“Thank you so much!” she says, genuinely grateful.
“Happy to help,” the boy replies. “Good luck with your hunt.”
As we walk away, I expect her to tell me “I told you so,” but she doesn’t say a thing. I look at her. “You have a way with people. You know that?”
She shrugs. “What can I say? I’m good at reading a room. Or park, in this instance.”
“You certainly are,” I say. “I’m not. I’ve always been more of a numbers guy.”
“But you’re running our office?”
“Yes, but I’m more there as a fixer and to learn how to manage people.”
“Oh,” she says as if suddenly understanding. “We’re your guinea pigs.”
“In a way, but the staff also gets my number aptitude, too.”
“Then you’d better really be good at math,” she teases.
“It’s a valid point after how I treated you. But I’m planning to get some people skills from you.”
“Watch and learn.”
My gaze locks on hers. Logically, time can’t stop, but that’s how it feels to me. Everything and everyone else in the parkfades away. It’s only the two of us. Color deepens on her cheeks. I don’t know if that’s because of me or her or the cold.
I clear my throat, breaking the spell. “Let’s try to find the next item.”
Finding a dog in a holiday outfit proves easier than expected. We run into Mrs. Henderson from down the street, walking her corgi, who is sporting a tiny Santa suit.
“Oh, how adorable.” Abby kneels to pet the dog. “Can I please take a photo for our scavenger hunt?”
“Of course, dear.” Mrs. Henderson adjusts the dog’s belt. “Anything to help young love.”
As my face heats, Abby smiles and says thanks. As we walk away, she slides her hand into mine. “Young love, huh?”
I squeeze her hand. “Well, the young part might be debatable, but the love…”
Abby stops walking, turning to face me. “John Barrington, are you saying you love me?”
My heart races. I’ve had feelings for her for months, but it’s too soon to tell her that when we’re only getting to know each other outside of work now. I can, however, say something, though. “You really want to know?”
“I really do.”
Okay, then. “I’m falling for you. Hard.”
“Good.” She brushes her lips over mine. “Because I’m falling for you, too.”
I nearly pump my fist. I must be grinning like an idiot, but I don’t care. Today can’t get any better. Then I think of a way it could. I pull Abby in for another kiss, deeper this time.
A car horn blares, and we move apart.
Lizzy leans out the window of her car. “Less smooching, more scavenging, lovebirds! We’re gonna beat you!”
As Lizzy drives off, Abby laughs. “Come on. We’ve got a scavenger hunt to win.”
The next hour is a whirlwind. We dash from place to place, crossing items off our list. We convince a group of carolers to help us spell outMERRY XMASwith our bodies, with Abby perched on my shoulders for theY. We recreate the pottery wheel scene fromGhost, but with me shaping a snowball instead of clay, which has Abby bent over laughing.
As we head toward my grandparents’ house, an older gentleman shoveling his driveway waves at us. He’s only done about a quarter of it, which makes me point to one of the remaining items on our list—a random act of kindness—and Abby nods.
