I take a deep breath, imagining the oxygen going to my brain cells. My breathing slows, along with the racing thoughts.
But I do think about rings. One—massive ring in particular. How ever did he swing that thing?
Headlights sweep the room, spotlighting me, then landing on Mom’s antique buffet. The LHS truck parks behind my car in the driveway.
I open the door while Knox is only partway up the sidewalk. I detect the sound of bells, but can’t make out the source.
There is an enormous gift basket requiring the strength of both his long, strong arms. On top rests a small, professionally wrapped box.
He comes fully into the sweep of the porch lights. He wears dark slacks and a red sweater that clings to his chest and stomach.
Cashmere?
I think maybe so.
He pauses, scoping out the yard. “I see our handiwork endures.”
“Yeah, the snowman has melted a time or two when the extension cord came undone, but otherwise, everybody’s hanging in there.”
Knox tips his head, chuckling. “You’re quick, Evy girl.”
The endearment messes with my heart rhythm.
A tinkling sound again rides the airwaves when he resumes walking, arriving fully into the outdoor lighting. Holding the door’s edge, I open it wide and laughter threatens to overtake my smile. Reindeer antlers spike up from his neatly combed hair. And the topper of it all? Jingle bells bob from the brown felt spikes.
“I heard you before I saw you, Knox.”
Courteous as ever, he stops to wipe his feet on the mat. He rolls his eyes up as if trying to see the noisy headpiece. “Too much?”
I tap my chin like I’m considering my answer. Really though, I’m catching my breath and savoring his magnificent cologne carried by the wind before I have to end the magical moment with words.Knox is spending Christmas Eve with me.“It’s a close call.”
“Hmm. I hope antlers aren’t along the lines of a painted chest, but I did promise I’d be here with bells on.”
I hum and tap my chin. Shrug. “I’ll allow it.”
But I will not allow the thought of Knox’s bare chest anywhere near my brain. Too soon for that. Worse, the mental image does things to me I can assure anyone who might want to know that Lance’s never did.
Knox, always quick with a smile, laughs some more. He plants a kiss on my cheek as he comes over the threshold.
The bells jingle. I love it. It’s like, they tell me he’s a good man without telling me he’s a good man.
“Is that Knox I hear?” Mom calls from the kitchen.
“No, Mom. It’s Santa.”
He and I trade smiles. I direct him to lay his gifts with the others Mom and I have meticulously wrapped at the base of the tree. There are presents even for the absent family members.
And for Knox. That one took some thought.
Mom walks into the living room as he’s straightening from delivering his gifts. The basket of goodies dwarfs everything around it. “Oh my goodness, Knox. What have you done!” She puts her hands on her hips. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Umm…” He slides his hands in his pockets and smiles sheepishly.
“But I am so glad you did! Lots of late-night snacking there.” Mom claps her hands together. “But now…dinner is ready and waiting. Let’s eat!”
Knox takes my hand. We trade happy smiles and follow Mom into the kitchen.
Wind rattles the glass panes, whistling through a microscopic crack somewhere in the frame. The north-facing dining room window has been that way for ages.
