Page 28 of A Christmas For Holly

“Where are you staying?”

I paused, still wary of anyone knowing my business, but Wesley seemed so open, so chatty, and something about him made me want to talk.

“Kissing Cabins,” I murmured.

He grinned. “I love it up there. Are you going further up to the skiing?”

“Not my thing,” I said as he checked the back of a second-hand book for a price.

“Be careful driving up, I had an incident on the first bend, you know the one with the snapped pine?” He glanced at me, and I nodded as if I knew what he was talking about. “That was me.” He rolled his eyes. “After that embarrassing situation with our resident firefighter hottie, a written-off car, and a snapped pine later, I’m going nowhere in the snow.”

“I walked into town.”

“You did? Well, look for Jeremy outside the library with his pink taxi; he’ll take you back up for a couple of dollars.”

“I can walk,” I was stubborn, and it wasn’t that far.

“Believe me when I say, talk to Jeremy.” Wesley seemed concerned, and maybe I was giving off incapable vibes, but I wasn’t in the right headspace to argue.

“Okay, I will.”

Mollified, he carried on packing and pricing my books. The door opened and a rush of cold air hit me like a slap, making the warmth inside feel fragile. A tall woman strode in, grabbing an armful of books from the sale pile. She moved with purpose, not glancing at what she was picking up, and headed straight for thecounter to line up behind me. She cursed when her precarious hold on the books slid sideways.

I helped her stack the books neatly before Wesley, who was still ringing me up. She wore a jacket withHigh Peaks Skiingembroidered on it, the kind of gear that looked made for severe cold, and we exchanged a smile.

“More books already, Sal?” Wesley asked with a smile.

“We’ve been upgraded to a severe snow warning.” She glanced out of the window, frowning at the sky, which was already darkening. “The NWS is calling for eighteen inches.”

“Oh no,” Wesley muttered.

“Hopefully, the town won’t get hit as bad.”

“Are you shutting the ski slopes?”

“Yep, and I want to get home with all the books before the snow hits and we’re trapped in the residences,” she said, her voice brisk.

I swallowed hard, listening to her words, a shiver running down my spine. The thought of being trapped by anything made my stomach tighten. There was no chance in hell I was going up the mountain any further than my cabin.

“That bad?” Wesley asked, frowning, before he waved at her pile. “Take the books, and we’ll settle up later.”

“Thank you,” she said, bundled the books into a large bag, and headed out as fast as she’d arrived. It wasn’t long after she left that the door opened again, and another frigid gust of air swept through the store. Was Sal back for more books?

I glanced to my left, and my stomach dropped. It wasn’t Sal, the ski lady.

It was Lucas, and he stared at me. The surprise on his face quickly morphed into a half-smile.

“Hey,” he greeted me, his tone neutral, but tension hung between us. Or at least, I was tense. I recalled that he’d called me Holly and Paul in my dream. I was both those things, butI remember feeling warm that he’d used my nicknameandmy real one instead of the generic Hollister.

“Hi again,” I replied. “Thank you for helping me with the unpack?—”

“No worries.”

“I’ve been getting your messages.”

“Good.”

“Umm, why?—”

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