“She would, and she does. Lindsey is like her dad, through and through.”
He glances over at me and smiles. “I think she’s a lot like you too.”
We pull onto my road, and I see the glow of a massive light display up ahead.
“Oooh, I wonder whose lights those are,” I say. “They must have just put them out. I thought I’d seen everyone’s decorations on this street.”
Ron doesn’t say anything as we approach my house, bringing the lights closer and closer into view.
“Wow. That’s beautiful. Whose houseisth—” I cut myself off with a gasp when I finally see the source of the holiday cheer. “That’smyhouse.”
Ron pulls into my driveway as I shake my head in bewilderment.
“What on earth?” I press my fingers to my open mouth as we climb out of the car, and he follows me as I walk toward the middle of the yard so I can take it all in.
“How? Who could have done this?” I ask, the corners of my eyes stinging. “It couldn’t have been the kids because they would’ve had to do it while I’ve been with you, and there’s no way they could have finished something like this in that amount of time.”
Ron chuckles, curling an arm around my shoulders. “It was Oliver. He called and told me about his plan because he wanted to make sure I was still picking you up.”
I have no words as I stare ahead at my perfect gingerbread house. I blink rapidly, my vision becoming a viewfinder of the past. Each time my eyes close, there’s a flash of Henry and me, standing in this very spot with the kids whose tiny faces are tipped back in awe. It was beautiful then, and it’s beautiful now.
“Of course it was,” I say, unable to stop smiling. “That precious boy.”
“He really outdid himself, didn’t he?”
“Did he ever.” Laughter bubbles out of me as I loop my arm through Ron’s and start up the walk.
With every step, I notice something new. The giant lollipops that stand out from behind the shrubs, the snowman that tips his hat, and the way the hundreds, if not thousands, of lights on the roof twinkle like a starry night sky.
“This couldn’t have been a more perfect night,” I say as we climb the porch steps.
But standing with Ron in the soft glow of the Christmas lights, I know that’s not entirely true. There is one thing that could make it even more special, only I’m not sure I have the guts to do it.
Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of something green hanging above the center of the doorframe:mistletoe. Maybe it’s a sign. Or maybe Oliver knew exactly what he was doing when he put it there. Either way, it’s the push I need.
“Actually, now that I think of it, there is something that could make it better.”
“What’s that?” he asks.
I don’t say a word, I don’t overthink. To be honest, I’m not even sure I’m breathing when I close the distance between us, take his face in my hands, and kiss him.
23
LINDSEY
“Beckett,”says Joe, the fire marshal, patting Oliver on the back and taking a swig of his beer. “Good thing you’re better at being a firefighter than you are at playing pool.”
Oliver gets a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Or maybe I’ve been letting you win because you’re my boss.”
“Guess we’ve got to play another round and find out,” Joe says with a wink. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse us.”
Oliver leans down to kiss me on the cheek before they head back to the vacant pool table.
We watched the game on the big screens at Snappy’s, and at halftime, Oliver and the guys decided to hit the pool table. Their buddies Martinez, Sanders, and his girlfriend tapped out after the Green Bay Packers won, leaving me and Joe’s wife, Tessa, sitting at a table nearby, munching on the remainder of the cinnamon dessert pizza we ordered somewhere around game three.
“Oh no. The trash talking has begun.” Tessa turns back toward me, shaking her head. “Joe has a bit of a competitive streak, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Really?” I tilt my head to the side, feigning surprise as the guys start their sixth game. “I never would have guessed.”
