Page 22 of Little Treat
“Of course,” I told them. “Luxury car service, to and from the event—or whenever you decide to leave.”
Mr. Cooper raised his glass. “I don’t like to remark on your relationships, Jamie,” he said. “But you should keep this one.”
I raised my glass as well. “Please do.”
12. JAMIE
Christmas dinner was a success, and we managed to get through the entire thing without anyone bringing up the fact that Logan worked for an NHL team. Well, we almost got through the entire thing since we were still sitting around the table when we started talking about those tickets Logan was giving my folks—and me.
I took Logan away from all the chaos, to my bedroom, but we couldn’t do anything in here, especially not with my family being around.
Logan lay back on the bed, rubbing his tummy over his T-shirt. It was fairly tight from all the food he’d managed to devour at the table, and I didn’t blame him, he was trying to make a good impression on my mom who was constantly asking how things were, so his mouth had stayed full constantly.
“This is your childhood room?” he asked as I joined him on the bed, staring up at the stars on the ceiling.
“Kinda. It was my sister’s room, but when she moved out, I got it,” I told him. “So, technically, it was mine throughout my early teens and stuff. My old room is smaller. We use it for storage now, and my mom’s sewing machine, because it’s so loud my dad wouldn’t let her keep in the dining room where it originally was.”
He laughed a little. I placed my hand over his on his belly and felt it shake. “Your bed is comfy,” he said. “I was thinking it would’ve been all lumpy with teddies.”
I scoffed, almost directly into his ear. “Not all littles are the same, you know.”
“I know, I know, but I just—” He picked his head up and guided my view to look at the pile of teddies on my bedroom floor spilling from the closet. There was definitely some formof truth to what he said, especially about the littles who were collectors—and yes, I was a collector. “Tell me I’m wrong, baby.”
My entire body tingled with it. His sweet words. “Baby,” I repeated. “I like it when you call me that.”
“You gotta be good to get one of those,” he said.
“I’m always good.”
“Of course you are.” He turned around on my bed and started to tickle me. “At least fifty percent of the time you’re good.”
“I’ll take that.”
“Jamie.” My mom’s voice came from behind the closed door. “Are you two coming out?”
Logan snorted. “I guess I am,” he said. “At least, I’m going to.”
“You don’t have to on account of me,” I said. “And you know she means out of the room.”
“I know, I just—” He pushed a kiss onto my forehead and then tipped my chin and kissed me on the lips. “We’re boyfriends now, according to that tick I left on the card.”
“It’s legally binding,” I told him.
“Mayor Rina is going to make a speech,” my mom continued. “You’ve never missed it before, Jamie.”
“We’re coming, Mom,” I said as Logan continued to tickle me until I was sitting upright.
My parents were arguing outside the bedroom door, my father encouraging her to leave us here alone. It wasn’t like they had to keep an eye on me, I wasn’t a teen, and I certainly wasn’t at risk of getting pregnant.
Each year, everyone—well, almost everyone in Snowflake Springs gathered around the middle of town where the Christmas tree was sparkling. It was usually surrounded by snowmen that had been built during some of the town’s events over the last couple of weeks. I never got involved in any of that.I was stuck behind the cash register or in the kitchen getting that well-needed practice with chocolate.
I’d neverbeenwith anyone at the event before, except family, but not someone I could hold hands with or cuddle up to for warmth. It was a new type of butterfly in my stomach, probably a rare one, like grabbing a Sublime teddy to unbox and finding the mystery one. I was lucky.
It was our version of what they did in the UK with their speech from the Queen—now the King. It was something we did every year, and I had fond memories about it. Each year the mayor would stand in front of the tree, and they would give these small presents out to the younger children. They weren’t expensive things, just small trinkets or toys. I always got theboy toy,which was a racecar usually or a figure on a skateboard you could push around. Again, only small things.
Standing a little further back because we’d been late, my mother was forgiving of us, but my father continued with his quiet, hostile staring and somewhat glared as he looked around and his eyes lingered on Logan. I wished I could’ve told him Dad was sweet, but he was strict, and my mother always said it came from the times he’d worked in kitchens as a pastry chef where they ran it liked he was in the armed forces.
None of that even mattered as I cuddled up beside Logan in our now matching Maple Kings beanies and scarves. We looked like the biggest fans and cutest couple, hands down, but they weren’t handing out awards for that.