Page 45 of Not Your Average Vixen
He had to stop noticing everything about her. It didn’t help that he’d spent the better part of an hour watching her sleep last night. And then, did it again in the car before, like a total sleep-deprived sucker, he’d fallen asleep with her in his arms.
He schooled his features. “It’s like you said. The best man and maid of honor duties start now, right? It’ll be easier to get things done if we’re in the same room.”
She narrowed her gaze, sizing him up. “True.”
He glanced around the group to find all eyes still trained on them.
“It’s settled. Bridget and I will take room five,” he said, hoping he looked decisive and not like a sap who’d spent twenty minutes cataloging the adorable smattering of freckles on her nose.
Dan clapped his hands. “It looks as if everything is coming together.”
That was an understatement.
He did his best to appear like someone not plotting to ruin a wedding. “Dan’s right. Let’s get this day started. Have fun on the slopes. Birdie and I will take it from here.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with this arrangement, Birdie?” Lori asked with a brow crease that matched Bridget’s.
The women did some weird eye thing before the hint of a playful grin pulled at the corner of his vixen’s lips.
“We’ll be fine. Like two chestnuts roasting over an open fire,” she replied, quoting Dan in quite a precarious tone.
“Marvelous! We’ll see you both for the spaghetti dinner at Kringle Acres in the village,” Grace said, patting his cheek before hugging Bridget goodbye.
Denise and Nancy broke off from the group to gather the kids as a glum Russell trailed behind his family toward the ski lift. But Tom stopped, said something to Lori, then jogged back to where he and Bridget still stood.
Holy hell! Was it that easy? Could it be that just seeing each other in person had miraculously broken the Dasher spell and brought Tom back to his old self?
“I’m glad you’re here, Scooter,” Tom said.
He nodded as his pulse kicked up. “I’m always here for you.”
Tom’s features grew pensive. “Good, because I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
His mind raced. If Tom needed to make a quick getaway, they’d need a vehicle. He spied an old pickup truck parked on the side of the mountain house. There! Knowing places like these, the keys were probably tucked above the sun visor.
Tom reached into his pocket, removed a small black velvet bag, then shook the contents into his palm.
Oh shit! The rings!
“Best man duties. I’m trusting you with these,” he said, handing them over carefully.
Soren held his friend’s gaze and remembered back to the day Tom dragged him onto the train to spend his first Christmas with the Abbotts.
“You’re trusting me with the wedding rings?” he asked, trying not to sound like a fox who’d been given the keys to the henhouse.
Tom chuckled. “Yeah, of course, I am. You’re my best friend, Scooter,” the man finished with a pat to his shoulder before hurrying to join Lori at the ski rack.
He pulled his gaze from his best friend and stared at the gleaming bands.
This was not what he was expecting, not by a longshot.
“You better put them someplace safe,” Bridget warned.
He nodded, hardly able to believe he held an essential piece to Tom’s wedding in his hand. Without thinking, he put the rings back in the pouch, unzipped his coat’s interior pocket, and tucked the bands inside.
“Hey, Birdie! Don’t let Scooter slack off,” Denise teased, throwing him a little wink as she helped Cole and Carly put on their skis.
