Page 27 of Suddenly Mine
“Wow,” she said again.
“See?” Christian nodded, watching her face more than the lights. “This evening is going to be edible Christmas therapy.”
He gestured ahead, and together they strolled down the main path, winding between stalls and waving fairy lights. Just ahead, the ice rink stretched out in the centre of the village, ringed by benches and glowing trees.
“Corn dogs, cheesesteaks or raclette?” he asked casually as they passed a booth selling miniature ornaments shaped like pickles and tiny sushi rolls.
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re giving me a choice?”
“This is serious business,” he said. “Festive reawakening must be done properly.”
Merry smiled, her cheeks pink from the cold.
They paused at the edge of the rink, watching the skaters loop and spin and cling to the sides. One kid fell spectacularly, then immediately broke into laughter. His dad helped him up, steadying him by the elbows before they set off again together.
“I used to love skating,” Merry said softly, leaning against the railing. “Haven’t done it in years. Last time I went I got taken out by a guy doing a triple spin and landed flat on my back. Very festive.”
Christian winced in sympathy. “I once tried to impress a girl in high school by skating backwards in front of her. Wiped out, took her down with me, and broke her phone with my knee.”
Merry snorted. “You’re really bad at impressing women, huh?”
“I’ve gotten better,” he said, nudging her shoulder with his own. “I hope.”
“I’ll let you know at the end of the night.” Merry didn’t seem to see the effect her words had on Christian, or if she did she was playing it cool. “You know this market is like a celebrity in its own right? Every year I say I’m going to come see it, and every year I get too busy or too cold or too—”
“Grinchy?”
She gave him a playful glare. “Did you just say grinchy?”
“Might have.” He smirked. “But I was right, yeah?”
She shook her head, but she was smiling. “Maybe a little.”
He tilted his head towards her. “On a scale of one to Whoville, how grinchy are we talking?”
“Mid-grinch,” she admitted.
“Let’s aim for full Cindy Lou Who by midnight.”
A violinist on the corner began playing a slow, lilting version of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ and, for a moment, everything around them hushed. They stood there, quietly, wrapped in the twinkle and hum of the city. Skaters spun below them, laughter echoing up from the rink, and the lights overhead seemed to pulse in time with the music.
Merry gave a little sigh, one that misted softly in the air.
“I know it’s cheesy,” she said, “but it’s kind of perfect, isn’t it?”
They lingered a moment longer, soaking in the music, the laughter, the slice of skates against ice. Then the wind brought a new wave of mouthwatering scent from down the path.
“Okay, my stomach is screaming at me, and that cheesesteak place smells insane,” Merry said, eyes bright.
Christian’s grin widened. “Excellent choice.”
The line for the truffle cheesesteaks wasn’t short, but neither of them minded. The smells were intoxicating and, as they waited, Merry leaned casually against Christian’s side, making him hyper-aware of every point of contact.
“This might be the best decision I’ve made all week,” she murmured, watching a staffer behind the counter shovel grilled onions on to a bun.
Christian glanced at her, the string lights casting a golden glow across her cheeks. “I’d like it noted for the record that I brought you here.”
“Oh, you want credit already?”