He frowned. “And what would happen to you in that fantasy of yours?”

“I’d go home and think about the dreamy guy who had stolen my heart, and I’d compare every other man to him for the rest of my life.”

He pulled her into his arms and said, “That’s the saddest story I’ve ever heard.”

“You didn’t hear the end yet.”

He cocked a brow.

“When day turned to night, I’d crawl into bed and rest my head on my husband’s shoulder. Just as he’d turn to kiss me, our two little ones would run into the bedroom and climb between us. The puppy would paw at the edge of the bed because she’s too small to jump, and my husband would scoop her up and let her lick his entire face. I’d look over our kids’ heads into his clear blue eyes and say something like, I love our life, and he’d lean over the two most adorable children in the world and say, I love my wife. And then he’d kiss me, and our kids would yell, ‘Ew, Dad!’ and he’d kiss me again, because my kisses have always done him in.”

“Hell yeah, they have, and I’m ready to be done in again.” He kissed her ravenously, parting only at the sound of giggles. He eyed the three kids running past them and said, “Two, huh?”

She loved that he was playing along. “Too many?”

“I’m thinking three.” He hooked his arm around her shoulders and walked in the direction the kids went. “Maybe four.”

“Let me just scratch dance off my future to-do list.”

“Nonono. Two’s good.”

They both laughed, and then they checked out more trees, passing by so many, Quincy finally said, “We’re running out of options,” at the same moment she saw their tree and exclaimed, “That one!”

She pulled him over to it. “Isn’t it perfect for us?”

“It’s a little crooked.”

“That’s part of its charm, and that’s why it’s meant to be ours. Neither of us have followed straight paths to get where we are, but we’re perfect together. This tree is taller than you, but I think it’ll fit in your apartment, and it has a long pointy branch for the star, or whatever we want to put there.”

“It’s missing a branch.” He put his hand in the hole where the branch was missing and said, “I guess that means it’s been through a rough time, like us.”

“Exactly,” she said proudly.

“You’re right. It’s perfect. Let’s make it ours.”

As he tied the tag on the tree, Roni scooped up a handful of snow and packed it into a snowball. When he turned around, she threw it, nailing him in the chest. His jaw dropped, and he swiped at the snow stuck to his jacket, laughing as he scooped up a handful of snow.

“We’re doing this, huh?” he said, his eyes narrowing as she packed another snowball.

“Oh yeah.” She threw another snowball.

He ran toward her, and she squealed, sprinting ahead. A snowball hit her back and she cracked up. Grabbing more snow and packing it on the run, she hurled it behind her. She missed him, but in his hand was another one. She squealed again, running in a zigzag pattern and scooping up more snow, dodging his snowball. Their laughter filled the air as they chased each other through the rows. When she turned to throw another one, he was right there, and he tackled her to the ground in fits of laughter. She rolled away and tried to get up, but he yanked her down on top of him, her back to his chest, her legs flailing.