Page 48 of Never Sleigh Never
He STOLE my snowman?
Willa
Yeah. The one out front. A deer head for a snowman.
A collection of hi and hey Logans fills the coffee shop. This guy gets a welcoming party every time he enters a room. He’s about to get a party from me, and his party favor will be my fist to his face. My chair scrapes harshly against the floor as I shove away from the table. As I near the counter, the coffee mugs next to the coffee machine rattle with the force of my frustration. Logan’s gaze drifts to mine. Damn him for looking so hot. When I’m only a foot away, his clean, manly scent wafts around me. And damn him for smelling so good too. Focus. I come to a halt, the toes of my boots inches from his.
“I want my snowman back, Logan. You have it, I know. Mason told Willa, and she told me.”
He leans in a fraction, all calm dimples. “I only took it because you took my reindeer.”
“False. I didn’t take the whole reindeer, only the head.”
“You know, those reindeer aren’t cheap.”
“Yes, I’m quite aware of their cost.” And super jealous that you have them.
“Would you have preferred if I had only taken the head of your snowman?” He raises a perfectly sculpted brow.
Stop admiring his eyebrows or getting lost in the brown flecks that swirl in his green irises. “No. But you can’t just go around stealing things.”
“Oh, you’re one to talk.” His mouth twitches. “By the way, how was your date with Simon?”
I rear my head back. “Date with Simon? What are you talking about?” Why is he so concerned about who I date? And why does he think I’m dating Simon.
He shoves his hands into his pockets. “The other night. He asked you out. You hugged.” His casual tone isn’t fooling anybody.
A giggle bubbles up, threatening to escape. Me and Simon? Hell no. Plus, I’m not his type. But Logan asking about it is more telling than anything. Clearly, the idea of me and Simon dating gets under his skin, so I’m going to play into the ruse. I press a hand to my chest like a soap-opera heroine. “Oh. That night.” I give him my sweetest smile. “Yes. Simon and I are dating.”
His dimple falters.
Sloane slides a white pastry box between us like a referee tossing in a puck. “Here’s your taste-test cookies.”
After a several-beat stare off, Logan breaks first. I win! Take that!
He rests a hand on the box. “Thanks,” he says, voice a little gruffer than usual. “Based on the smell, I already know it’s going to be a tough choice of which ones to pick for the carnival.” He pats his jacket pocket and then his jeans. “I forgot my wallet in my truck. I’ll go grab it so I can pay you.”
Sloane waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. Next time.”
“No. I can’t do that. I’ll be two seconds.” Logan spins on his heels and strolls out of the coffee shop.
The bell jingles as he leaves. I’m two parts irritated, one part… appreciating the view. Focus. I narrow my gaze at Sloane. “What the hell? You’re providing cookies for his carnival? Can’t you see he’s trying to drive a wedge between me and my friends? He wants your business, so you’re obligated to take his side.”
“No one is taking sides. If you had seen the number of zeros on the contract he gave me, you wouldn’t have turned it down either. I’m only providing the cookies.” She holds up her hands. “I drew the line at running the booth. Everyone loves my cookies. Not only is it great exposure for the coffee shop but the extra money will help me buy a new espresso machine.” When I don’t release my glare, she continues to soothe my concerns. “Don’t worry, I’m still providing cookies for your festival like I do every year.”
As much as I want to be mad at her, I can’t because, like Willa, I’m sure she’s going to have her best year yet because of Logan. I’m thrilled that this is all working out for her. For me, on the other hand, everything is crumbling to the ground. “It’s business now, until he steals you all away. Like my snowman.”
“The only wedge is the one you’re creating with this ridiculous feud. In fact, this Christmas war needs to stop. You’re tearing the town apart, forcing us to choose sides.”
“No, we’re not. Stop being dramatic.”
“Okay, fine.” She throws her hands up in the air. “I’m just sick of the gossip. You’re the will-they-won’t-they couple of the century with all the sexual tension that radiates from you. Maybe you need to bang it out.”
I shake my head. “No one said that.” Even though after the almost-kiss, it’s crossed my mind a time or two. Hate sex is a thing, right? If not, we could make it a thing. Shove a paper bag over his head and go to pound town. Goosebumps prickle my skin at the thought.
“I’m saying it now. Plus, I need new gossip. I’m over this.”
The bell jingles on Logan’s return. Rays of sunshine illuminate behind him like a halo. He slides his hand through his hair, straightening the strands at the top of his head. Why can’t I tear my gaze away?
