Page 43 of Smokin' Hot (Smoke)


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“You want colored lights or white lights?” I asked her.

She frowned and stared at the tree. I could see the indecision on her face. This was a big deal for her. That fact alone made me want to put a damn tree in her room, on the porch, in the kitchen. Wherever the fuck I could find a place.

“You can do both. The ones I bought have a remote. You can do colored one day and white the next. Whatever you’re in the mood for. Just decide on what you want tonight.”

Her eyes widened as she looked at me. “Really? They do that?”

I nodded, feeling like a fucking genius for buying them.

“Colored tonight!” she said, smiling.

“Will it overwhelm you if I ask if you want them steady, chasing, blinking, or twinkling?”

She narrowed her eyes as she looked at me. “Is that something we can change too?”

“Yep.”

“Twinkling,” she said with a firm nod.

I plugged in the first strand and set her choices before starting to wrap them around the tree. I heard her laugh and glanced back to see that she was watching the television while putting dough on the cookie sheets. I tried not to keep looking at her, but it was hard every time she laughed. Eventually, I had the lights on, and the house smelled like pine and chocolate chip cookies.

“Do I need to do the hot cocoa?” I asked her, walking back to the kitchen area.

She shook her head. “I have it simmering now. The tree is beautiful,” she said, wistfully looking at it. “Where did you get the decorations?” she asked me.

“I went to Hobby Lobby,” I told her.

She grinned. “You went to Hobby Lobby and picked them out?”

I nodded. “Every last one.”

Her eyes softened as she laughed.

“What’s so funny? There were other men there.”

She pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry. It’s just … I can’t picture you going into a store like that and buying Christmas decorations.”

I shrugged. “I’m secure enough in my masculinity.”

She looked back at the television, still smiling. “Trust me, I know.”

What did that mean? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t. I was afraid where it might lead, and right now, I was doing a pretty damn good job of making her happy.

“You bought a lot,” she said. “You must have been there for hours.”

It had taken me two hours. “It’ll be worth it.”

She smiled. “Have you ever seen that tree in New York City they light up on that television special in person?”

I nodded. “My mom used to make me go on her Christmas shopping trips in New York City when I was a kid. I finally stopped having to go when I was fourteen. She still goes though.”

Haisley laughed softly. “That used to be my dream. I saw it on television one time when I was young. That and Macy’s. I wanted to see Macy’s at Christmas. It looked magical. There was also some bear—maybe it was a commercial. I can’t remember exactly. I was young. But it was a stuffed Christmas bear with Macy’s on one foot and the year on the other. I asked AJ to write a letter to Santa for me because I wanted that bear. I thought I’d give it a try. I didn’t want to believe Mom that Santa didn’t exist. My friends at school said Santa came to visit them. I figured he hadn’t come to see us because we didn’t write him letters or go see him at the mall. AJ refused though, and I know that it was to save me the disappointment, but at the time, I was so mad at him.” She shook her head, smiling, but there was a sadness in her eyes that I wanted to make go away.

“I don’t know why I thought of that. I think it’s because this tree is so big. It’s like I’m getting my very own New York City tree.”

Next Christmas, she was going to stand in Rockefeller Center and see that tree herself. She was also going to see Macy’s and shop, explore, whatever the hell she wanted.

“Let’s go get the ornaments ready. We need to cut tags off,” she said, sounding so fucking thrilled that it made my chest ache.

Again with the pure elation on her face, she hurried over to the bags. I owed Trev one.

Seventeen

Haisley

The man had just kidnapped his cousin’s boss as a Christmas present. I stopped hanging the red balls to laugh.

This movie was hilarious.

“Don’t drop it and cut yourself,” Saxon said, grinning at me. “Put the breakable ones up before you double over in laughter.”

“This move has the best one-liners,” I replied, then turned to hang up the glass red ball.

We were almost done with all the ornaments that Saxon had bought. I still couldn’t believe he’d done this. I wanted to believe he had done it for me, but I also didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment.

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