“Oh, wow! That’s incredible news. Once I sent the edited files to Tara—things got a little chaotic, so I haven’t had a chance to follow up with her since.”
“You’re so talented, Arizona.”
“I just had the hardware and the skill set. She took care of everything else and ran the marketing promos.”
“Still can’t take a compliment, can you?” His eyebrows raised.
“No, I guess not. However, in all fairness, I had so many good subjects to work with.” I laughed as I finished my last bite.
“You rest, and I’ll clean up the dishes.” He walked over to the sink. “I brought some craft supplies with me, thinking we could make new ornaments, maybe even add some to Jameson’s tree. Include him in our traditions?”
“I think he’d like that. Thanks, Dad.”
“Anything for my sweet girl.”
“Jameson should be here any minute.” I placed my phone down on the table after getting his text message. “Camilla sent him home with chicken parm for dinner.”
“That’s my cue to head out then.” He pushed his chair back from the table.
“No, Dad, he said there’s enough for the three of us.”
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” he said, with warmth in his eyes that mirrored mine.
“Never. There he is now.” The lights from his truck beamed into the family room as he pulled into the driveway.
My dad walked over to the front door, and I felt a wave of joy seeing him move freely without the cane he had depended on since the fire. When Jameson entered the house, my dad took the casserole dish wrapped in a towel from him while I welcomed my man home with loving arms.
“Sorry, I was way longer than I expected. Did you have a nice day with your dad?”
“We did, but why do you smell like sawdust?” I ran my fingers through his hair as some flaked out on his flannel-covered shoulders.
“My dad’s working on a surprise for my mom in his workshop for Christmas, which is why he asked for my help.” I wasn’t entirely sure what to think as he averted my eyes, while a hint of guilt flanked his expression before he glanced over my shoulder to the giant mess my dad and I had created on his dining room table. “What’s all this?” he asked, moving past me to take a closer look.
“When my mom was alive, we had this tradition of making Christmas tree ornaments. As you probably noticed, at my dad’s place, everything on his tree is handmade. He brought over some supplies, and we’ve been crafting all afternoon because we wanted to include you in our special tradition.”
“You did?” He gazed at me with such warmth and affection that I could have melted into a puddle. He lifted one of the twine-wrapped wreaths decorated with a red bow that I had created. Little white beads and black lettering spelled our names in the center, reading ‘ArizonaJameson.’
“This one might just be my favorite.” His voice radiated with approval.
“There’s still tons of material left, so if you’d like, we can make some more later.”
“I would really love that.” He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Shall we hang it on the tree right now?”
“Now?” I practically squeaked in surprise.
“I don’t see why not.” He nodded with a confident smile spreading across his handsome face.
“All right, any others catch your eye?” I glanced down at the table and over the array of beaded wreaths.
“All of them, but this one, it’s special, and I don’t want to wait another minute.” He practically pulled me impatiently toward the Christmas tree.
“Where are you going to place it?” I asked, curious if he’d want to remove any since his tree was quite full.
“I’m thinking front and center.” He handed me the ornament. “You hang it though.”
I took the wreath and held it against the tree in a few places before settling where I thought it would fit best. “How about here?” I glanced over my shoulder.
“That’s perfect, absolutely perfect.”
