He lets out a howl of laughter and presses his lips quickly to mine again. ‘Of all the times I’ve imagined doing that, that was so much better.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I think we should do it again to make sure.’
‘I like your way of thinking,’ he says, each word peppered with a kiss.
I lose track of time as he kisses me properly again. Everything fades as my fingers curl into his body so tightly that he’s going to have nail-shaped indents in the back of his neck, and it takes a long while for me to risk pulling away and opening first one eye and then the other, genuinely surprised that we’re still on Nutcracker Lane because everything about that kiss felt like the world shifted underneath our feet and everything that hasn’t been right for a long while is suddenly right again.
I look up at the giant nutcracker looming above us, and I’m sure his cheeks look redder than they did earlier. I doubt he’s used to watching that kind of display. Eight-year-olds wishing for unicorns is more his usual scene.
‘My wish came true too, you know.’
James raises one eyebrow and lowers the other in confusion.
‘The night before I met you in the shop, I wished for Prince Charming.’
I thought it would make him laugh, but the smile he gives me is surprisingly tight and the look on his face is pained. ‘I wish I was Prince Charming … but I’m not, Nia. I’m so far from Prince Charming that I probably shouldn’t have done that, but I didn’t know how to go another second without kissing you, and—’
I cut him off by kissing him again, and he stumbles into the fence and groans in actual pain as it jars a bruise.
‘Come on, let’s go back to mine. If you think I’m letting you go home after that, forget it.’
He hesitates. ‘Nee, I can’t do, y’know, that. Not with these ribs. And trust me, you don’t want to see me with my shirt off at the moment. I look like … you know when you were a child and got your hands into some watercolour paints and mixed every colour together and it ended up an indistinct purple-tinged mess?’
It makes me giggle because I remember it well. ‘We’ve got all the time in the world for, y’know, that. It was the last thing on my mind. And seeing under your shirt would make no difference to how gorgeous you are, but kissing you and staying upright at the same time isn’t working out too well for me. And when you knocked, I was contemplating getting up to make a batch of mince pies, so you can come and help with that, because it’s December 21st and no un-Grinching would be complete without a mince pie hot from the oven and freshly whipped cream.’
He lets out a guttural groan of longing, and I gather up the bag containing the two nutcrackers.
‘Just so you know, I think my un-Grinching is more than complete now. You’ve completely changed the way I see Christmas. You’ve changed the way I see everything.’
I can’t help smiling as we walk hand-in-hand towards the entrance. He’s certainly had a positive impact on my life too. I can’t wait to see where this is going and where we’ll be next Christmas, because for the first time, it feels like it might be even better than this one. It feels like there might be hope.
Chapter 16
My lips are actually swollen, to the point where Lily asks me if I’m wearing a new lipstick when she walks up to Nutcracker Lane with Stacey and me the next morning. School’s out for Christmas and she’s designated herself as our new sales assistant and muffin supervisor for the Nutcracker Lane bakery, and there’s something really special about seeing her love Nutcracker Lane as much as I did when I was her age.
‘Well, what d’ya know, looks like Flynn Rider’s been to the same make-up counter.’ Stacey raises an understanding eyebrow as we meet James getting out of his car.
His hair is still damp from where he’s been home to shower and change, and for the first time, his jumper is not a Grinch one but a black and white Fair Isle patterned one with Jack Skellington’s face in the middle of it. Typical James, nothing too Christmassy. If it wasn’t for Lily and Stacey’s curious eyes, I’d kiss him good morning as well as the many many times we kissed last night before he reluctantly went home, but he settles for dropping his good arm around my shoulder and squeezing me into his side.
Once opening time passes, Nutcracker Lane is busier than it’s been in the past few years put together. With school holidays and most work breaks in full swing, there are families everywhere. The chestnut seller is doling out bags of chestnuts with such speed that his arms are a blur, like the scene in Elf when Buddy starts throwing snowballs in the park. The carollers have split up into three groups and are giving a synchronised concert near the magical nutcracker, the coffee shop, and the tree lot at the other end. Our line of little nutcrackers has been almost obliterated at the sides of the lane with people taking them, knocking them over, or trampling them, so now they only stand in proud lines through each shop window, an implied wooden middle finger to Scrooge.
With families off work, Carmen and Hubert have roped in cover for their counters and are getting in a few final chances to grant wishes. With only three days until Christmas, there might not be many more chances, and somewhere I have to find the time to formulate a real business plan to show them and find out who else would be on board with my ideas for the future of Nutcracker Lane before
