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Myparentsplannedtoput together a ginormous jigsaw puzzle that my aunt’s new boyfriend brought on Christmas Eve, and Nicholas’ were having a huge family dinner. The truth of the matter was that neither Nicholas nor I wanted to attend either. We’d waited so long to come back to each other, and call me selfish, but I wanted him all to myself. He felt the same.
I didn’t even need to ask him, I felt it through our bond. His wolf roared to the surface each time someone got too close to me. I had held his hand in a vise grip all throughout our meal to keep him from lunging across the table at his cousins.
Getting out of both family events had been easy. I told my family that we would be back for Christmas morning and over to Nicholas’ family lunch, and that we’d play dinner by ear. Nicholas’ family cut him off before he could tell them a thing, directing him to get his ass out of there and to take his mate with him. They understood the ways of newly mated couples. They also sent cupcakes, deviled eggs, and chicken wings with us. It was the oddest combination ever, but I wasn’t going to complain. I liked them all—more than liked them.
I had a feeling we would need the protein.
“Hey, did your family make these specifically for us—me?” I turned on the ignition.
“Probably.” He shrugged as he clipped in his seatbelt. “They’re excited you’re part of the family now. Finding your fated mate is something to celebrated above all else.”
“How do you think they knew about my love of deviled eggs?”
He started to tell me, but his laughter had none of it making any sense.
“Want to try that again?” I pulled out of the driveway.
“I tried to make you the eggs for your birthday one year and—I didn’t know you couldn’t microwave whole eggs.”
“Your mom must’ve flipped when that exploded.” I was pretty sure that was how that worked. I half remembered something in science about that.
“She did, but then she found out why I wanted to make them and took me to the store to buy a hoodie with Mario on it.”
“I still have that sweatshirt.” It was a bit tight now, but I wasn’t about to let it go. “And for the record, I’d have loved the deviled eggs, too.”
“I was taken off microwave privileges for a month and was given the don’t-even-pretend-to-ask-me-that look from Mom when I started to ask about boiling the eggs.”
“It was probably safest.” We drove past a sign for Santa’s Village in the town square, with big bold letters saying they were open on Christmas eve.
“You know what that Santa thing is?” I asked. It had been years since I had been in town for the holidays, and I couldn’t recall something as elaborate as Santa’s village being an activity.
“They set it up by the town Christmas tree. Want to go? Cocoa and Santa and sing alongs and crafters. It’s a lot of fun. I’ve gone with my mom before.”
“So it’s basically a Hallmark movie in real life?”
“Exactly!”
I was all in. Christmas was already panning out to be the most magical one of my entire life, why not add more Christmas traditions and cliches to the mix? It sounded like a good time to me. I wanted to be wherever Nicholas was, and we had a lot of time to make up for. So many Christmas memories to make.
There were a surprising number of people walking around when we arrived. I had assumed most people would be back home with their families. I had assumed wrong.
We had to park fairly far away, which worked for me. It gave me a longer walk with Nicholas, our hands joined together. Even with the freshly fallen snow, it wasn’t particularly cold, which was nice.
“When did the town start doing this?” I’d have been all over it as a kid.
“A few years, I guess. What do you want to do first?” We stopped at the huge information bulletin board someone had made.
“Is that a hot cocoa food truck?” I pointed to the map.
“Nope. That’s three hot cocoa food trucks. Wanna?”
I squeezed his hand. “Probably too much.”
Sure enough, there were three food trucks. One specialized in homemade marshmallows, one imported international hot cocoas, and the third featured different kinds of chocolates. I wanted all of them and hoped that they had small sizes so I could try them all.
“I had no idea hot cocoa could be this complicated.” I leaned into his side. “I bet you know where I’m getting mine first.”
“Marshmallows or bust.” He was spot on. I’d always been a lover of all things marshmallow gooeyness.
