Page 67 of A Christmas For Holly

“Oh, I think it is,” I said, leaning forward with a grin. “Wouldn’t it be awful if Mom found out the two of you weren’t sick? That instead of being tucked in bed, you were… what was it… ‘trying for baby number three’?”

“Okay, okay,” Duncan said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Point taken. Your texting habits are perfectly normal, and I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“Good.” I leaned back, picking up my phone again, the grin creeping onto my face as I read Holly’s latest message.

Then he elbowed me in the side. “And you’re the first to know it worked, and you’re gonna be an uncle again in June.”

“Fuck. That’s wonderful news!” I hugged Duncan so hard that I nearly broke him. He extricated himself and shook his head, chuckling as he grabbed a bag of coffee from the shelf.

“You’re still pathetic, though.”

“Maybe,” I shot back. “But at least I’m not lying to Mom about being sick.”

Duncan groaned, muttering something about siblings holding grudges as he turned to greet a customer. Victory!

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, grinning despite myself. Holly always made me feel lighter, even when I was shuffling off to solve yet another Parade of Lights crisis. It was time to see if I could work Christmas magic on Hunter McCoy.

The air was sharp as I walked into the cold and headed to The Real McCoy. The moment I stepped inside, the scent of roasting beans hit me, mingled with cinnamon and nutmeg from the seasonal drinks menu. Behind the counter, Hunter looked as grumpy as ever when he saw me, his frown etched deep. I knew he’d been in Callum’s class at school, which made him a couple of years older than me, but his frown aged him.

“I’ll take a Christmas hot chocolate,” I said, stepping up to the counter.

“Oh look, if it isn’t one of the Haynes boys,” he sighed. “Guess you want a modern one with whipped cream, fake chocolate, mass-produced marshmallows, and themed candy sprinkles?” Hunter asked, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

I tilted my chin at his sarcasm. “Yep, the Grinch-approved version,” I shot back.

He grunted, muttering as he started making the drink.

When he slid it across to me, I took a sip—perfectly rich and decadent—then leaned on the counter. “So, tell me about historically accurate hot chocolate?”

Hunter stiffened, his scowl deepening and his face turning scarlet. “No.”

“Think of the money you’d make selling hot chocolate at a stall to everyone stopping for the parade.

“That’s not the point. I won’t do all that other stuff!”

“What stuff?” I poked.

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “All of it! I can’t deal withthatman.” The way he saidthat man, and pointed at the bookstore next door, made it clear he meant Wesley.

“Then deal with me instead,” I offered. “It makes sense for every local supplier and store to be part of the biggest night of the year, and think what you could do with all that extra income! I’ll be the go-between, so you won’t have to talk to Wesley if you don’t want to.”

Hunter stared at me for a long moment, clearly weighing his options. At last, he sighed. “Fine. But you’re dealing with him and his stupid ideas about messing up an authentic Christmas, not me. And don’t expect me to dress up as a ghost or whatever nonsense he’s cooked up.”

I held back a grin. “Deal,” I said in my best serious tone.

When I returned to the store, it was such a busy afternoon that I barely had time to think about Holly or all things parade. Instead, I reveled in the arrival of the first load of tourists here for December first and the parade. Some people were here early so that they didn’t miss a thing. When it was time to close the store—later than usual as our Christmas opening times kicked in, I was itching to head to the cabin. We locked up and Duncan wrestled me into a snow drift, but I pinned him first, and with the earlier threat about telling Mom, it was Lucas 2: Duncan 0. I was home and packing an overnight bag when my phone vibrated. There was an earlier text.

HOLLY: Cars both gone. They managed to dig them out okay.

Shit. Was Holly upset? That car was the last link to his old life. I wish I’d seen that damn message.Then another that was timed as just now.

HOLLY: I’m outside, I have bars on my phone, talk to me!

LUCAS: It’s too cold to be outside

HOLLY: Needed to talk to you.

LUCAS: You okay?

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