“You’re in charge. Let’s do this.”
Trick strung the lights and Stella supervised, telling him when they were off balance or where there was a gap. They worked well together, and, once the lights were up, they put the ornaments on, bumping into each other when they rounded the back of the tree.
“No, this one should go higher up,” she said, eyeing his placement.
“You’re crazy. There’s already a bunch up here. I’m putting it lower.”
She shook her head. “Too clustered. And you’re putting too many in the front. We need balance.”
“No one’s going to see the ones in the back anyway.”
She paused to look at him. “See, everyone thinks that, but it’s not true. The back of the tree should never be sparse. Ornaments should be evenly distributed.”
He took a step back. “I’m going to go grab something to drink and leave you in charge of finishing this up.”
She gave him a side eye. “Is this your way of making me finish the decorating?”
“Yup,” he said as he walked toward the kitchen. “Want some tea?”
“That sounds good.”
There weren’t that many ornaments left to be put on anyway, so she inspected the tree and decided where she wanted them to go and finished up, then walked back a few steps to inspect the tree from a distance, making sure there weren’t any gaps she’d missed. Satisfied, she put the lids on all the boxes.
“Where do you want these?” she asked as Trick came back with two glasses of tea.
He set the cups down on the table. “Let me takes those. I’ll put them in the spare bedroom closet.”
“I’ll help.”
They put all the boxes away, then came back into the living room. Stella picked up her tea and took a couple sips. Who knew tree decorating could make her so thirsty?
She sat on the sofa and admired the tree, then frowned. “Oh, the tree topper. We forgot that.”
“That’s right. Let me go get it.”
He set his cup down and went into the other room and came back with a box. “I think you’re going to like this.”
“It’s a hockey player, isn’t it?”
He stilled, his hands on the lid. “There are hockey player tree toppers? How did I not know this?”
She laughed. “I don’t know if there are or not. I just figured that would be appropriate for your tree.”
“It’s not really my tree, Stella. It’s your tree.”
Her heart squeezed. “What?”
“You wanted this tree. It’s for you. So’s the topper. Close your eyes.”
“Trick.”
He gave her a look. “Close your eyes.”
“Fine.”
She shut her eyes and waited. And thought. Her tree? This was his apartment, not hers. So it most definitely was not her Christmas tree.
“You can look now.”
She opened her eyes, and lifted her gaze to the top of the tree.
And gasped. She set her tea down and got up, went over to the tree and tilted her head back.
There, on his tree top, was a beautiful blonde ballerina, dressed in pink tulle, her hands in artful grace, her toes en pointe. She was twirling around in circles, with the “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” from The Nutcracker playing.
She was mesmerized. She’d danced to this music, back when she danced ballet. The memories it evoked were thick, reminded her why she loved to dance. And the dancing angel? Breathtaking.
“This? Really? So not a guy’s tree topper.”
He looked up at it, then at her. “She reminds me of you with her short blonde hair and her blue eyes and that froufrou dancing outfit, even though I know that’s not what you wear. But still, I saw it and thought of you and thought she’d be perfect for the tree.”
Her heart was crumbling at his feet. Goddamn him for doing this to her, for making her feel things she hadn’t wanted to feel for a man. Not ever again.
Hell, she’d never felt this way about any man before.
She lifted her gaze to his. “It’s beautiful. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“You’re welcome. Now, that wasn’t too painful, was it?”
He had no idea. “I guess not. Are you sure your friends won’t make fun of you when they see it?”
He laughed. “They probably will, but I think I can take the heat.”
She stared up at the dancing angel again. “I love her.”
He wasn’t looking at the angel, but at her. “So do I.”
Inhaling on a shaky breath, she said, “Well. What now?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me.”
“Now we go out and play in the snow.”
“You are out of your ever-loving mind. It’s nice and warm in here.”
“I know. But we had some great snow yesterday. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“My sense of adventure is here. In your warm apartment. Besides, we already went out. We chose a tree. Outside. Isn’t that enough?”
“No.” He looked her over. “You’re dressed warm enough and you have boots on. It’ll do. Grab your coat and stuff.”
She was not going to get out of this. “Okay, fine. But if you throw me in a snow pile, it’s over between us.”