a new book would be great. I finished all the ones Grandma bought for me.” She chuckles, tucking her hands into her coat pocket.
My ex-wife, Dani, and I conceived Amelia while we were still young, and she was the best thing to ever come out of that relationship.
“Already?” I exclaim, nudging her with my shoulder gently. “She only bought you those… like a week ago!”
“I know,” she sighs, a glum look on her face. “They were just so good I couldn’t put them down.”
Laughing, I say, “Okay. Any particular one?”
“Well, seeing as Christmas is coming up, I’d love one about the holidays.”
“That I can do,” I reply, draping an arm across her shoulders and giving her a quick squeeze.
She squeals, wrapping her arms around me. “Thank you. There’s a bookstore in town called Maddie’s Den. You should be able to get it from there.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t been in there already and bought every single book she sells,” I tease, ruffling her hair. “Has all your allowance been going on books lately?”
To be fair, I didn’t even know there was a bookstore in town. Between work and renovating my house, there hasn’t been a lot of time to go exploring. Even after living here for as long as I have, the only places I’ve been to are the DIY store and the grocery store.
Amelia rolls her eyes at me, giggling. “Obviously. But, I’ve had too much schoolwork to do, which sucks because I’ve been dying to go in there.”
“Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?” I ask, wondering when my daughter got too old to tell her dad things.
“Gran’s been buying me books from an online store that delivers, so I’ve been reading those. It just never came up.” She shrugs.
“Hmm,” I hum noncommittedly. “I’ll have to go in there and report back with my findings.”
Amelia bounces up and down in front of me, replying, “Yes! I need to know everything about it. Why I can’t just go in there instead of doing homework I’ll never know,” she sulks, clearlyput out.
