Merry Little Hate Notes

Chapter Eighteen

brANDON

HOLLY AND I STROLLED TOGETHER through the sound of squeaky carts during the major hustle and bustle that was Costco on a Friday night. My head kept turning, overwhelmed by the larger-than-life TV screens and massive rows displaying giant bags of food. It wasn’t exactly romantic, but we were together, and I would take what I could get. My wingman was constantly reminding me to ease into things, and that was the plan, even though I felt the need for speed. But I wasn’t keen on admitting to Holly I’d lied and knowingly hurt her so long ago, which was why I knew I had to take it slow. I needed her to believe how sorry I was before I ventured to kiss her, even though it was all I could think about. On a more positive note, I did score the biggest bag of athletic socks known to man. Holly said you haven’t really lived until you’ve bought clothes at Costco, so I guess I was living life now.

Holly turned us down an aisle with a variety of dried fruits.

I faithfully followed, pushing the biggest grocery cart I’d ever seen while admiring her figure in a dark-green tunic sweater and leggings. The color and fit were perfect on her. Even so, I couldn’t resist leaving her a note this morning that said, Hey, Mistle-Toad. In return, she left me one that said, Go, prick thy face, Rude-olph. She was cleverly mixing her Shakespeare into the holiday insults. I couldn’ t help but be in awe of her talent. She also excelled at drawing, but I’d let her down today. “You’re being quiet. Are you still upset we lost holiday Pictionary?”

Holly pursed her lips while considering her response.

I could tell she was doing her best not to lambast me.

“I’m just a little confused why you would say flagpole instead of North Pole when clearly it was holiday themed and I candy-striped the pole.”

“I’m sorry—I blurted prematurely.”

She giggled. “Blurted prematurely?”

“Yeah, I seem to do that a lot around you.”

“I seem to have the same problem,” she said coyly. “But”—her index finger hovered just barely over her thumb—“we were this close to winning today.”

That picture was the tiebreaker, and I blew it. “Again, I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you? Let me buy you a bag of mangoes.”

“I already have two bags at home,” she playfully grumbled.

“Okay. How about one of the giant cups of ice cream I’ve seen people walking around with?”

“Hmm. Ice cream might soothe my soul.”

I chuckled. “Ice cream it is, then. You should just be glad Jane isn’t your partner. She scared the hell out of me and every other guy today with her nutcracker picture. I don’t think she understood the assignment.”

“I’m pretty sure she did. She just hates everything and everyone—especially your wingman for bringing about all the office holiday cheer, so you better tell him to watch out. Who is he, by the way?” She wagged her brows. “Is he following us around, waiting to help you out?” She cackled.

I swallowed hard, not wishing to disclose that information yet. It was another case of premature blurting coming back to bite me. So I went the cocky route. Maybe not my finest move, but was any move with Holly? “I don’t need help. I have the perfect plan for tonight. Costco is just the beginning.”

“I don’t know if you can top Costco. Did you see those rotisserie chickens and all the free samples? And they sell croissant bread. Have you ever heard of such a wonderful creation?”

“I’m up to the challenge,” I assured her. Although croissant bread did sound amazing. Where could I find that?

She swayed a bit and looked down at her boots. “So, is this like a date?”

I suppose I should have made that clear. I tugged on the sleeve of her sweater and drew her closer to me.

Her gorgeous head lifted until our eyes met.

I gently swiped her bangs. “I should have properly asked ahead of time, but will you go out with me?” Nerves coursed through me like never before, making my palms sweat. It wasn’t every day you got to ask out the girl of your dreams at Costco.

“Well, seeing as you are my ride home and you’re buying me ice cream ...” Her beautiful, devious eyes lit up. “I suppose I could go on a date with you.”

I tugged her closer. “I’m glad to hear that because tonight we start revisiting Christmas.”

“How?” she whispered with some trepidation.

“You’ll see.” I leaned in and kissed her head. I yearned to kiss her lips, but I could hear my wingman yelling at me to proceed with caution. And the whole admitting-to-purposely-breaking-her-heart thing would put a damper on it.

“Okay. You know, I’ve always had this fantasy I would meet some handsome, eligible guy in this aisle who shared my affinity for dried mangoes.”

I chuckled and wrapped my arms around her, soaking in every part of her, from the way her breath stilled for several seconds before she allowed herself to relax and snuggle into me, to the way her hair smelled like mint shampoo. It was the perfect start to our date. “I hope I’m that guy.” There I went, prematurely blurting again. But it was true. Every word.

“So far, so good. Assuming you buy some mangoes.” A smile was apparent in her voice.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving the store without them. ”

She leaned away, blushing and brimming with both anticipation and hesitation.

I hoped to remove any hesitations she might have. I knew it was going to take some time. “Should we check out? I’m eager to flash my new Costco card. I hope I do it right.”

“Make sure you do. I don’t want you to embarrass me,” she teased.

Before I forgot, I grabbed a couple of bags of dried mangoes. “I’ll do my best.” Meaning in every way possible.

She nodded as if she understood.

We proceeded to the checkout lanes along with dozens upon dozens of other patrons. It took so long, we were able to share an entire ice cream before we even made it to the conveyor belt. Unfortunately, I flashed my card too early, but Holly let them know I was a first timer and all was forgiven. Once we survived checkout, we loaded up my Land Rover and the real fun began.

Holly turned toward me as soon as we hit 470. “Where are we going?”

“How do you feel about miniature golfing at a Christmas tree lot?”

“Are you for real? That’s a thing?”

“Apparently.”

She giggled.

“The real question is, how do you feel about getting a Christmas tree after I beat you at mini golf?” I said with too much bravado.

“Wow.” She blew out a large breath. “I guess if we are going to properly revisit Christmas, we need a tree.” Her failure to mention my beating her at mini golf spoke to how big of a deal getting a tree was to her.

“I think it’s a rule.” I glanced at her before switching lanes. Worry lines marked her features. “We don’t have to go too crazy. We can start with a small tree.” I tried to lighten the mood, hoping to make her more comfortable.

“It will need to be small to fit in my living room. I never imagined one there.” She wrung her hands together.

I reached over and rested a hand on her thigh. “I know this is a big step for both of us, but I’m glad we’re doing it together.”

“Me too.” She placed a delicate hand over mine .

If she only knew how that simple act made my heart race.

“We should probably listen to some Christmas music. It was always a tradition when we picked out a tree.” The cadence of her voice pitched higher.

“I remember. You always insisted it had to be the Carpenters.” Proud of myself for remembering that fact, I removed my hand from beneath hers and pushed a button on the in-dash screen. Karen Carpenter’s soothing tones singing “The Christmas Song” filled the car.

“Brandon,” Holly choked out. “You ... Um ... I don’t know what to say.”

The look on her face was priceless to me. “You don’t have to say anything. Just sing along.”

“Are you going to make fun of me, like you and Christian always used to?”

I shook my head. “I’m not that boy anymore.”

“He wasn’t all that bad.” She smiled with tears in her eyes.

“He wasn’t as good as he should have been, either. He should have told you how much he liked it when you would sing.”

“You did?”

I nodded. “I did.” She had a velvety alto singing voice that did me in.

She flashed me a toothy grin. “I’ll sing along, but you have to sing too.”

“You don’t want me to ruin it.”

Holly reached for my hand and held it between her own shaking palms. “Please do this with me.” She said the magic words.

I would do anything she asked of me, even if it meant singing off-key and ruining a perfectly good song. I curled my fingers around hers and butchered the song, but Holly more than made up for it. With every word she belted out, Christmas made its way in. I had to admit my wingman was right about the way to find my Christmas. Watching Holly discover the holiday spirit once again helped me not only see it, but feel it too.

It took us almost the entire Carpenters’ Christmas album to make it to the tree farm and mini golf course. Friday-night traffic was a beast, but I hardly noticed it. Something about being with Holly made time stop and race all at the same time. She’d always had that effect.

We pulled into the gravel parking lot that appeared completely full.

“This place is hopping. Who knew a mini golf Christmas tree farm would be so popular?” Holly said.

“Christian would have loved it,” I said his name without thinking. Odd how easy it was. I still felt the pang of his absence, but Holly lessened the sting of it.

“Yeah, he would have. But he totally would have ditched me for the first cute girl he met.” She tilted her head and thoughtfully gazed at me. “Thank you for making sure I was never alone in those situations.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I always enjoyed it.” In fact, I prayed for them—little pockets of time where I would torture myself, trying to figure out a way to keep both the girl I loved and my best friend in my life.

“Even if I screamed my head off on the Tower of Terror?”

“I especially enjoyed that.” That trip to Disneyland the summer before I screwed everything up was one of the highlights of my life. Two days of mostly just Holly and me.

“Hopefully, I won’t be screaming tonight. But I will be kicking your booty in mini golf.”

There was my Holly.

I laughed. “I’ve seen you on a golf course and I think it’s safe to say I will be the victor.”

She sat up straight and folded her arms. “Fine. Should we bet on this?”

“Absolutely. What am I going to win when you lose?”

“I think you meant to say that when you lose, you’re going to sing ‘Jingle Bells’ at the office during working hours using the karaoke machine in the common area.”

That sounded like cruel and unusual punishment for not only me but for anyone listening. But my ego got the better of me. I knew Holly to be a terrible golfer. “Deal,” I said smugly. “Just know, when I win, it will be you serenading our coworkers on Monday. ”

Holly stilled and thought for a moment before her pride kicked in, just as mine had. She held out her hand. “You have yourself a deal.”

I took her hand, but instead of shaking it, I let my thumb glide across her soft skin. It gave me pleasure to see her shiver.

Her bright eyes caught hold of mine and held me captive. Anticipation had replaced the questions I normally saw brewing in those beauties.

“You ready?” I whispered, not wanting to break the hold she had on me.

“I think I am,” she said, proud of herself. I had a feeling she was talking about more than playing mini golf.

The fact that she was giving me and Christmas a chance made me want to pull her in and kiss her until we were both breathless and fogged up every window in my car. Instead, I gently raised her delicate hand and brought it to my lips, savoring the feel of her skin there. It took everything in me not to prematurely blurt out the truth of it all and what a jerk I’d been.

Holly saved me from myself when she pulled her hand away, blinking rapidly. “We should go.” She flung open the door.

The blast of icy air was a cold reminder that the finish line had yet to be crossed. I only hoped I’d come out a winner in the end.