He grabbed the remote instead and turned up the volume on the game. But the sight of the uniformed teams dribbling up and down the court only reminded him of how close he’d come to grasping his own dream. Because of his lies and deceit, he’d let it slip through his fingers. Sure, he could buy another property down the road, and he would. He wasn’t giving up.
But the deal with the Sinclairs would have saved him so much time and money. It was so ideal…even had its own basketball court…
“Bah humbug.” He clicked through several late-night sales channels and a few black-and-white films untilElfcaught his eye. He lowered the remote. Images of Holly smirking at him, wearing a red boa while listing Buddy the Elf’s checklist of things to do, gripped his heart.
What was she doing now? Did she miss him at all? Had she even noticed he’d left?
The remote slipped from his fingers onto the cushion, and hestared numbly at the TV as the climactic scene with Santa in Central Park played out. He frowned. Funny how he never realized how much he related to Walter—Buddy the Elf’s grumpy father—forgetting the meaning of Christmas, putting work and his own goals ahead of the people he cared about.
On the screen, everyone sang to generate Christmas spirit and help Santa’s sleigh fly. Stoic Walter only mouthed the words, refusing to sing, much to the chagrin of his family. Ha. He’d literally lived that moment, lip-syncing carols at his parents’ holiday parties.
But not at karaoke night with Holly. There, he’d been a full-out pop star. She brought out a side of him he never let loose. She made him laugh. Made him play.
His chest tightened, and he lifted the remote again.
But there, on the screen, the grumpy man finally conceded. He opened his mouth and bellowed about Santa Claus coming to town. And right in the nick of time. Shock registered on Walter’s face as Santa’s sleigh flew over his head.
Christmas was saved.
Nick tried to swallow against the knot forming in his throat. He didn’t get emotional at movies, especially not holiday movies. They were so cheesy. Corny. Predictable. So why did this one suddenly spark chills down his neck?
He leaned his head back against the cushion. Normally he’d dodge this feeling. Run from it. But something—Someone?—prompted him to stay in it for a minute.
He didn’t hate Christmas. That much was evident, and not just now, but also in hindsight. Nick had been as guilty as his parents for creating a holiday wrapped around the wrong thing.
Self.
It manifested differently with him, of course. He didn’t turn the holiday into a marketing event with the latest trends. But it’d still been abouthim,his feelings, his needs, his interests, andnot nearly enough about the reason Christmas existed in the first place.
What was it Thomas had said that morning—a baby that came to be perfect because we couldn’t be?
Nick watched as the movie continued playing. He really was like Walter, wasn’t he? Avoiding Christmas. Avoiding the hard parts of relationships. He’d tried to explain himself to Holly, but not really. He could have let her sleep on the information he’d thrown at her. Given her some space and tried again. But no, he’d quit and gone home. Didn’t she deserve better than that?
Didn’t they both?
Whether Holly believed him or not didn’t change the fact they’d shared something special the last nine days. Chills raced up his neck again.
Something he wasn’t ready to give up.
Nick shifted forward on the couch, heart racing. He tossed the remote onto the coffee table and picked up his ramen bowl, now full of cold noodles. Maybe he would try again and fail, but one thing was for sure, Holly would never know how he felt if he didn’t make a gesture to show her. One shecouldbelieve. Something special, just for her.
Something big.
He hurried his noodles to the sink and turned on the garbage disposal, casting an impatient glance at his watch as his old tradition washed down the drain. He knew exactly what todo.
Now to find a store open on Christmas Eve to let him do it.
Christmas Morning
I yawned my way down the stairs to the living room, tugging my new boutique sweater over my hips. Even though nothing—literally not one thing—had gone the way I’d expected this trip, I couldn’t let that infamous sweater purchase be a complete waste. Besides, it was Christmas! A day worth celebrating.
And, as I was determined to remember, it wasnotall about me anyway.
“Merry Christmas, Aunt Holly!” Janie jumped up and down by the tree stocked with presents, bouncing so hard and fast I had to look twice to make sure she hadn’t been gifted a pogo stick.
I laughed. “Merry Christmas to you.” Okay, she was making me dizzy. I paused by the back of the couch. “Where is everyone?”
Janie shrugged as she bounced. “Aunt Lydia said something about homemade kringle in the oven.”
