Page 36 of Christmas Charms
“It looks like someone has found her Christmas spirit,” Aidan says after the waiter is gone. He takes in all the shiny bits and bobbles of my glaringly green Christmas sweater and arches a brow.
“Isn’t it the fanciest sweater you’ve ever seen?” Olivia bounces in her seat.
“Fruitcake has one just like it,” Sophie adds.
“Does he, now?” Aidan’s brow creeps even higher.
I nod. “So do my mom and dad. It’s a whole thing.”
Fruitcake chooses that moment to rouse himself from the floor, where he’s been sleeping beneath the table, and plant his head in Aidan’s lap. His tails wags so hard against my shins that I’m convinced everyone in The Owl’s Nest can hear it.
I love that Owl Lake is the sort of place where dogs can sleep under the tables in public diners and no one gets upset. I’d forgotten that little detail about my hometown. It seems I’ve forgotten quite a few things.
Like the way Aidan’s smile can light up a room. And the way he always seems to roll up his sleeves just enough to afford a glance of the rugged muscles moving beneath the skin of forearms. And the way my heart beats fast when I see the tiny flecks of gold in his blue eyes, as shimmery and luminous as starlight.
I knew tagging along on this family outing was a bad idea. I’m ogling a man’s forearms. This can’t be normal.
I lift my latte my lips and take a gulp.
Olivia is seated next to me, and as I reach for my drink, her gaze follows the musical sound my charm bracelet makes every time I move my arm.
Her eyes go wide, and she points to my wrist. “Look! It’s the Owl Lake Christmas tree!”
I follow the aim of her delicate little finger. The silver Christmas tree charm dances and swivels on its chain, and the diamond at the center of its gold star seems to wink at me beneath the moody lighting of the bistro.
“Wow, it does look like the town tree, doesn’t it?” I shove my hand back beneath the table, out of view. “But on some level, don’t all Christmas trees look the same?”
Olivia blinks up at me innocently, unconvinced. Probably because she’s right. Just like the other charms that have somehow come to life, the silver tree charm is indeed a perfect replica of its full-size counterpart. It looks exactly like the enormous tree we just watched light up the sky atop the snowy hill overlooking our town. I checked as soon as the bracelet jingled.
But how am I supposed to explain the striking similarity to an entire table full of my hometown friends?
“All Christmas trees look the same?” Aidan frowns. Here we go again. “That’s a little on the cynical side, don’t you think?”
“Or just a simple observation,” I retort.
“If you say so,” he says.
“Aidan.” Susan pins her brother with a glance of warning. “Leave Ashley alone. She’s only saying thatallChristmas trees are beautiful. Right, Ash?”
“That’s exactly what I meant. I love Christmas trees.” I flash my sauciest smirk at Aidan. How dare he insinuate I’m a Scrooge. “Have you forgotten that I’m practically wearing one?”
I gesture, Vanna White–style, toward my flashy sweater.
“Touché.” Aidan rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling again—wide enough for me to catch a glimpse of the dimples beneath the scruff lining his jaw.
My stomach flips and, caught up in the moment, I blurt the first thought that pops into my head. “Do you still think I look like Audrey, even without the black turtleneck?”
Susan practically chokes on her latte. She’s going to kill me. I’ve just majorly broken BFF code by repeating something she shared with me that her brother had likely told her in confidence.
Oddly enough, Aidan himself doesn’t seem fazed.
“Better,” he says quietly, “I think you look like Ashley.”
Someone might need to scoop me up and put me back together, because I’m on the verge of melting into a puddle.
“Who’s Audrey?” Josh asks, glancing back and forth between Aidan and me.
“Audrey Hepburn. Ashley’s always been a big fan. She loves old movies,” Susan says. “Just like Aidan does.”
