Page 30 of Under the Mistletoe
“See, you say that—” Austin stood as Libby and Hannah walked out of the store with bags in their hands. He took the bags from his pregnant wife. “But then you were pretty quick to jump in to drive her around earlier this week.”
“I was just helping out.” Logan gave up his search for the file and slid his phone back in his pocket.
“Helping out, or not liking the idea of Greyson helping her out?” Libby pinned him with a stare like only a big sister could. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the timing of that.”
“And you are on the list of volunteers for skating.” Hannah pinched her lips together as if trying to look innocent, but the corners of her eyes crinkled, giving her away. “How did that happen?”
Honestly, he didn’t know. But that hadn’t been about Devin, not completely. “Easton, the oldest boy the Barlows are adopting, is having a hard time. We connected at the race, and I hoped if I went skating?—”
Hannah’s mouth dropped slightly open as Libby’s hand flew to her chest.
“What now?”
The women exchanged a look before Libby stepped closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Here I thought my baby brother just had a crush, but this is so much more.”
“More?” What were they talking about?
Luke shrugged and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’ve locked yourself away in that cabin for almost a year and don’t make time for anyone besides family and fictional characters. They have been a little worried about you. I haven’t, but I used the same playbook for a while.”
“Until Jimmy.” Hannah pointed at Logan as if that made it all come together. It didn’t.
“Yes.” Evidently it came together for Libby. “Jimmy, who awoke that desire to grow up and be about something bigger than yourself.”
“Whoa.” Logan held up his hands. “I am not adopting Easton and his siblings. I just said I would go skating.”
“We aren’t suggesting that.” Hannah shook her head. “We are suggesting that you are finally…thawing.”
“Because I was frozen?” He crossed his arms in front of himself. This was going from bad to worse. “Maybe we should go back to talking about how I’m putting my repressed emotions on the page.”
“Right.” Hannah leaned toward her husband and lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “Do we know if he sees himself as Rand or Orin yet?”
“Neither.” Logan closed his eyes, drew a calming breath, and dropped his hands. “It’s a story. I don’t write autobiographies.”
“But you write what you know.” Austin moved closer to Libby as she reached for the drink in his hand.
“I tap into emotions I know. But…” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Maybe this one was hitting a little closer to home than some. But it is fiction.Onlyfiction.”
He should have never started this stupid story.
“Relax. It isn’t like anyone knows who Victor Holt is.” Hannah patted his arm. “And if they did, they don’t have the inside scoop on your life like we do.”
“True. We’ve all known you had a thing for Devin since the first time you and Liam brought her to Mom and Dad’s for the weekend.” Libby said the words, but they all confirmed it with a nod.
Everything was spinning out of control. “It was a group of friends.Liaminvited her. I was just there.”
“See, that’s why I think he might be Rand in the story.” Hannah was talking directly to Libby. “He wants the girl, and she wants him, but he doesn’t see it.”
“Would you all stop? I don’t need to thaw. I’m not in the story. Devin isn’t in the story. And Devin doesn’t want me.”
“We think she might.” Hannah exchanged looks with Libby. “At the very least, there is a spark of interest.”
“Like the looks she was giving him at Thanksgiving.” Libby nodded. “And did anyone else notice how red she got when he offered to drive her on Sunday?”
“Have you ever considered telling her how you feel?” Hannah’s voice held a sympathetic edge his siblings were lacking. He wasn’t about to answer that question, but at least his sister-in-law wasn’t enjoying roasting him for sport.
Seriously? “You’re all being absurd.”
“Not as absurd as liking a girl who likes you and never asking her out.” Austin slipped his arm around his wife’s waist. Got it. No sympathy from the brother-in-law.
