Chapter 21
GINGER
Ialmost turn around twice on the way to Jordan’s house. The back seat of my vehicle is covered by a large box that holds a fake Christmas tree. The front passenger seat and floorboard are filled with multiple bags overflowing with ornaments and decorations I couldn’t resist buying this afternoon.
We were already planning to spend the evening together, but he texted earlier to ask if I minded a quiet movie night at his place instead of going out.
I told him that sounded perfect. But I didn’t mention the tree or the decorations.
Or the fact that I’d spent half the afternoon trying to decide if this was a sweet surprise or a wildly presumptuous one.
He doesn’t have a tree up, and it’s less than two weeks until Christmas. I can picture how amazing one would look tucked in the corner of his living room, and I can add some decorations to his built-ins. Nothing much, just a little Christmas magic sprinkled about.
But… what if he hates my idea?
The thought hits as I pull into his driveway, headlights sweeping across his truck. For a second, my stomach flips. What if this is too much? What if he thinks I’m trying to domesticate him? Oh well, it’s too late now. I’m sure he knows I’m here.
I take a deep breath, grab one of the bags of ornaments, and climb out of the car.
The soles of my boots scuff against the pavement as I head toward the porch.
The front door opens before I knock. Jordan steps out, hair still damp from a shower, wearing a dark long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants that make him look ridiculously sexy.
Then again, he could wear a paper bag, and he’d still make my pulse react.
His smile is welcoming. “Hey, you made it.”
“I sure did, and I come bearing gifts. There’s more in the car.”
His gaze drifts from me to my car, then back to me. “Let me throw some shoes on.” He steps inside for a few seconds, and when he returns, sneakers cover his feet.
As we approach the back door of my car, the tree box is visible through the window. His brows rise. “Should I ask?”
I chew my lip nervously. “You could. Or I could tell you and save you the trouble.”
He crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Go on.”
“I brought you a Christmas tree and decorations.”
His expression is a mix of confusion and surprise, and the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth makes me feel better.
“You did?”
“Yep. A tree and ornaments. And maybe some other decorations.” I gesture helplessly toward my car. “Okay, a lot of decorations.”
He grins. “You brought me a whole Christmas setup?”
I nod. “I know it’s unexpected, but I noticed you don’t have a tree, and I thought one would be so amazing in your living room. I figured I could surprise you with something for a change.”
His grin fades, and I worry I’ve crossed a line, but then he cups my face between his palms and presses his lips to mine for a tender kiss. “I can’t believe you thought of doing this for me.”
I shrug, feeling my cheeks warm. “It’s not a big deal. Just a little festivity for the holidays.”
He shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“In a good way, I hope.”
He grins again. “Fuck yes. Come on, let’s get all this stuff inside before we freeze.”
Relief floods through me. Together, we carry all the items in. He takes the box himself and then makes one more trip to get the remaining bags.
We kick off our shoes, and I remove my jacket, hanging it on a hook.
“Where should the tree go?” he asks.
I glance around and then point to the corner near the front window. “There is perfect.”
He opens the box, removes the three sections, and looks up at me with wide eyes. “This thing is prelit. You’re the best.”
“I figured we dealt with enough lights when we decorated the outside of my house.”
“Good point,” he says, placing the bottom section into the tree stand, then tightening the screws. “I love how you got colored lights too.”
“I know you like them.”
“It’s the child in me.” He laughs, snapping the other parts into place before plugging the electrical cords into the appropriate sockets.
When he’s done, I hurry over to help him spread out and arrange the branches to cover all the gaps.
Between the two of us, it doesn’t take long, and when I take a step back to look over the finished product, I’m really pleased with my choice.
“Wow. This looks like a real tree,” he says.
“I was thinking the same thing. It won’t smell as good, but you won’t need to vacuum pine needles every day.”
“The scent part I can mimic. I have a collection of pine candles my mother gave me.”
“Well, there you go,” I say.
We dig through the bags of ornaments and start hanging them on the tree. “You know the smaller ornaments go toward the top, right?” I ask.
He smirks. “I don’t follow rules, remember?”
I blow out a long sigh. “I really regret saying that to you.”
He chuckles. “Too bad. You can’t take it back now.”
He focuses on decorating the tree while I take care of the fireplace mantel.
I drape a thick garland across the top and place tall electric candles on one end and three nutcrackers on the other.
I move on to the built-ins, placing Christmas-themed items on a few of the shelves.
Just enough to make it festive without being overdone.
“You bought me some Patriots ornaments?” Jordan asks, wonder in his tone.
I spin around, smiling. “Yep.”
“You really are the best.”
“What kind of New England Christmas tree would it be without them?” I ask.
He shakes his head, pretending to be serious. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
By the time we’re done, the whole living room has a more holiday-ish feel.
The fireplace is going and the overhead lights are off.
The tree sparkles with colored lights, the bulbs in the garland on the mantel twinkle a soft white, and there are small touches of red and green I added to the built-ins.
Jordan steps back, hands on his hips, and whistles softly. “Everything looks great.” He glances down at me with a sincere look that melts me. “But you? You’re amazing.”
I smile up at him, heart fluttering. “I’m glad you think so.”
He reaches for my hand, pulling me gently against his chest. “I know so.” He leans down, brushing his lips over mine. “Thank you for thinking of me and going through all this effort.”
“I wanted to do something nice for you.”
“Well, you succeeded.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Are you hungry?”
“For food or for you?” I tease.
“I’ll accommodate whichever,” he says with a wolfish grin.
I pat his chest. “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m starving for food.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He lets go of my hand.
“Since I knew we were doing a movie night, I planned ahead.” He walks into the kitchen and returns a few seconds later, carrying a large wooden cutting board piled with food, and has two water bottles tucked under his arm.
“This is a man’s version of a charcuterie board,” he declares, setting it down on the coffee table.
I look over the contents and find meat, cheese, crackers, grapes, and cashews. “This looks amazing and very masculine.”
He grins good-naturedly at my teasing. “Thank you.” He places the water bottles down.
“I’m shocked you even know what a charcuterie board is.”
He chuckles. “I didn’t until today. I asked Google what would be a good meal to have while watching a movie, and this was its suggestion. But then I had to look up what one was.”
A giggle slips from me. “That’s classic Jordan.”
“Hey. I like to think I’m not alone in this.” He gestures for me to sit down, and as I do, he disappears into the kitchen again. When he comes back, he settles next to me and hands me a plate and a napkin. “Help yourself.”
I take some sliced cheddar and Colby-Jack cheeses, along with some grapes, to start.
He nudges my arm with his. “I even washed the grapes. How’s that for effort?”
“Don’t you usually wash them?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Sometimes.”
I snort. “Well, thanks for going the extra mile for me.”
“Don’t mention it,” he says with a wink. He loads his plate with meat and cheese. “You know what would make this better?”
“What?”
“Bread and mayonnaise.”
I laugh. “So you want a sandwich?”
“Not right now. Maybe later.” He picks up the remote and searches for a Christmas movie. “Give a yell when you see one you like.”
“Home Alone,” I say.
“Good choice.” He throws an arm across the back of the couch, fingers brushing my shoulder.
“It’s easy to follow.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Which is good because I might try to distract you.”
“Oh really?”
“How can I not? You’re so beautiful, and I’m only human.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I duck my head. “You’re pretty distracting yourself, you know.”
He grins, clearly pleased. “I’ll take that as permission.”
“Permission for what?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“To do my best to keep your attention off the movie.”
I shake my head, laughing. “Good luck. I’ve seen Home Alone at least one hundred times. I can quote most of it by heart.”
“Perfect,” he says. “Then you won’t mind if you miss a few lines.”
“Not unless they’re my favorite parts.”
“Deal.”
The movie starts, and for a while, we eat and laugh at the antics on screen. Every so often, his knee brushes mine or his fingers graze my shoulder where his arm rests behind me. Each slight touch feels deliberate and unhurried, making my body hum.
When Kevin starts setting booby traps, he chuckles under his breath. “I always wanted to do that as a kid.”
“I bet you still would,” I say, popping a grape into my mouth.
“You’re not wrong. I could rig the best snowball launcher on the block. In fact, I might have to make a competition between my brothers and me happen.”
I look up at him. “Ooh, can I be there to watch?”
“You better be. I’d need my girlfriend there to cheer me on.”
I smile. “I love the sound of that.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Mmhmm. That’s the one.”
“Me too. What do you think? Would you like to take that title on full-time?”
“I would.”
He moves his arm away from the back of the couch and sits up, angling his legs toward mine.
He grabs a grape from the tray and holds it out toward me.
“Ginger Olson, you’re my favorite person to spend time with, and every moment we spend together makes me fall for you more. Will you be my girlfriend?”
Emotion blooms in my chest, filling it with warmth. Is it love? It could be, and if it’s not, it’s close.
“Yes, I will,” I say, beaming. Plucking the grape from his palm, I shove it into my mouth and chew.
He grins back at me and pulls me into his arms, squeezing me tightly. When he draws back, he stares earnestly into my eyes. “I’m so fucking happy you agreed.”
“Me too. The grape was a nice touch.”
He raises his palms. “It was the best I could do on short notice.”
“Well, it was the sweetest one I’ve ever eaten.”
“I’m glad.” He leans back into the couch again. “Come here.”
I scoot over until I’m pressed to his side.
His arm comes around me, and my head finds its place against his shoulder.
I press a hand to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palm.
With the overhead lights dimmed, the tree and mantel lit, flames flickering in the fireplace, Home Alone on the TV, and best of all, cuddling with my boyfriend, this moment feels like Christmas magic come to life.