I let out a low chuckle. “I don’t know your sister, but based on what I know about you, I can definitely attest to that.” I slow my steps and fully face her. “I couldn’t imagine ever walking away from you. Not willingly anyway.”
Her gaze lifts to mine, and for a beat too long, we just look at each other.
The cold disappears. So does the noise around us. I shouldn’t say shit like this. But it’s the truth. Claire’s one of the most amazing women I’ve met in a long time. Not only is shebeautiful, but she’s also compassionate. She has a presence about her that lights up any room she walks into.
“What made you change your mind?” she asks, breaking the moment before it can build into something we can’t take back. She faces forward once more, her eyes focused anywhere but on me.
“What do you mean?”
“Why get a tree now?”
“Joshua, I suppose. I want to give him a good Christmas. Make up for the ones I missed. I just want this Christmas to be memorable. Or, at the very least, not as difficult for him as it could be. I want it to be what he’s used to.”
“It doesn’t need to be perfect. Or the kind of Christmas he always had with his mom. Just give himyou. Give him a Declan Christmas.”
I snort. “That would mean working sixteen hours and relishing the silence in the office with everyone gone.”
She comes to another abrupt stop and stares at me, looking even more horrified than she did about me never putting up a tree. “Youworkon Christmas?”
“What else am I going to do?”
“I don’t know!” She throws up her hands in exasperation. “Spend it with your brother maybe?”
“He lives in Florida.”
“Florida isn’tthatfar from D.C.”
I sigh, dragging a hand over my face. “I guess I always feel…out of place. He’s married. Two kids. Their life feels…full. And I…” I hesitate, the words stuck in my chest.
How do I explain this to her without revealing the truth? That every time I think of celebrating Christmas with his family, all I’ll be able to think about is how it’s my fault my mother isn’t there to play with her grandkids or spoil them with presents.
It’s why I don’t celebrate Christmas.
Instead, I bury myself in work to forget. But the guilt never really fades.
It hasn’t in over thirty years. I doubt it ever will.
“I guess I don’t want to feel like a burden,” I finally say, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“I may not know your brother,” Claire begins cautiously, “but if you’re as close as you say, he’d never see you that way. He probably just wants his brother around.”
“I’m not usually great company. Especially around the holidays.”
“I like your company.” She slows to a stop and faces me, her eyes finding mine. “I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I’ve missed your company.”
The air between us shifts again. Thickens. Warms.
This entire scene feels straight out of a Christmas card. Or a Hallmark movie. Surrounded by Christmas trees. A woman who lives and breathes Christmas helping a miserly grump like me pick out a tree. Holiday music piped in through the speakers. Maybe it’s being in this place that has me acting out of character. Or finally sharing pieces of myself I’ve kept locked up for years.
“You’re right,” I say softly. “You probably shouldn’t admit that.”
“Do you want me to take it back?” she asks.
“No,” I reply, my eyes dropping to her lips. So full. So soft.
And the way they moved against mine… God. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this. Shouldn’t be remembering that night. Shouldn’t be remembering how warm her mouth felt on every inch of my body, but I can’t help it.
So instead of keeping my distance like I promised, I lean closer.
