Page 12 of Christmas in Vines

“Eight-thirty,” I told him while taking the clipboard and heading to my office. “A girl’s got to be fashionably late.”

* * *

The night air in the town felt crisp and cool against my cheeks, carrying the faint scent of caramel corn and candied chestnuts with the gentle breeze. Food carts were dotted around the two lanes of the main street as Tyler and I headed to the square. My town was so quaint, and the people here had a tender love for each other that I could never see myself living anywhere else.

It wasn’t snowing anymore—thank goodness—but it was nippy. I was bundled up with a thermal under my sweater dress, had a scarf wrapped around my neck, and had a beanie on.

The moment I’d met him at the curb where his car—a nice-looking SUV stood—he’d whistled low. “Is fashionably late slang for dolled up?”

I rolled my eyes but still blushed. “This isn’t dolled up.”

“It is to me,” he’d said while opening my door and bowing with an exaggerated, silly twirl of hands. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

“You’re such a goof,” I’d told him and got his crooked grin in response.

Now, we were strolling down the main street, close enough that our hands brushed each other. From the corner of my eye, I saw the shadow of a beard on his sharp jaw and noticed the puckered brow over his hooded eyes—what was drawing his attention?

Looking around me at the normal pre-Christmas set-up, I couldn’t fathom what was making him so… upset.

I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

His brows were thick and lowered over his blue-green eyes. “It's silly.”

“What is?”

We were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and people weaved and bobbed around us, chatting away and looking so lighthearted. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked a bit ashamed. “Its… Christmas. I never really got into this holiday, never truly understood what all the rush and bluster was about.”

“Oh.” That shocked me. How is it that no one got Christmas? What was there not to get? “Is there something specific that’s confusing you or—”

He waved his hand. “Er… all of it. Don’t get me wrong, I understand the reason for the season, but all this seems a bit… like overkill, don’t you think? Tree ornaments, tinsel town, those damned carriage rides in the snow, what’s the point?”

“I think the point is to celebrate love and happiness,” I replied. “These few weeks are like… giving families downtime, you know. Busy parents coming home, kids getting pulled into family activities, extended family, if you have them, coming in, getting to slow down and savor being alive and together, you know. Well, that’s how I take it.”

He still didn’t look convinced. “I suppose.”

I squinted. “Have you never celebrated Christmas before? Dressing a tree, making a god-awful dinner, going on sleigh rides, kissing under the mistletoe?”

“Nope.” He shrugged. “My family did all the trappings, but we never did anything more than enjoy the decorations and eating dinner.”

“Presents?” I asked.

Again, he shrugged, “They were just… stuff.”

It didn’t sit right with me how Tyler was so jaded. Had he had a bad childhood? Were his parents assholes? What kid, within reason, didn’t get the chance to enjoy the fullness of what Christmas had to give?

“Oh, I know,” I said as an idea popped into my head. “How about we do a Christmas redo?”

“A what?” He looked completely baffled.

“Christmas stuff,” I bounced on my feet. “What if we do it all? Christmas stuff, chopping trees and decorating it, sleigh rides, making cookies—”

“Oh no,” he stepped away with both hands up. “Hell no. You’re not getting me within ten feet of a stove.”

I grinned and came closer, “Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

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