“Jeez, I didn’t think of that.” He brightened. “Let’s go back to your place instead.”
“No.” I left no doubt of my opinion of that idea. The thought of Kai in my space, stroking Boots, wanting to talk to me, and all that sexiness right close to my bedroom. Not happening.
“Okay, so let’s just go for a walk.” He disappeared out of the kitchen, and then came back with our coats, hats, scarves, and gloves, plus holding our boots. “Come on.”
“I really need to go back and—”
“I’ll do the light check with you. Come on.” He was already layering up, and on automatic pilot, I did the same thing.
We walked the route of the Parade of Light in reverse, starting at the fountain, and moving through the market. It was empty right now, but out of instinct I headed to my stall, the one right at the back in a quiet corner, and checked the door was locked. Not that I kept stock in there, but the inside was all decorated ready for Sunday, and what I’d done in there meant something to me.
The market was a busy three weeks, taking everyone up to the Sunday before Christmas, and the artists who took stalls sold everything from ceramics, to cakes, chutneys, and jams, all the way through to Christmas trees.
“Are you ready for the market?” Kai squeezed my hand. He hadn’t let go of it since we’d left Mom’s place, and I didn’t know whether to yank mine away, or just revel in the fact my hand was warm in his pocket. We were close as family friends, but holding hands was on another level. We passed the diner, but I noticed Kai pulled his hat lower and crossed the road, probably so he wasn’t recognized after I’d reminded him that he was easily spotted in a diner that was all about hockey. Next on the parade route was my workshop, and I was proud that it stood out with ropes of lights that curled and spun from window to window, not to mention the big Douglas fir in the yard to the side that I decorated every year with unique themes. This year’s was the color red, and there was everything from painted poinsettias to tinsel garlands. One year, I’d love to decorate the tree with ornaments I’d made from my semi-precious stones, but I was lucky to have any time left after filling orders and creating stock for the market.
The walk took us up past the fire and police station, then to the church, and there was a sharp contrast between the two.
“There’s always such a gap between them.” Kai nodded at the volunteer fire station, a small place covered in inflatable Christmas characters, then at the church with a traditional nativity no more than five steps from the nearest grinning Santa. I wasn’t one for going into the church, but I knew that inside it would be a riot of Christmas flowers, courtesy of my mom and the rest of the town’s flower committee.
“I love the next one,” I said after a short pause, and we stopped outside the community center. The school was behind, and the kids had gone all out with an army of snowmen, brightly colored and with sparkles on their hats reflecting the lights strung outside.
“I wonder what this year’s school theme is,” Kai deadpanned, as he stared at a huge snowman, taller than him, constructed using plastic bottles. “Recycling maybe?”
“Yeah, it’s good.”
We stared at it for a while as the lights cycled through a couple of rainbow color rotations, then carried on past Mom and Dad’s gift store. I was just as proud of that place as I was of my own because I’d overseen making it look like Santa’s grotto, complete with signs and Santa sitting outside in a specially constructed shed under the awning. The Gift Emporium was everything to everyone who visited—postcards, souvenirs, a display of my art, and paintings from Drew Gantry, our mayor who was also a talented artist. There were sweets, and books, and drinks, and at this time of year, Christmas trinkets, decorations, cards, and paper were in every nook and cranny.
Lucas and Duncan both worked in there, happily taking on the roles of gift emporium inheritors. All four of us were involved though, with me supplying stock when needed, and both Callum and I covering shifts when needed.
“I love this place,” Kai said, and tugged me to a stop. He peered through the frosted windows, lit from within by the glow of a thousand LED lights. Everything would turn off automatically at eleven, but right now, the town was still busy with tourists, and I spotted Lucas inside serving a customer. At this time of year, the Emporium stayed open late, and our motto was that we never turned away a tourist.
The customer left, and Kai took his chance to slip inside, still holding my hand. I tried to tug it free before Lucas noticed but, no, I wasn’t quick enough. He grinned at Kai, then at me, and then his mouth fell open when he saw my hand in Kai’s pocket. I yanked it hard, but all that did was bring Kai’s hand out as well, so we were standing in Christmas heaven, holding hands, with my brother, Kai’s best friend, staring at us as if we had two heads.
“Uhmmm,” he began with no coherency.
This time, I managed to tug my hand free. “Lost my glove,” I said, and he smirked. “My hand was cold,” I added.
Lucas bit his lip to stop laughing when Kai thrust the missing glove at me.
Kill me now.
“What can I do for you?” Lucas asked, leaning on the counter, and staring at us.
“I decorated Mom’s tree,” I blurted, and then side-eyed Kai.
“I’ll take some of the Christmas fudge you have here.” Kai leaned on the other side of the counter, and the two idiot friends stared at each other.
“What the hell?” Lucas asked, and this time the smirk had turned more serious.
“What?” Kai asked.
“For real?”
“Yeah.” Kai grinned, and Lucas glanced at me with a concerned expression.
“And he’s okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
It took me a few seconds, but then I realized they were having some kind of posturing bro-conversation about me. That was so not happening. No one needed to check with anyone’s brother if it was okay to hold my damn hand. I huffed loudly, and headed for the glass cabinet holding my jewelry, unlocking the small drawer beneath, and replenishing the display.
“This is beautiful.” Kai picked up a spinner, a small ornament set on thin wire that spun in any breeze as someone passed. It was garnet and red coral, interspersed with ice-colored crystals, and he picked it up and held it up before blowing on it. The ornament spun from the wire, catching the lights in the store, and casting a rainbow around us. “I’ll have this one,” he said.
“You don’t need to.” I was mortified that he might be buying it only because I was standing there.
“But I want to. And these ones,” he said, and picked out two more of the spinners, adding a large wireframe angel that I’d made and twisted with a ton of tiny crystals. I mentally added up what he’d bought, and it must’ve been over four hundred dollars, and I opened my mouth to say something, and then shut it again because this was our family business, and I knew he must have a ton of money. Even if he was buying the stuff out of a sense of obligation, money was money.
“I always buy every year,” he explained as he laid them on the counter, and Lucas, despite being a clumsy idiot about most other things, wrapped each item in tissue paper with the greatest care.