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A bitter chuckle escaped me.What an ass,I thought to myself, not proud of my obliviousness.
It was strange to think that someone who had recently become so important to me had been in my periphery all along, just a stone's throw away. It was humbling and a little embarrassing, but also exciting. As I parked my truck and made my way to her front door, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of familiarity.
Jude’s home was the embodiment of charm—quaint and nestled snugly within the heart of our shared neighborhood. It had an idyllic, cottage-like appeal with its rustic red bricks and white-trimmed windows, smaller than my place but radiating an inviting warmth. As I approached, Jude opened the door and stepped out, looking gorgeous as she always did. Sadie ran to her side, panting eagerly at the sight of me.
“Come on in,” she said. “Just finished tidying.”
As I stepped inside, I found myself enveloped in a cozy embrace of comfort. A myriad of Christmas lights twinkled from every corner, casting a warm, enticing glow that illuminated the pleasing interior. The living room was tastefully decorated in shades of cream and earthy browns, accents of reds and greens punctuating the space with festive cheer.
A towering Christmas tree, decked out in shimmering baubles, dominated one corner of the living room. Its fairy lights cast dancing shadows across the room, adding to the enchanting atmosphere. Garlands of ivy and holly were gracefully draped over the mantle, their dark green leaves contrasting against the flickering fire beneath.
A cluster of stockings hung cheerily by the hearth, their plush, red fabric set off by the golden firelight. On the coffee table, an intricate nativity scene held pride of place, and on the side table, I noticed a miniature snow globe village that twinkled under the soft room lighting.
The exterior was rather bare in comparison, lacking the festive spirit that permeated the inside.
“Decorations look amazing,” I said, taking in the sights.
“Thanks. Might be a little corny, but I love Christmas stuff.”
"Not corny at all. But I have to ask… why's the outside bare?" The contrast had sparked my curiosity.
She seemed surprised by my question, and a light blush tinted her cheeks. "Oh, I was going to hire someone to decorate but just haven't gotten around to it yet."
I eyed the bare exterior through the window then turned back to her with a grin. "How about I help you with that?"
She shook her head quickly, her curls bouncing with the motion. "Oh no, that's not necessary. You're a guest, Tony. You're not supposed to work."
I shrugged casually, the grin still in place. "Consider it a second date."
Her eyebrows shot up at that, and she laughed. "Second date? We haven't even had a first one."
Without missing a beat, I lifted the deli bag in my hand and pointed at hers on the kitchen counter. "We're about to," I stated, the cocky smile never leaving my face.
Shaking her head, she let out a warm, hearty laugh. "Tony Montivais, you're a sneaky bastard."
"I try," I replied, winking at her and loving the warm flush that spread across her cheeks. Her house might've been beautifully decorated, but nothing outshone Jude's radiant smile.
Chapter 17
Jude
We sat comfortably at my kitchen table, the aromatic scent of our deli sandwiches mixing with the piney scent of my indoor Christmas decorations. Tony, ever so charming, was in the middle of a hilarious story about one of his past Christmas escapades.
"Well," he started, leaning back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "One Christmas, I must've been about twelve or thirteen, my aunt decided she'd spice up our traditional festivities by introducing this little game she calledLos Doce Desastres de Navidad—The Twelve Disasters of Christmas. She was always something of an oddball. But in a fun sort of way.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued and stifling a giggle at the grin spreading across Tony's face and the twinkle in his eye. "And what exactly did these disasters entail?"
"Well, she assigned each of us kids a disaster drawn from a hat. Mine was unruly reindeer. So, I got this brilliant idea," he continued, unable to hide the pride in his voice. "I'd borrowed a couple of my dad's reindeer decorations from the front yard. Life-sized plastic things with lights inside, you know?"
I nodded, chuckling as I imagined a young Tony lugging the decorations around.
"Come Christmas Eve," he went on, "I sneak these reindeer up to the roof. Imagine, if you will, a tiny Tony trying to haul two life-sized lit-up reindeer up a ladder in the middle of the night."
My chuckles turned into full-blown laughter, picturing the scene. His storytelling was so vivid; I felt like I was right there, a silent observer of his childhood shenanigans.
"Anyway, I managed to get them up there somehow without waking the whole house, and I positioned them to look like they were about to take off from the roof. Then, I ran some string from them to a sack of presents I'd made up. Then all I had to do was wait for morning."
"And?" I prompted, my sandwich forgotten, my full attention on Tony’s story.
