“You know I’m a sucker for the kisses.”
“Hershey’s are the best.”
“Sure.” One kiss ranked higher, and that was everyone with her. I plucked a cookie off the plate and popped it into my mouth. Then I dusted my fingers off. I might be unsure about my gift, but I needed to see her open it. Maybe she’d sneer or roll her eyes, and that would be definitive proof that she wasn’t damn near perfect. Something to dull my misery. “Ready to open gifts?”
She popped up. “Yes! The whole no-gift-giving thing is great when you have a big nuclear family, but I don’t think Bean is going to be getting me presents for a few years.”
“Not until at least kindergarten, when Bean makes you a paper something in class.”
“I can’t wait, but that’s a long time with no presents.” She went to the living room, then spun around and ran into my chest.
I caught her by her shoulders, and her heat seeped right into my skin. A groan nearly slipped out. I rubbed my thumbs along her fluffy sweater. “Can’t open presents if you knock yourself out.”
She blinked up at me with those big eyes. “Right.” She sounded almost breathless. “I was going to grab the cookies.”
“I’ll get them.” I hadn’t taken my hands off her, but she hadn’t moved either.
“I also bought sparkling juice.”
“You didn’t tell me this was a party.”
“You should know by now I’m a wild child.”
I chuckled and continued running my thumbs along that soft, damn sweater. “I do know you.”
She looked down, and the faintest pink dusted her cheeks. Was I making her uncomfortable?
Peeling my hands off her, I stepped back. “I’ll get the cookies. Only because I don’t know where you keep your glasses.”
The cupboard to the left of the fridge.
A few minutes later, we were sitting by each other on the love seat. I held her present to me, and mine was on her lap. Two glasses of sparkling red grape juice were on the end table, and only two cookies were left on the plate.
“I’m nervous,” she admitted, tipping my box. A telltale, but muffled, clattering sound filled the air between us. “That’s familiar.”
“Open it.”
I held my breath like I was five and giving my mom a handmade gift, which was probably why I was so nervous. I didn’t have a litany of good experiences with this type of thing.
She didn’t hold back, tearing at the wreath-covered paper, her smile growing as more of the box was revealed. “Legos?” She gasped. “Lego rocks?”
“You can’t rockhound in the winter. Thought this was the next best thing.” Plus, I couldn’t forget the day we cleaned old Legos together and created fun little scenes.
She laughed and lifted the box. “It’s perfect.” Giving it a light shake, she giggled harder. “I knew this sound was familiar. I can’t believe I didn’t guess it. Ohmigoodness, I’m going to have this all together before I go to bed if I don’t pace myself.” She squealed. “An amethyst geode. I love it.”
Everything inside me melted at her excitement. I’d never had a response to a gift like that. “Good,” I said gruffly. “I’m glad you do.”
“Ugh, now I feel like I went off track with mine.”
“Doubt it.” I ripped off the paper with more enthusiasm than intended. That disappointed five-year-old in me made a resurgence. The plain cardboard box inside didn’t tell me anything.
When I opened the top, I started to chuckle. What other reaction was there for the best gift?
“Pokémon cards?” I took out several packs. The perfect gift.
“Are they the wrong ones?” She wrung her hands together, the box of Legos on her lap forgotten. “There are so many types.”
It wouldn’t matter. “They’re just right.” My throat grew thick. “A lot of places let you only buy one pack at a time.”
