Chapter 6
~ AVA ~
I’m a Christmas fanatic, ninety percent of the time.
It’s impossiblenotto be around here.Annapolis is one of those towns that looks like a Norman Rockwell painting at this time of year.
Or Thomas Kinkade if that’s more your jam.
It’s hardnotto catch the Spirit in a place where people decorate their boats with gleaming festive lights and put on a nighttime boat parade on Spa Creek that really should be on everyone’s bucket list.Or in a town where lampposts are adorned with garlands and red ribbons, storefronts boast fluffy pine wreaths, and cars are decorated with red noses and ridiculous antlers.
I happen to have a pair of antlers on my car, too.
So ninety percent of the time, I’m all about Christmas.
That other ten percent?Well, that’s another matter entirely.
Like today, when the harsh winter wind has kicked up, and I’m wishing I had a garage because my bags filled with blinking Rudolf noses for the caroling party have fallen to the ground and are blowing down my driveway toward a puddle of slush.
Then my neighbor, with all of his 210 pounds of solid muscle, runs toward me, slicing a line of footprints through our snow-covered yards.
Dashing through the snow, indeed.
He stoops to stop a nose from getting saturated with filthy slush.
“You seem to have lost your nose,” he says with a grin, picking up a few more as he makes a path toward me.
“Thanks,” I say, taking them.“I would’ve lost my job on the caroling committee if I didn’t show up with enough.”I press my lips together thoughtfully.“Come to think of it, that might have been a good thing.”
I swear I see him stiffen slightly at the mention of caroling.
I don’t blame him.Any of the renters next door have pretty much recoiled when I’d ask them if they’d join our group.We’re always desperate for male voices to round out our singers.
“Caroling committee?”he asks, clearly trying to wipe the sheer terror from his eyes.
I laugh.“Don’t worry.I gave up recruiting you Navy guys about two renters ago.And believe me, I catch hell from our community association for it.They practically pay a bounty if I can bring in a baritone.”
Relief touching his features, he chuckles.“I won’t tell you that I’m a baritone, then.”
I tuck in my chin.“It’s safer for you if you don’t.Besides, with the move you mentioned at dinner, then this is your last Christmas here, right?If you’ve dodged the bullet this long, why break your record?”
The sheepish grin he sends me in response is adorable.“I wanted to thank you again for the Christmas tree.You didn’t need to do that.”
I give a careless wave.“I kind of did.My conscience wouldn’t let me sleep if I knew my neighbor was lacking a tree.And neither would my son.Do you need ornaments for it?I have a whole box leftover that I couldn’t fit on our tree.You’re welcome to them.”
“Oh—no.You’ve already done enough for me.I was going to pick some up at Target.”
I cringe.“You think they’ll still have some in stock this late in the game?”Foolish, foolish man.
“They won’t?”
I suppress a cackle at his lack of knowledge about the state of retail stores right now.Obviously, this guy does all his shopping online.The only reason I was able to snag these noses is because I special ordered them a month ago.They’re the primo kind that blink in the rhythm of ten favorite Christmas carols—sure to be the smash hit of our caroling party this year.“Not anygoodornaments.”
He tilts his head like he’s thinking.I’m not sure why he’s hesitating unless he just really doesn’t want another reason to talk to me when he gives the ornaments back at the end of the season.
Am I that hard to take?
Then he surprises me completely by saying, “All right.I’ll pick them up later tonight.But only if you let me get you some dinner.I kind of owe you a good meal.”