“Another storm’s on the way. At this rate, we’re looking at two more days with shut roads, easy.”
I inhale, scrubbing at my plate with extra elbow grease. “And the worse news?”
Gavin’s chair legs scrape against the wooden floor. “It’ll be another day at least before we’ll be able to clear the driveway and make it out of here, so for the time being, you’re stuck with me.”
I shut the water off and look over my shoulder. Gavin’s directly behind me, his ice-blue eyes pinned to mine with trepidation. It’s a little embarrassing that I’ve made this kind of an impression on him. Eternal Sunshine was worried about how I would take the news that we have to spend the entire day in just one another’s company.
I’m officially a Scrooge.
Luna wouldneverbelieve it. I’m about as Christmas elf-y as they come. My apartment is decorated for Christmas by mid-November—much to the dismay of my roommate—and I’mblasting holiday music well before it’s socially acceptable. I make friends with almost everyone, yet somehow I’ve made this man believe I fall in line with the Christmas grumps of the world. It’s horrifying. I’m slightly ashamed.
Snow falls on the other side of the large kitchen window, and aside from how awful it is for keeping my sister away, it is a magnificent sight to behold. I have to turn this around somehow.
Lifting a shoulder, I throw a shrug at him. “No worries.”
Gavin’s eyebrow rises.
“Really,” I say. “Put me to work. If we’re going to be stuck here, waiting for everyone to arrive, we might as well make the most of it, right?”
He looks at me with trepidation. “What do you have in mind?”
“Christmas decorations. Do you have any, or do we need to make them?”
“I have some, but we don’t make a big thing of Christmas, mind. It’s Hogmanay we care about in my family.”
“Hog-a-what?”
He doesn’t bother repeating it. “New Year’s Day. First-footing. Midnight parties with all your family and friends?”
“Never heard of it.”
Gavin mutters something incoherent under his breath, but I catch the wordAmericans.
“We can string popcorn if we have to, but we need to decorate for Christmas insomeway. In the States, we care about the tree and the garland and the way it makes you feel to have your home dressed up for the holidays. If we’re stuck inside, we might as well get the house ready before everyone else arrives.”
“People do that here too,” he says defensively. “But I’ve never bothered to worry about it much before Christmas Eve. We have some decorations, but we mostly just put up a tree and call ourselves satisfied.”
“Well, that’s not going to cut it.” I put the clean dishes in the drying rack and wipe my hands on a dish towel. “Come on. Show me your decorations, and I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”
Gavin grins. “You’ll want to find your snow boots for this.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
CALLIE
The boxesof garland and ornaments are tucked away in the loft of a small stone outbuilding. I want to call it a shed, but in my experience, sheds are built from wood and meant to keep bikes and lawn mowers out of the rain. This little building looks like it was put together by men wearing kilts five hundred years ago before they went hunting for their dinner in preparation for clan warfare.
We’ve found two Christmas boxes so far, neither of them very large, both of them extremely dusty. I’m beginning to wonder if Gavin’s hiding a secret Scrooge beneath his Ted Lasso veneer.
“You alright for one more?” Gavin asks, his voice muffled by the box in his arms.
I hurry around the piles of junk and reach toward him. “Load me up.”
This box is significantly heavier than the last two. I take it with anoofand head back toward the door while Gavin climbs down from the loft ladder. He swoops the box from my hands. I’d complain and say I’m fine to carry it, but my arms are grateful.
“What’s in there anyway?” I ask.
“Just baubles.”
