Page 43 of Holly Ever After

She winks at me. “Speak for yourself.”

Feeling oddly bold—maybe it's the mimosas or maybe it's the laughably sexy Mrs. Claus outfit in my hands—I snap a quick picture of it and send it back to Sean with the caption, “I make my own inspiration.”

The bouncing dots appear almost instantly, then disappear, and reappear again. Ah, the suspense. Did I manage to make Sean speechless?

His reply pops up on my screen.

Sean: You're going out in public like that? You trying to give the entire town some daily inspiration too?

The subtext is clear—somehow, the thought of me being the center of attention in that outfit doesn't sit well with him. It's protective, slightly possessive, and it sends a little thrill through me.

Jackie glimpses at the screen and winks at me. “Wow, looks like Mr. Handyman wants to be the only one nailing something tonight.”

∞∞∞

“Ah, The Heartstopper,” Jackie coos, practically salivating as the waitress sets down a gargantuan platter in front of her. It's piled high with fried eggs, bacon, sausage, and a thick layer of hash browns swimming in gravy. “Isn't she beautiful?”

“She’s stunning.”

She snorts and digs in. “Don’t be jealous.”

I raise an eyebrow at her as my breakfast burrito arrives. It's the size of a newborn, stuffed to the brim with scrambled eggs, sausage, and cheese. It's a heart attack wrapped in a tortilla, but I'm not one to judge. After the mimosa-fueled morning and yesterday's drama, I deserve this.

“So, what's the game plan for tonight?” she asks, her mouth full of hash browns.

“First, we eat, then we decorate my sad, undecorated tree. And after that, we go to Molly's and unleash our holiday havoc upon the world.”

She laughs, clinking her coffee mug against my juice glass. “Here's to holiday havoc and bad decisions.”

“May they haunt us for years to come.”

Seventeen

I'm standing in my living room, fingers lightly brushing the frilly hem of my “Sexy Mrs. Claus” outfit. What on earth possessed me to choose this? Sure, it's warm and cozy inside my cottage, but outside, the snow is falling in thick blankets, and this outfit is not built for a winter wonderland.

My eyes roam the room, settling on my newly decorated Christmas tree in the corner. Its twinkling lights cast a soft glow on the pine-scented room.

A faux fur rug sprawls in front of a fireplace, where a fire crackles and pops, its flickering light dancing across the room. Vanilla and cinnamon-scented candles are scattered on end tables, filling the room with the sweet, comforting aroma. A stack of well-loved holiday books sits on the coffee table next to a bowl of pinecones and a few sprigs of holly. A cozy knitted blanket is folded over the arm of my favorite reading chair, practically inviting me to curl up with a cup of hot cocoa.

Everything about this room screams Christmas and warmth. It’s like a holiday hug that I never want to end.

Just as I'm about to reconsider my outfit choice, I hear a car horn honk loudly outside. It's Jackie, no doubt, and she's probably just as ridiculously dressed as I am. With a sigh and a quick glance at myself in the mirror—Red lips? Check. Santa hat? Check—I grab my coat and head for the door.

∞∞∞

We pull up to Molly's, and even from the outside, it's clear the place is buzzing with an electric energy that only a live band can generate. As we walk in, I immediately understand the reason for the crowd. On stage, Jaxson King, the lead singer of the Savage Saints, is belting out a rock rendition ofJingle Bell Rockthat has the entire place on its feet.

The Savage Saints have won multiple Grammys, toured the world, and reached a level of fame that most bands only dream of. Yet, every year, they come back to Pine Falls to play a Christmas gig at Molly's. It's their homage to their roots. The bar practically vibrates with the bass and the crowd's excitement.

Looking around, it seems that everyone got the memo about dressing up. It's like a Christmas carnival of ridiculous attire.

Jackie, who's dressed as a sexy gingerbread woman complete with gumdrop buttons and frosting swirls, sidles up to me with a grin.

“Hey Mrs. Claus, ready to find your Santa?” she shouts over the music, winking at me.

I laugh. “I don't know, there’s a lot to choose from. How about you? Ready to get baked?” I gesture at her outfit.

“Honey, I'm always baked. But don't let me crumble alone. Let's get some drinks.”

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