“That was nice of you to offer to clean up the gingerbread house mess.” I lean against the kitchen counter. “I’m guessing the winner doesn’t usually do that.”
She dries her hands off on a kitchen towel. “Well, Erika seemed upset about losing, and I knew you’d help me clean if I offered, so it wasn’t a big deal.”
It’s time to bring up the Christmas gifts she mailed before we move on to the next activity. “So since my mom can’t remember her favorite band, I guess the vinyl I got her for Christmas isn’t going to be a big hit after all.”
Lacee shakes her head. “Yeah, I don’t think it is.”
“I should’ve gotten her a scarf like you.”
“If I remember correctly, you said the scarf I bought for my mom was a lame present.”
“I absolutely did not say that.”
“You did.” She smirks.
“I don’t think I’ve used the wordlamein that context since fifth grade.”
A small puff of laughter spills out of her. “Okay, maybe you didn’t say it that way, but you did imply it wasn’t thoughtful.”
“Well, now I want to trade you. My vinyl record for the purple scarf.” I push off the counter and head to the Christmas tree. “Has the gift come in the mail yet?”
Lacee follows after me. “Yeah, it came yesterday.”
I crouch down by the wrapped presents. “Which one is it?”
“You can’t have my mom’s present.” She kneels beside me. “Get your own generic scarf.”
“Oh, come on!” I flip through the boxes until I find the tag that says,To: Mom, From: Lacee. It’s a fairly small gift, about the size of a book. “Here we go.”
The second I pick up the present, Lacee reaches for it. “Like I said, get your own scarf.”
I pull my arm back. “I’ll trade you straight across. The record for the purple scarf.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Besides, your mom lives in an assisted living center. When is she going to wear a scarf? She doesn’t even go outside.” She reaches for the box again, but I quickly transfer it to my other hand.
“When is she going to listen to a vinyl record? She doesn’t have a record player there.”
“Well, that’s on you. You're the one who picked a dumb gift.”
Lacee’s lips lift into one of her trademark mischievous smiles. Both her hands go to my chest, and she pushes hard, sending me off balance. I fall backward, landing on my butt. Before I know what’s happening, Lacee’s on top of me, wrestling me for the gift.
It’s the best form of wrestling I’ve ever done. There’s so much physical body contact. It’s like I’ve died and gone to hot redhead heaven.
I roll our bodies over, pinning her on her back. My body rests on top of hers, and our faces are a few inches apart.
My mouth curls into a cocky grin. “Did you really think you could beat me in a wrestling match?”
She raises her chin in boldness. “Iletyou win.”
A glimmer in her blue eyes says she really believes that. You gotta love her spirit. Nothing beats a confident woman.
“Fine.” I brush a stray lock of hair from off her cheek. “You can keep the scarfif,” my smile grows, “you let me take you out for a late lunch.”
“Right now?” Her brows jump.
“Do you have something better to do?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing better comes to mind.”
