Holly, Jolly, and Oh So Naughty (Festive Flames)
Holly, Jolly, and Oh So Naughty: Chapter 15

“Now, do you remember the rules?” I hold Emma’s hand as we walk under archways of colorful lights toward where the ice rink is set up just outside of town.

“Mmhmm!” Emma dances as she walks, making sure to step in all the fresh, undisturbed patches of snow as we move.

“What are they?”

“No running on the ice. Don’t skate in front of anyone. Uhm…” She pats one mitten-clad hand on her chin. “Don’t kick anyone with skates, and make sure I see you all the time!”

“Exactly.” I smile down at her. The rules are simple, and Emma has never been one to break them, but all it takes is one moment of overexcitement and she could cause an accident. I trust her, though, and I’ve been looking forward to this all week.

My parents, bless their hearts, are staying at the bakery to oversee the installation of my new shelves. Once they’re secured in place, I will spend all Sunday filling them and I will reopen for business on Monday.

It’s been a terrible week. Delaying commissions and pushing back orders because of the break-in is costing me dearly this close to Christmas. I almost canceled today so that I could work and catch up, but my mom wouldn’t let me.

“You owe it to Emma,” she said to me over lunch. “These memories are important and it’s Christmas! You need to do something fun. Plus, you can’t cancel on James.”

I’ve been far too busy to be nervous about meeting him today, but as the ice rink comes into view, my heart skips a beat.

The rink is set up in a clearing just off the main road leading out of town. All the surrounding trees are decorated with bright lights. Colorful, festive decorations and bright stars twinkle atop the branches. The rink is filled with parents wrangling their children into or out of their winter coats, tracking down lost mittens, and lots of laughter.

Emma bounces at my side the closer we get to the rink, and she starts to swing our joined hands back and forth before she screeches, “Santa!”

Someone dressed as Santa is going around handing out safety pamphlets to the parents and candy to the children, so of course, Emma wants to go there first. I can’t resist her excited pull, and together, laughing, we approach the burly Santa Claus.

“Santa!” Emma squeals. “Why are you here?”

“Ho-ho-ho,” Santa chuckles. “Ice safety is important, plus, I wanted to see you.”

“Really?” Emma gasps widely and gazes up in wonder. “Did you get my list?”

“I did.” Santa chuckles deeply, handing me one of the safety pamphlets, which details quick first aid in the event of an ice skate going awry. “I needed to give your Mommy this and you, this!” He pulls a red and white candy cane from his sack and hands it to Emma. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” Emma squeals, and she turns to me as Santa heads on through the crowd. “Look, Mommy, look!”

“I know!” I beam down at her. “That’s amazing. How nice of Santa to come and see you.”

“Yay!” She hands me the candy cane for safekeeping and we walk toward the wooden picnic tables set up near the food and drink stands.

There I spot James standing with his hands in his pockets looking all kinds of handsome and adorable. A pair of skates hangs from his arm, and I eye them curiously as we approach.

“Hey.” I smile up at him as Emma dances into him.

“Hi!” she yells.

“Hey, you two. Ready to hit the ice?” James asks with a warm smile.

“I’m not sure,” I muse, pointing at his skates. “Am I about to be shown up by a professional?”

“I might know a thing or two,” James says with a light smirk. “I promise I won’t show you up too much.”

“Mmmhmm, we’ll see.” I chuckle. “Emma and I need to rent skates, so I’ll go do that, and then we’ll meet you at the rink?”

“I’ll be there,” James says with a quick wink, and then we split.

“Mommy, why are your cheeks so red?” Emma asks loudly as we walk away from James.

I duck my head and try to hush her as my cheeks flare from hot to molten. A single wink and James has me hot and bothered, even though there’s so much between us that’s unresolved. I don’t have the energy to think about that today, though. Today, the focus is on Emma and relaxing.

I hire us each a pair of skates at the stall and then find James among the crowd near the entrance to the rink.

“All sorted?” he asks, showing no hint that he heard Emma’s loud and embarrassing declaration of my blushing.

“Yup. Can you hold this while I put the skates on her?”

James is happy to hold my bag while I crouch and help Emma into her skates. Mine follow, and then when I take my bag back and secure it across my body, James slips into his skates.

For a man who owns his own skates, he’s rather unsteady on the rubber floor. Approaching the ice, my heart leaps into my throat as Emma takes her first step onto the ice.

We come here every year, but this is Emma’s only skating experience, and each year, I get the same fear that she will fall flat onto the ice.

This year, she takes to it like a duck to water and after a few wobbles, she’s skating easily in small circles.

“How do you feel?” I call to her as she spins with her arms in the air.

“I’m a fairy!” she calls back to me.

Laughing, I step onto the ice and swiftly balance myself. Then I turn to James and watch as he takes his first step.

He boldly strides out onto the ice and then immediately loses all balance and falls smack down onto his back with a grunt. I can’t hold in my laughter as it overwhelms me and Emma breaks into loud giggles.

I laugh so hard that my stomach aches, especially when James tries to climb back to his feet and immediately falls once more.

“Oh, my God,” I gasp, approaching him and crouching down. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Bruised ego,” James groans with a smile.

“You own your own skates but can’t even stand on the ice? Is this one of those rich people’s things where you think you know what you are doing just because you spent a lot of money?”

“Uhm…” James groans as people skate past us, chuckling. “I bought these two days ago because I wanted to impress you.”

“Aww.” There’s something so sweet about that. “You’ve definitely impressed me, although maybe not in the way you planned.”

“I think so,” he groans. James sits up slowly, and I offer him my arm.

“Come on, I can help you.”

“Hurry up, silly!” Emma calls, skating around us. “I want to go!”

“Patience, Emma, remember?” I say gently, unable to stop giggling as James wobbles and flails like a baby deer on new legs. “Here, hold onto the barrier, and we’ll skate together slowly, okay?”

“I’m pathetic,” James groans, then he yelps and clutches at me.

It takes all my strength to keep us both upright between my peals of laughter.

“No, no, you’re just new,” I assure him. “Emma, why don’t you show him how it’s done?”

The next two hours are spent helping James find his ice legs, and it’s the most fun I’ve had in years. He has absolutely no concept of balance on the ice and falls so many times that he declares the ice to be his new home. Emma laughs herself hoarse and shows off how easy gliding is for her.

Not once does he let go of my hand. We skate along the barrier, and after an hour, James is bold enough to try free skating. However, he immediately loses control and goes down with a cry, pulling me down with him. I land on his chest, struggling for balance as we both giggle.

Being this close to him sends butterflies cascading through my gut, and when our eyes meet, the rest of the world fades away into nothing.

“Ow,” James groans, sounding very pained.

“This may be the best thing you’ve ever done,” I tease, his face an inch from mine. “I wonder what else you can’t do, hmm?”

James rolls his eyes. “You’re a menace.”

“Clearly.”

The moment ends when Emma arrives to help us to our feet, and we resume skating until the cold becomes too biting and our limbs ache from exertion. Getting James off the rink is just as comical as getting him on, but soon, we collapse down onto one of the wooden picnic benches with hot chocolate and warm waffles to fuel us.

“Can we come back tomorrow?” Emma asks between mouthfuls of waffles.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow,” James groans. “I’m bruised everywhere.”

I immediately giggle. “Proud of your purchase?” I grin.

“Absolutely.” James smirks at me, and my stomach somersaults. I’m too tired to tell myself not to give in to him. Not today.

“Sorry, sweetie, I can’t bring you tomorrow because I have to work, but you can do fun things with Grandma and Grandpa!”

Emma stares at me, seemingly debating whether she wants to or not, and then she nods. “Okay,” she says, sipping her hot chocolate. “I can ask Grandpa to the dance!”

“About time,” I murmur quietly. He’s been waiting for weeks for her to ask, but it keeps slipping from her mind.

“Your grandpa is who you will ask?” James says, nonchalantly stabbing his waffle. “Why wouldn’t you ask Mark?”

I nearly choke on my drink as the thought of Mark sours the sweetness on my tongue. “What? Why on earth would she ask Mark?”

Confusion washes over James’s face as he glances between Emma and me. “I’m sorry. From speaking to him, I just thought he would be the obvious choice.”

“Why?” I scoff. “Mark isn’t related to her at all.”