He’d bring Christmas to her the best way he knew how: one moment at a time.

He reached up and traced her cheek with the outside of his fingers. “Guys like me look for reasons. We look for explanations. I’ve been trying for hours to make sense out of this, and I only know two things. When it comes to you and Santa Claus, ‘sense’ doesn’t work. And I love you.

He remembered something else about those high school days wishing he could cut straight to that first kiss to get it out of the way. Partly to get rid of the suspense, knowing the moment was hours away. Partly because he just plain wanted to kiss her.

Lindsay, do you think that child in Bethlehem cares how many cards you send out, or whether you have a tree up? Those things are meant to help you remember the holiday, not be swallowed up in it. It's supposed to be a time of joy, and you go about it with such grim purpose. 'I'm going to have a merry Christmas this time even if it kills me.

Jake looked down at Mandy’s face in the firelight. He didn’t know if he believed in Santa Claus, but the soft glow of those blue eyes made it a lot easier to believe in peace on earth, good will toward men.

Mandy stammered. “I’ve never been to a town council meeting.” “No reason you should. They’re kind of like root canals.” Jake straightened a tie that didn’t need straightening. “You don’t go in for one unless you really need to.

You don’t think I’m Satan, do you?” “Of course not.” She smiled across the table at him. “Snidely Whiplash, maybe. But not Satan.

You could sell ashes to the devil, couldn't you?" "Maybe," he said lightly. "But why would I want to?

He'd bring Christmas to her the best way he knew how: one moment at a time.

Remember, Christmas is always best when you take it out of the box.