"You're right on time," Locke says, his eyes instantly flicking down to the large shopping bags I'm carrying.
"So are you," I say, sliding my bags deep under the table near my feet, completely out of sight. "What's in your bags, handsome?"
I point toward the two sleek black shopping bags sitting on the bench right beside him, meticulously wrapped so nothing is visible.
Locke smirks, leaning his broad forearms on the table, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
“C’mon, Locke,” I say, leaning across the table, trying to catch a glimpse of a logo or a box shape. "Give me a hint…”
"It's none of your business until Christmas morning, baby," Locke chuckles softly, reaching across the table to capture my hand, his big fingers lacing through mine. "You're goin
