“Merry Christmas,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek softly before being tackled around the legs by an enthusiastic seven-year-old.
“Lincoln! Lincoln! Mom made me wait to open presents until you got here, but I’ve been up since six and I don’t think I can wait much longer!” Katie announced dramatically.
“Well, we certainly can’t have that,” Lincoln said with mock seriousness. “Emergency present opening is definitely required, stat. But first,” he continued, and Imogen noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes that she couldn’t quite interpret, “I have something special for your mom.”
“More special than regular presents?” Katie asked with interest.
“Much more special than regular presents,” Lincoln confirmed, although he was looking at Imogen rather than Katie as he spoke.
“What are you up to?” Imogen asked suspiciously, recognizing that expression from their teenage years. It was the same look he’d worn when he’d surprised her with tickets to the opening night of a show she’d wanted to see, or shown up at her house with pizza when she’d been stressed about college applications.
He reached behind his back and produced a glossy magazine, holding it out to Imogen with obvious pride. “Merry Christmas fromSweet Confections.”
Imogen’s hands flew to her mouth as she saw the cover—a gorgeous photograph of her chocolate sculpture, displayed prominently under theSweet Confectionsname above it.
“Oh my goodness,” she breathed, reaching out to take the magazine. “It’s real. It’s actually real.”
“Nolan dropped one off this morning.” Lincoln grinned. “As soon as I heard they were featuring you, I had to subscribe. I thought you said they wouldn’t run it for a while.”
“I thought so too,” Imogen said, still staring. “They must have loved the holiday angle so much they decided to do it early. This is—oh my gosh. Thank you!” She threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek before stepping back to take in the cover again.
She flipped it open to the feature article, unable to keep herself from starting to read out loud. The piece was even better than she’d hoped—Whitney had managed to take all of her excited answers and put them together into a cohesive piece that talked about how Imogen had gotten started, her path to opening her own store, and all of the reasons she loved chocolate and owning her own shop so much.
And then she reached the part where she’d talked about the sculpture, and the reasons behind it. Whitney had really loved the high school sweethearts angle, she realized, and how Lincoln had inspired her idea. She swallowed hard, unsure of what he’d think of it.
“What’s wrong?” Lincoln asked, peering over her shoulder. “Why did you stop reading?”
“It’s nothing,” Imogen said quickly, trying to close the magazine, but Lincoln was too fast for her.
“Come on,” he said, reaching for it with a grin. “It can’t be that bad. Let me see what’s got you so flustered.”
“Lincoln, no!” Imogen protested, but he was already grabbing for the magazine.
What followed was, Imogen thought, the most undignified wrestling match in Christmas morning history. Both of them were tugging at the magazine, while Katie collapsed into giggles beside them. Imogen was laughing despite her embarrassment, trying to grab it back while Lincoln held it just out of her reach.
“Give it back!” she demanded, making one last lunge for the magazine.
“Not until I see what’s got you so worked up,” Lincoln replied, successfully extracting the magazine from her grasp and holding it high above his head while she tried unsuccessfully to climb over him to reach it.
“This is so unfair,” Imogen panted, collapsing against the couch cushions in defeat. “You have an unfair height advantage.”
“All’s fair in love and magazine wrestling,” Lincoln said cheerfully, opening the publication to the section she’d been trying to hide.
Imogen watched his face anxiously as his eyes scanned the page, realizing the exact moment when he found the part that had made her panic. His expression shifted from playful amusement to something softer as he read Whitney’s words.
“He’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever known—patient and funny and incredibly intelligent,” Lincoln read aloud as Imogen’s face turned red. “He has this way of making you feel like whatever you’re passionate about is the most important thing in the world.” He looked up at her, his eyes suddenly brighter than usual. “You said that? About me? About how I help with Katie, and how you feel when you’re at the rink? And I really inspired…” He broke off, looking at her, and Imogen bit her lip.
“I might have gotten a little carried away,” she said softly. “I guess I started talking and just… couldn’t stop.”
“Imogen,” Lincoln said softly, setting the magazine aside and reaching for her hands, “this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me.”
“You’re not embarrassed?” she asked hopefully.
“Embarrassed?” Lincoln repeated, looking genuinely confused. “Why would I be embarrassed? You told a national magazine that I’m kind and intelligent and supportive. I think I’m going to frame this and hang it in my office at the rink.”
“Really?” Imogen’s eyes widened, and he grinned.
“Absolutely,” he promised, and then he leaned in and kissed her.
