He took one step toward her, his head tilted, his gaze hard on hers. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She stood, unbuttoned her white cardigan, and slipped it off her shoulders. Then came her cami, her jeans, and her socks, until all she had on were her white lace bra and panties. “I’m sure.”
CHAPTER 3
An hour later,Abe stirred the chili Lily had made for them, the slow-cooked kind he loved when the roads were impassable and the world stopped rushing.
Near the fireplace, Daphne—dressed again, unfortunately—sat on the leather couch and hummed with the low Christmas music coming through the Bluetooth speaker as she unpacked a plastic tub of decorations.
A live, bare fir tree stood in the corner, courtesy of Gage. He’d left a handwritten note on a branch that said, “Decorate me!”
Daphne had loved the idea and was now sorting dozens of small nutcracker ornaments on her lap. She wore snowflake-patterned socks over her black leggings, and she’d pinned her hair up in a loose twist that made his hands ache to undo it.
Every time they made love, his heart intertwined with hers a little bit more. Now the velvet box with a solitaire diamond lay hidden in his Dopp kit, waiting for the right moment. He’d almost blurted out his proposal while wrapped up in her arms beneath the warm quilts, but something stopped him. He wasn’t sure if it was his desire to make the moment perfect or his concern about her answer.
So instead of addressing their future, he said, “Why are there so many nutcrackers? You know they’re objectively terrifying, right?”
She grinned over her shoulder, the firelight catching on the silver tinsel tangled in her hands. “Lily left a note in the box saying she found them at a thrift shop. I loved all different kinds of nutcrackers when I was little. My mom used to hide tiny jellybeans inside them.”
He watched her for a beat too long. She was pale and favored her scarred ankle when she stood or walked quickly, but there was color in her cheeks now and her smile reached her blue eyes.
He shamelessly hoped it was because of him… and the things they’d just done together.
Once the chili was heated through, and the cornbread was warming in the oven, he came over and took a purple nutcracker off the pile. “We should put them on the bottom branches so they can guard the tree from the Mouse King.”
He had to pretend he didn’t know much about the nutcracker story because he didn’t want her to know that he’d secretly been watching her dance the Sugarplum Fairy role on YouTube. She’d been a guest star at the Royal Ballet two years ago, and every time he watched the video he understood why people believed in miracles. She’d been truly magical in the role, like she’d been born to do nothing else.
He also knew she didn’t love talking about the ballet because she wasn’t dancing in it this year… and hadn’t last year either.
“There’s another box in an upstairs guestroom.” She handed him the ornaments in her lap and slipped off the couch. “I’ll be right back. Then we can eat. I’m starving.”
“Hurry.” He hung a nutcracker dressed in a Santa costume. He’d been worried about her diet because from the way she was working out and training, he didn’t think she’d been consumingenough calories… or drinking enough water. But every time he mentioned it, she teased him by calling him “granny”.
“Look what I found!” She returned with a box of vintage glass ball ornaments. “There are also some broken nutcrackers.”
The broken nutcrackers were dressed as soldiers, except their rifles had popped off. “I like these.”
She placed the box on the coffee table and dug around. “Here are the rifles. I think there’s glue in the linen closet in our bedroom.”
“I’ll fix them.” He took the broken pieces and went to the bedroom.
It didn’t take long for him to find glue and fix the soldier-styled nutcrackers, except for one with a smashed face and broken leg. Then he lined them up on the bedside table to dry.
They decorated the tree in companionable silence, broken only by the occasional clang of a dropped ornament or her quiet laughter. The fire popped and crackled behind them, its rhythm slow and steady like a second heartbeat. Christmas music added another layer of intimacy.
In the bottom of the plastic tub, he found a box with a note in Lily’s handwriting:Leave room at the top for Caleb’s star.
He handed Daphne the box tied with a red ribbon. “Do you want to do the honors?”
She untied the ribbon and pulled out a handmade wire-and-glass star.
“It’s a replica of Caleb’s star.” He shook his head, annoyed with himself because he’d forgotten to tell her about it. “Not long after my grandmother left Caleb, he erected a huge pole on one of the mountains he owned. At the top of the pole, he added an enormous, lighted star hoping it would guide her back to him.”
“Did it?”
He shook his head, throat tight. “No. But every Christmas Eve, the caretaker of the mountain lights up the star. It can be seen across three counties. It’s beautiful.”
“What a sad story. But I love the sentiment.” She stood on tiptoe, balancing on her stronger foot, and he stepped behind her to steady her waist with one hand as she placed the star. It gleamed as the firelight hit the glass panes, shards of blue and white, like frozen lake water and the winter sky.
