“I suggest going wild on a smaller scale.”
She thought about the low ceilings in her duplex and sighed. “I guess you’re right. I don’t want to have to cut the tree to make it fit. So if we can’t get a tall one, let’s get a really bushy one.”
“There won’t be room to sit anywhere.”
She laughed. “Aren’t you Mr. Crabby Pants? Mark, it’s Christmas. You need to get into the spirit.”
Instead of answering, he took her hand and led her to a different section of the lot. Once there he started talking about different kinds of trees. As she didn’t know Douglas fir from cat fur, she didn’t pay attention to what he was saying. Instead she allowed herself to get caught up in the play of light on his handsome features and the way he gestured when he spoke.
She liked that, even though he wasn’t much of a holiday guy, he was earnestly trying to make sure she got the right tree for her place. Not that he would buy one for himself.
“Are you sure you don’t want a tree?” she asked, interrupting him.
Mark sighed in frustration. “Yes, I’m sure. I don’t do trees. If I get a burning urge to participate in the holiday spirit, I’ll come over to your place.”
“What about a little one for your table.”
“Darcy!”
“Okay. Fine. I’ll get a tree. But you can pick it out so that it feels more like your own.”
An hour later they were back in her living room. Mark had put the massively fat tree into the stand and was positioning it as much in the corner as possible.
“We’re going to have to move the sofa,” he told her.
She ignored his “I told you so” expression. “That’s not a problem. I’ll just pull it toward the dining room.”
“You’ll have to climb over it to get down the hall.”
She glanced at the sofa, then at the entrance to the tiny hallway that led to her bedroom and the bathroom. “If we put it at an angle…”
“Then there’s no room for the coffee table.”
She smiled. “It’s Christmas, Mark. We can do without a coffee table.”
He grumbled under his breath, then obligingly carried the table into the dining room. Through a bit of shifting and pushing, they managed to fit the sofa and the chair and the tree all into the living room. The scent of pine drifted through the apartment. Darcy carried in the boxes of ornaments she’d had stored in the garage.
“Some of these are from when I was a little girl,” she said, setting the boxes down on the sofa and opening the top one. “I made a few of them myself, so don’t laugh.”
“I’d never laugh at you.”
His words made her shiver. Darcy didn’t dare turn around and look at Mark. Not when she was afraid of what he would see in her eyes. There was something magical about spending this holiday with him. She didn’t know what was going to happen between them—she still didn’t know how to define their relationship. All she knew was that when she was with him, she felt really good inside.
“Will you see your sister for the holidays?” she asked, digging around for lights. She found the first string and handed it to Mark.
“No. Maddie’s going to be on the road. What about you? Will you go see Dirk? Or will he come here?”
“I’ll go there on Christmas Day. There’s a big celebration at the school. Apparently a lot of parents and family come. I’m looking forward to it. I have to work the week between Christmas and New Year’s. We discussed Dirk coming here for a few days, but as he’d be alone most of the day, he said he would rather stay at school.”
She hesitated, torn between wanting to invite Mark to join them for Christmas and wondering if that was too presumptuous. He was already meeting Dirk in a few days. Would he really want more contact with her brother? And yet if she didn’t invite him, was she being rude?
“What about Christmas Eve?” he asked.
She handed him more lights. But instead of taking them from her, he grabbed her hand.
“Darcy?”
She looked at him. He smiled.
