“I guess you’ll be going down memory lane, then.” I hand him the scissors I found in the kitchen drawer and then some of the crepe paper I had left over from the event. “I figured we could stick the snowflakes on the windows.”
“All you gotta do is look outside—”
“Don’t be a party pooper, Adam. No one likes a killjoy.”
He looks at me with a narrowed gaze, as though I’ve hit a nerve. Except that he comes closer, making my heart stutter as it picks up its pace. Lowering to sit in front of me, he starts folding some of the paper as he says, “I’m not a killjoy.”
“Really? If that’s so, you can help me hang some tinsel around the frames on the walls and a little wreath on the front door once we’re finished with these.” Smiling, and satisfied with my efforts at teasing him, I chance a look at Adam to find him staring at me.
“You don’t do anything by halves, do you?” He chuckles with a flash of his perfect teeth.
“Not when it comes to Christmas,” I admit.
“Why Christmas?”
“I love it! Everyone is so happy and merry. It brings everyone together. It’s the one time of year when my parents were actually around when we were kids. We were like a real family. Part of me thinks they went above and beyond to try and make up for how absent they were the rest of the time. But regardless of their reasons, Christmas was always the best. Even now, I always go back to LA to spend it with my brother. It just feels magical, I guess. That probably sounds lame…” I trail off as I realize I’m rambling.
“No, not at all,” Adam says, moving to sit beside me on the couch. He seems genuinely interested, and it makes me want to continue to spill my guts to this handsome stranger.
Sending him a grateful smile, I continue. “Plus it’s a busy time of year for me professionally. As an events planner, so much of my work is based around Christmas events or parties. So I’m always busy, which I love.”
“I get that. How about you give me a refresher lesson in how to make these paper snowflakes?”
3
Adam
Too early. Turning down the radio, I gulp down another mouthful of coffee while taking in the Christmas explosion around me. There’s tinsel everywhere, and small paper snowflakes frame the view of the white hills and fields surrounding us.
Talk about contagious. I can’t believe I’m actually smiling at the thought of Amelia letting loose on an actual Christmas tree. Except, that’s the only thing she couldn’t fit in her tiny-ass car.
Drinking down the rest of my coffee, I try to distract my head from her by focusing on my inbox. It’s a pointless task, though, because all I can think about is how different Amelia is to anyone I’ve ever met. Happiness oozes from her.
Don’t be an enabler, I tell myself at the same time as I press one of the paper cutouts back to the glass. Before I can stop myself, I’m rinsing out my coffee cup and heading for the front door. I have calls I need to make anyway, so the drive will allow me some time without obvious distractions to catch up with the legal team back in New York. If we can get this investment deal closed while I’m here, it will put me in good standing with the board.
“Running away from the grotto already?” Amelia’s chuckle has me spinning to find her standing halfway down the stairs.
Still in her gray and pink plaid sleep shirt and fluffy socks, she’s a vision with her red hair a wild, knotted mess around her shoulders and a broad grin that makes it impossible not to reciprocate.
Pulling on my coat, I make a point of looking around. “Jeez, what gave you that idea?”
“Too much?” A pensive look scrunches her nose as she fingers the lights wrapped around the bannister.
Actually, the place looks more homely than when I arrived, if that’s even possible considering how cozy the cottage is. Still, I’m already going too far with my current endeavor; she doesn’t need me to exacerbate her holiday craze.
“I’ll let you know when I get back. I have an errand I need to run this morning.”
A loud whimper escapes her as I open the front door and the wintery bluster rushes in along with some stray snowflakes.
With one last glimpse of her, I close the door heading for the Range. By the time I’ve cleared the snow and got inside, Amelia’s sitting at the window watching me with a coffee in one hand and her phone to her ear as I drive away. There’s something oddly pleasant about knowing she’s as curious about me as I am about her.
Although, I’d say I’m more than curious at this point, given I’m still searching her out in the rearview mirror while heading into the village on the lookout for a Christmas tree when I should be using the time to make the calls I need to for work.
A few minutes into my venture, my phone rings. Daphne. She tried to FaceTime me last night, probably hoping for a tour of the quintessential English cottage she’s clearly obsessed with. It strikes me then that she would love Amelia. They have very similar quirky personalities.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” I ask her in answer to the call.
“Are you mad at me?” Her voice has that sweetness to it that she uses to thaw me out when I am pissed at her. “I thought the cottage was a good call. There was nowhere else. There’s like one hotel, and it was all booked up…”
“You can stop with the apologetic talk. I’m not mad.”
“So why didn’t you answer my call before?”
“I was busy.” A sign of a smiling Christmas tree grabs my attention at a farm lane, and without a second thought, I turn into it.
“Only you would be working when you could be enjoying the change of scenery.”
“I can’t let Dad down, and I sure as fuck ain’t letting any of the vultures take what’s mine.” Coming to a stop in front of a large stone farmhouse, I look around at all the trees, all tall and green.
I can practically hear Amelia squeal with excitement over them. Maybe I should’ve brought her with me. It’s not like I know anything about this stuff.
“You’re a florist, what do you know about Christmas trees?”
“What?”
“I need to buy a Christmas tree for the cottage, so what do you know about them?”
“Why do you need a—”
“Daph, I just need the lowdown on the things, not one thousand and one fucking questions.”
“They’re fucking trees, asshole! They need water so they don’t die, and you’re meant to decorate them. Since when do you celebrate Christmas?”
Asking her anything was a mistake, I should’ve told her to call back later and asked the guy staring me out in the courtyard.
“Why are you being weird?” she asks in a tone that tells me if I don’t answer her, she’s going to keep asking shit and we’ll be here a lot longer than necessary.
“My housemate has a thing for Christmas, and since there’s already tinsel and paper crafts everywhere, I thought we might go the whole hog and get a tree too.”
“Wait. Housemate? Since when? I thought it was the whole cottage…”
For a second, I’m tempted to tease her and make her believe that she was wrong. That I’m in houseshare hell, but it’s the furthest thing from the truth. And it would only prolong our call when I want to get back to the cottage and Amelia.