Page 25 of Jingle Bell Jilt
I shrug. “I told you, my family is very competitive.”
Evan looks at where I’m looking and shakes his head. “No. Those are sweaters. You realize we’re in Florida, right?”
I tilt my head to the side. “Please?”
“Do all men give into you when you look like that?”
I frown. “No.” Nathan completely ignored me when I did it. I pretty much stopped after a few months. I’m not really sure why I’m doing it with Evan. Nor am I sure I’m happy about it. But I can evaluate that later.
He sighs, but one side of his mouth quirks up. “Okay, Shay. What are the rules to this contest?” He folds his arms across his chest and shifts his weight onto one leg.
I straighten to my full five foot two inches. “I will buy you a sweater, and you will buy me one. The person who buys the worst sweater wins,” I say very matter-of-factly.
His gaze takes on a rather wicked look. “May I ask your size? Or is that considered rude?”
I wag my finger at him. “That’s part of the deal. We have to guess each other’s sizes. However,” I hold up one finger in front of him, “the size needs to be close. You can’t claim a victory just because the sweater looks terrible due to an ill-fit. You can only win if the sweater is terrible on many levels.”
His shoulders lift on a sigh. “What’s the prize for this one?” He looks at me with a side-eye. “And don’t say ice cream. I want something else.”
I now do the evil villain goatee stroke. “The loser has to make the winner either cookies or brownies to go with the ice cream.”
He lifts a shoulder and does a little brush-off action. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, because I’m pretty sure I’m going to win them both.”
I just shake my head. “Game on.” I wave him away. “I will meet you in front of the store in forty minutes? That will give us both enough time to grab the rest of the stuff we need.”
He frowns. “You don’t need to buy all that.” He looks down at the cart. “Why don’t I take this cart? You can grab another one and buy the rest of the stuff. And then I’ll just Venmo or PayPal you whatever extra I owe you.”
I shake my head. “I saw that you refunded the whole amount of the rental. So unless you let me pay for it again, I’m covering this cost.”
He stares me down, but I just stare back. I can be very stubborn when I want to be. It is something that drove Nathan crazy.
“Fine,” he growls and scratches at the stubble on his cheek. “But I don’t like it. I totally displaced you for the holidays. You shouldn’t have to pay for that.”
“And I’m totally crashing your holiday celebrations. I think that makes us even.”
“Whatever,” he grumbles as he turns away. “I just hope you don’t think I’m going to take it easy on you when it comes to these contests. I play to win.”
I smile at him. “I expect nothing less.” I turn and head toward the men’s section, intent on finding the most awful Christmas sweater I can find. Granted it will not be as bad as if I had the internet at my disposal, but I am confident Walmart’s selection will not disappoint.
Once I’m certain I’m out of his line of sight, I begin to look through the selection of men’s sweaters. I’m guessing a medium will fit him snuggly, defining his very nice chest and toned arms. I pull out several sweaters that are bad, but they aren’t terrible. And for Evan, I need truly terrible. There are brownies on the line. I pull out a black sweater and can’t help the snort-laugh that comes out. Oh. My. Gosh! This is it.
White snowflakes and dots are scattered throughout the black background. There’s a row of red and yellow Christmas presents encircling the whole sweater just below the neckline and a row of green and red drums that encircle the waistline. But front and center are three nutcrackers. And above and beneath them, tucked in next to a row of decorated Christmas trees, it readsCrack Deez Nuts.
I stand corrected. I don’t think the interwebs could have delivered anything better than this.I grab the medium off the rack and put it in my cart, tucking it under all the other things I had, just in case I run into Evan.
It’s cute he thinks he’s going to win. But he’s not going to know what hit him.
I quickly grab the rest of the items on the mental list in my head. I’m a little worried we might have to return to the store at least for something for dinner tomorrow. Let’s just say that my grocery shopping track record is not at one hundred percent.
Finally, I push the cart with all my purchases in bags and head to BR.
But Evan is waiting for me at the Vision Center. Two sacks hang from his wrists folded at his chest.
His eyes make a quick scan of my bags, but I used the glassware paper and wrapped it around his sweater so he can’t see it through the sheer-ish bags. There is no use letting him see how badly he has lost…yet.
He drops his purchases in the seat where you would put a child and takes over pushing the cart as we glide through the sliding doors and head out into the sunshine.
I blink several times, reminding myself where I am. With all the festive shopping, I forgot I’m in Florida. Forgot there is no cold and no snow outside the store.
