Page 63 of Never Sleigh Never
“Do you think he’ll draw a crowd?”
“Of course. He’s a local hockey legend. He is charming, charismatic, and oddly thoughtful. And he’s a wonderful dad. So sweet to his daughter. It would be hard for people not to like him.” Shit. Shit. That’s too much. “However, the Holly Jolly Festival should have an amazing turnout. We’re projecting a thousand more visitors than in previous years.”
“That’s wonderful. It’s reassuring to hear that small-town festivals haven’t lost their charm.”
“Yes! My sentiments exactly. I plan on doing everything in my power to not only keep the tradition going but to make it bigger and better each year.”
Val strolls by, shooting me a subtle are you done yet? look. I shake my head.
Emma peers over her shoulder and waves her over. “Excuse me? Can I order breakfast? The lemon ricotta blueberry pancakes sound divine.”
“Yes. Certainly. I’ll get those going for you right away.” Val scribbles the order, throws me an apologetic glance, and retreats.
Emma directs her attention to me. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to make a phone call.”
“Thank you for sitting down with me to chat about the Holly Jolly Festival. I hope it’s inspiring enough to make it onto your blog. The townsfolk would love it. They’d think they were famous.”
“Yes. It’s a wonderful story. It was nice to meet you again, Brie.” She holds out her hand for me to shake.
“Same.” She loosens her grip and exits the room.
Once she’s out of sight, Val slides back in, soft-eyed. “Sorry, Brie. I didn’t want her thinking we were slow on service in case she mentions the inn on her blog.”
“It’s fine.” I sigh. “Thanks for letting me crash.”
“I hope you get the article you want.”
“Me too.” I might get something, but I don’t know how much of it will be with regard to the festival since my big mouth can’t stop turning every conversation into one about Logan. And if I’m not careful, my heart’s about to follow.
Twenty-Two
Naughty or Nice
Logan
To say the hockey tournament was a success is an understatement. All weekend from midafternoon until well past dusk, the stands were packed with people cheering on every team in the tournament. The entire town of Mount Holly shut down and came out for a weekend of hockey. I couldn’t have asked for a better kickoff to the carnival. To my surprise, Brie was even in the stands. It was hard to keep my eyes off her as I skated around the rink. Normally, I’m not the guy who gets distracted while on the ice, but there she was in the winter sun, brown hair loose over her shoulders, laughing at something Willa said, and my chest went warm in a way that felt… dangerous. We locked eyes for half a second. It hit me like a clean check. God, I’d missed that feeling.
After we won our first game, I scanned the crowd for her, but she was gone. When I caught up with Willa, she told me Brie left to talk to the Christmas blogger, and an unfamiliar hollow ache settled in my chest. I was hoping to see her and talk to her. Hell, I would have even argued with her if it got me near her. Maybe that’s karma for slipping away after the Holly Jolly tree lighting—Brooke’s favorite tradition at home—but seeing her on stage knocked the air out of me. I had to leave.
We played one more game before the tournament came to an end. It was a close one, but we squeaked out a win with a top-shelf rip from Carson at the buzzer. Back at my truck, I’m tossing my hockey equipment into the back when something black shoved under the seat draws my attention. Reaching under, I pull out a black top hat. Brie’s snowman. It’s naked without it. And Mount Holly doesn’t need naked snowmen.
I hop in my truck and drive past her house, but all the lights are off. As I drive past the Crooked Reindeer, her SUV isn’t in the parking lot. I decide to check one more place. I pull onto the festival grounds, and everything is dark. Off in the distance, a soft glow illuminates a window in one of the buildings. As I drive closer, Brie’s SUV comes into view. Parking next to her vehicle, I grab the top hat from my passenger seat and climb out. Christmas music plays softly from inside the building marked Santa’s Workshop. Snowflakes flutter down from the sky, calmer than my erratic pulse. Lifting my hand, I rap my knuckles against the wood. I don’t know why I’m here or why I have to give the top hat to Brie now, but I just want to see her. Even if it’s for a second before she slams the door in my face. I want to inhale her sweet lavender scent so I can go home and dream about it.
The door opens a few seconds later. Brie’s whiskey-colored eyes light up. “Logan. What are you doing here?”
Relief washes over me. No bitter words spewed my way. But she asked me a question, and I need to answer. “Well, when I went to exchange the stolen goods that you failed to come to, I forgot this.” I hold up the black top hat.
“Oh. Um. Thanks.” She plucks the hat from my grasp.
“So why didn’t you show up that night?”
A gust of wind sends snowflakes swirling around us. Her shoulders scrunch as she fights a shiver. “Come in. It’s a little too cold to heat the outdoors.” She opens the door wider and motions for me to come inside. Once I get through the doorway, the door closes with a soft click.
Inside, a small portable heater sits in the corner of the one-room wooden building. Along one wall sits a fake fireplace with stockings on the mantel. A big red high-back chair sits in another corner next to a fully decorated Christmas tree. Wrapping paper and ribbons cover the floor and table. She sets the top hat on the table next to a wrapped present and bites her lip. “Would you believe I was washing my hair?”
I shake my head. “Cut the bullshit. For once, I actually thought we were moving past all this. Whatever our history is, it was years ago. It’s time to get over it.”
She throws her hands up in the air. “Easy for you to say, Mr. Gets Everything He Wants With the Snap of His Fingers.”
