As much as I hate curve balls being thrown at me, sometimes I can swing the bat and hit one out of the park. After Landon walks out on me—okay, after I kick him out—I think long and hard about our argument. I take it to work with me for two days before running into him at the mall. Literally. And when I see him that day, all I can think about is lying with him in front of a fire, Christmas tree lights glowing beside us. I picture us under the mistletoe, stealing kisses whenever we can.

Maybe I didn’t give Christmas a fair shot. I stuffed it away in a box for so many years hoping it would disappear when all I need is the right person to celebrate with.

When I kiss him goodbye on Wednesday, I promise to make it up to him. We see each other a few times over the week, and again on Christmas Eve. I ask him to come over today, on Christmas, after his morning with Courtney, Arthur, Abby, and Audrey. He didn’t invite me to their celebration, and I understand why. My mom has learned not to expect me. She never even bothers to ask anymore.

Today I do what I promised to Landon. I make it up to him.

My doorbell rings, and I inhale a deep breath, the smell of gingerbread overtaking my whole house, and nervous shivers running through my body. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

I swing open the door, and Landon stands on my doorstep, bundled in a wool jacket and ear warmers. His warm breath clouds the cold air, his lips shivering. I touch my lips to his. I don’t want him to be cold. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas?” He repeats. “Am I at the right house?”

“You sure are.” I take his hand and pull him inside.

“You hung the snowflakes back up. The tree is decorated.” He holds his hand to his ear. “Do I hear music? Is that Bing Crosby?”

“White Christmas,” I tell him. And it sure is. The snow arrived overnight, blanketing the grass and covering the streets. “And…” I put my finger up and drag him into the kitchen. I open the oven and pull the last batch of cookies out.

“You baked!”

“I sure did! Our menu consists only of wine and cookies.” I bought plenty of wine assuming I would need more than a bottle or two to get through the day, but the smile on Landon’s face is making this all worth it.

“You sure know how to surprise someone.”

“Well, I told you I would make it up to you. I know Christmas is important to you, and when I thought of celebrating with just the two of us, it didn’t seem so overwhelming.”

He wraps his arms around me and nestles his face in my neck, tickling the skin with his tongue. “You’re amazing.”

“Are you sure Courtney is okay with you leaving their house early to come here?” I move the cookies from on top the stove to the rack to cool. This is my first Christmas in almost twenty years, and I’m taking it slow. They aren’t the dozens of decorated ones my mom makes. There’s a batch each of chocolate chip, gingerbread, and peanut butter cookies. That I can manage.

“No. She understands. She wishes you would have come to her house. I didn’t invite you because, well, I thought you’d say no.”

“I probably would have. I like this, though, you and me.” I press my hands to his chest as I kiss him. His arms slide around my waist, and he pulls me into him, and my knees weaken. “Okay, Lover Boy, you need to take your jacket off and search Netflix for the perfect Christmas movie to start us off tonight.”

“We’re watching a holiday movie, too?”

“Maybe two or four. It depends on how much of this I can take.”

“And there she is,” he says as he slides his jacket off and places it on the back of his chair. “Mrs. Grinch.”

“I’m not the Grinch.” Carly calls me that, and I hate it.

“Fine. Scrooge then.”

“Do you know anyone named Scrooge who can do this?” I nibble on his earlobe, lifting my leg and wrapping it around his waist. This leads to an entanglement of tongues, and Landon reaching underneath my sweater. I playfully push him away. “Save some for later.”

“Can you be dessert?”

“I’d like that.” I open the wine and pour us each a glass. “How is Courtney doing?”

“She starts chemo after the holidays. I think she’s handling it better than I ever could. She’s a rock.” Once we’re in the living room, we sit on the couch together, our knees touching. “We lost our mom to cancer. Not too long ago, either. That’s what makes this so much harder. The girls never even knew their grandma. It kills me to think they might not know their mother, either.”

My mom is constantly telling me she only wants Hunter and me to get along. She wants a strong family bond. I find it difficult to forgive him for what he did. Landon opening up about his mother, though, strikes a nerve. I complain about my mom and my brother but I can’t imagine life without either of them.

“Hunter and I used to get along. And then when he stole from Mom I was so angry. Cutting him out of my life was easy once he was in prison. I didn’t visit him. No letters. I refused to talk about him with my mom. I always knew he was there though. If I wanted to see him, the option existed. I don’t know how I would have felt if that slim chance wasn’t there.”

“Do you think you’ll ever have a relationship with him? Do you want one?”

The question hits me in the face, panic almost rushing over me. I never think about it. Whenever his name comes up, I shut down and push any possibility of a relationship out of my mind. Life is easier when you expect nothing. Then you can’t be disappointed.

“I don’t know. I mean, I want the Hunter back I knew years ago. Even before all this happened with my mom. Before a life filled with crime took him over. I worry he’s not in there anymore, though.”

“He said he went to rehab. Don’t you believe him?”

“I do. I worry he’ll revert to his old ways.”

“What makes you think that?”

I shrug, stroking the side of my wine glass with my thumb. “Most people do. People don’t change. They always stay the same.”

“Come on, you don’t believe that do you? Take a look around your house. Even a week ago if I told you this place would be decorated for Christmas you would have laughed in my face. You’ve changed.”

Have I, though? So I hung a few snowflakes and baked cookies. Does that make me a changed woman? I can’t even attend a gathering with more than Landon. I’m not looking into the future but I don’t foresee me hosting a big family dinner next year. “I’m a work in progress.”

Landon smiles as he takes my glass and places it on the coffee table. “Is that right?” He leans in, sliding his hand up my thigh, touching his lips to my neck. “I like working on you.”

I allow him to guide me on the couch to a horizontal position. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Hallelujah! My sweater comes off, his shirt ends up on the floor, and I fumble to unbutton his jeans. I yank them down, and he’s hard on top of me. We’re a tangled mess of moans and groans, our lips exploring each other’s skin. Landon shifts his weight to the right, pushing his leg out, and the wine glasses crash to the floor.

“I’m so sorry!” Landon hops off of me. I say nothing, racing to the kitchen for towels. Landon takes the towels from me and blots the area. “I can’t believe I did this.”

“It’s not a big deal. This is why I have wood floors. This isn’t the first time I’ve spilled wine on my floor, and it won’t be the last.” My eyes move from his head to his toes and back up again. “It is the first time anyone has done it naked.”

He stands at full attention, his hands on his hips. I snicker at him, and he slides his boxers on. “You don’t like that?”

“Like Seinfeld once said, there’s good naked and bad naked. Crouching to clean up a spill is bad naked.”

“Understood,” he says as he salutes me. “After this is cleaned up, shall we continue this in your bedroom?”

My fingers trace his chest. “I’ll ride you like Santa’s sleigh.” I don’t know what’s come over me, but from the outline of Landon’s boxers, he likes it, too.