Page 127 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“Thanks for coming over,” he says quietly.
“Thanks for letting me sit on your lap.”
He smiles. “Yeah, you can do that anytime.”
“Noted.” I stand on my toes and kiss him again, but when I pull away, I poke my finger into his chest. “Don’t think this changes anything, though.You’re still my number-one competitor, and I have no problem showing you who should win this competition.”
“Storee, I can tell you right now, Snow Daddy is going to take this one.”
I chuckle. “We shall see. Good night, Cole.”
“Good night,” he says softly.
And then with one more final kiss, I pat him on the chest and head back into Aunt Cindy’s house, a smile on my face, that empty feeling in the pit of my stomach no longer there.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Cole
Cole stumbled around, chest puffed, with a smile so pleasant.
For Christmas came early, her lips a tasty present.
He was floating around, his feet never touching the ground,
as he smiled, shook hands, and waved to the Kringles in town.
Then he tended to the reindeer, his expression laced with glee.
“And now”—Snow Daddy grinned—”I must decorate a tree.”
“What are you doing outhere?” Max asks as he shoulders the axe he uses for chopping.
“I need a tree,” I say.
“You what?”
“I need a tree,” I repeat.
He tugs on his ear and laughs. “Shit, I thought you just said you need a tree.”
“That’s exactly what I said.”
He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. “Umm…what?”
“Max, don’t make this a thing, okay? I need a tree, so if you can just help me—”
“For what?” he asks.
“For my house.”
He shifts, looking very confused. I don’t blame him. He used to urge me to get a tree for the holidays, but after a few years, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. My mom and I used to decorate a tree every year together—even when I thought it was uncool. “Are you saying you’re in the market for a Christmas tree?”
“I am, and if you’re going to make a big deal about it, then I’m going to go somewhere else.”
“No, no,” he says quickly. “You’ve come to the right place. Just let me get my bearings first.” He takes a deep breath and then shakes his head. “A tree.” He makes eye contact. “Does this have anything to do with her? You never really finished telling me what happened last night.”
“Nothing to talk about,” I say.
