Chapter 18
ALEC
“Do you think we bought too many decorations?”
Hazel eyeballs the half-dozen bags wedged into the back of the cab before glancing back at me. “It didn’t seem like that much when we were at the store,” she adds. “But now that I’m looking at everything…”
“No way,” I reply as I loop my arm around her waist, drawing her to my side. “There’s no such thing as too many ornaments. Or at least, that’s what my mom always said whenever my dad would complain.”
“I thought your dad liked all the decorations. Isn’t the whole Dickens Village his?”
“It is,” I agree. Grabbing the first two bags from the cab, I set them on the driveway before going back for more.
“He likes to give my mom a hard time about it. And she likes to pretend she’s upset when he does.
It’s just one of those holiday traditions they’ve followed for as long as I can remember. ”
Hazel hands me the next two bags. “I love that you guys have so many traditions.” Her expression sobers slightly.
“My dad and I would always make popcorn garlands for the tree. And he’d drive me around Bennington to see the houses all lit up for Christmas.
Then we’d come home and watch Rudolph. It didn’t matter how old I was. ”
My heart twinges. From everything Hazel’s told me, she and her dad were really close. And it makes me sad that she’s been on her own since his death, since her mother is off in Florida living her own life.
“That sounds really nice.” With all the bags retrieved, I pick all six up and loop three on each arm.
“It was.” Her expression remains wistful for another few seconds. Then she brightens. “But we can make our own traditions. Since it’s our first Christmas together and all.”
“Absolutely.” I kiss her cheek. “Starting with loading up the tree with as many decorations as possible.”
“Well.” She turns to look at the giant tree hanging partly out of the back of my truck.
“We certainly got a big enough one.” With a grin, she asks, “Are you sure it’ll fit in the house?
Or is this going to end like that scene in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation?
With the branches going through the windows and sap everywhere? ”
“Hardly. I have it all planned out. Once the tree settles, I’ll trim up the branches. And shape the top so we have a perfect spot for the star.”
Hazel stares at the tree for another moment before shifting her attention to my front porch. “And while we’re waiting, we could put up the decorations outside?”
“Of course.” I angle my chin at the duo of wooden reindeer resting beside the tree. “We can put up the lights and garland, plus the reindeer, of course. Then lunch. By then, the tree should be ready to come inside.”
“While you’re putting the lights on it, I’ll make some cookies,” Hazel offers. “I think eating cookies and drinking eggnog while decorating the tree should definitely be another Christmas tradition.”
“What about sex beside the tree afterwards?” I ask with a little smirk. “I think that sounds like a good tradition, too.”
Hazel smiles. “I think that sounds like a great idea.”
As I look at her, eyes sparkling from happiness and pink-cheeked from the cold, her hair blowing back from her face like a dark halo in the breeze, words fail me.
All I can think is, how lucky am I?
How did I find this perfect woman? What did I do to deserve her?
What would I do to keep her?
But I know the answer to the last.
I would do anything.
Since we first exchanged I love you yesterday morning, I’ve finally given myself permission to think about the long term. Not just in weeks or months, but a lifetime.
Yes, I know it’s still far too soon to bring up the topic of marriage.
But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it.
It doesn’t mean I didn’t wake up this morning with the remnants of a dream still lingering; a dream with Hazel all in white and glowing with happiness as she walks down a flower-strewn aisle towards me.
Who would have thought it? Back when Winter and Lark and Rory kept bugging me to date and I had every excuse in the book why I shouldn’t. Back when I was convinced being single was the best way and I didn’t want to bring anyone new into my tight circle of trusted friends.
Who would have thought that I’d be ready to drop to one knee right now, if I thought Hazel was ready?
I won’t. Not yet. Not when Hazel is still going to weekly counseling sessions and having nightmares nearly every night. Not when she still jumps at sudden noises and wants me to drive her to work and back, even though we just picked up her new car last week.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than happy to bring her to work. I prefer it, honestly. But I know in time, Hazel will want to drive herself. She’ll want more independence instead of sticking close to me all the time. She’ll want to go out in Bliss on her own instead of waiting for me to go with her.
Maybe then it’ll be time to propose. And in the meantime, could it hurt to check out rings online? Just to see my options? After all, when I do propose, I’ll want everything to be perfect.
“It sounds like a perfect day,” Hazel adds.
The late-morning sun catches her hair, picking up bits of red and bronze.
“Decorating for Christmas, cookies, and making love by the tree. It’s like one of those movies Lark likes to watch.
” She stops. Laughs. “Well. Maybe not quite. The ones she watches don’t have anything more risque than kissing. ”
“If that’s all you want to do, we can stop at kissing,” I offer, knowing full well what her answer will be.
“Pssh.” Hazel swats my arm. Then she stretches up on her toes to kiss me. “Kissing is great, but I want all of it. I want to see my sexy boyfriend all naked by the tree, the twinkly lights casting a glow on your muscles…”
I burst out laughing. “The lights casting a glow on my muscles?”
Her cheeks turn a deeper pink. “I may have been reading some of those Christmas romance novels Lark gave me. They have lovely descriptions in them, you know.”
“Like Christmas lights glowing on men’s muscles?” I give Hazel a mock-insulted look. “I’m not sure how I feel about you fantasizing about other men’s muscles.”
“I don’t fantasize about them,” she retorts. “I imagine you in the scene. Because you’re way better than any of the heroes in the books.”
Oh.
“Haze.” Mindful of the bags of breakable ornaments on each arm, I hug her carefully. “I love you.”
She loops her arms around my neck and kisses me. “I love you, too.”
As I meet her gaze, my heart stops. Rolls over. Squeezes.
I never imagined love could feel like this.
I never imagined it could be so incredible.
With one more quick kiss, Hazel steps out of my hug and heads to the back of the truck. “I’ll grab the deer,” she says, “if you want to stick the bags inside. Then I can help you get the tree out.”
“Hazel.” My tone is gently scolding. “You’re not carrying the tree. It’s too heavy. I’ll take care of it.”
“Alec. I carry trays full of beer. Plus dishwasher racks and buckets of ice. I think I can handle half a tree.”
“Maybe so.” I start heading towards the front porch, but look back over my shoulder to add, “But just because you can doesn’t mean you should. I like taking care of things for you.”
Hazel smiles. “Well, when you put it that way…”
“Right.” Once I reach the porch, I unlock the front door and set the bags just inside it.
As I’m turning around to head back outside, my phone chimes with a security alert.
It’s the signal I always get when someone turns onto the driveway, which doesn’t happen often considering the relative isolation of my property.
I might get a handful of visits each week; most of them from the UPS delivery guy or the mailman with a package.
Still, I like to check. So I pull my phone from my pocket to check the video feed. To my surprise, it’s not a delivery. Or one of my friends stopping by for a spontaneous visit. It’s a car I don’t recognize.
Alarm shoots through me, bringing along a surge of adrenaline.
My stomach jumps.
There’s no reason to assume a problem, I tell myself as I watch the blue sedan inch its way up the driveway. Someone might be lost. Or the mail truck could have broken down and Dorothy, the mail carrier, could be using her own vehicle.
But.
There’s something in my gut that tells me differently. That tells me something is wrong.
“Hazel.” My voice sharpens.
Hazel sets down the deer she’s carrying and turns to me with concern in her eyes. “Alec? What’s wrong?”
“Come here,” I say. There’s a rough edge to my tone. Well aware that this could be nothing, I add gently, “Please. Can you come over here?”
She frowns, but starts walking towards me. “What’s going on?”
“Just come here,” I repeat. “Faster. Okay?”
Fear flashes across her face. “Did you see something? Did someone call?”
“No.” As soon as Hazel’s within arm’s reach, I pull her to me, feeling marginally better to have her back in my arms. “No one called. But someone’s coming up the driveway. And I’m not sure who it is. So I need you to go inside. Now.”
She stiffens. “Alec.” A quiver tugs at her voice.
“Go.” I push her resisting body through the doorway. “Lock the door behind you. And if you hear me whistle, I want you to call Enzo. Right away.”
“Alec, no.” She grabs my wrist and tries to tug me inside along with her. “Come inside with me. Please.”
“It’s fine, sweetheart. Just go inside. I’m just going to find out who it is. It’s probably nothing—”
“Then I want to stay with you. What if you need help? What if—”
“Haze.” Urgency makes my tone rougher than intended. “Go. Inside. Now.”
Hazel stares at me for a second. Her chin wobbles. Then she says, “I’m getting your other gun. And I’m waiting right inside the door. If you need—”
“Okay.” I give her a little shove, then yank the door closed behind her. “Lock the door,” I call after her. “Stay inside.”