Page 41 of Never Sleigh Never
“The creek’s frozen.” Willa bumps my shoulder. “But with that glare you’re giving Logan, you’ll thaw it by noon.”
“Does he have telepathy or something? It’s like the moment he knows something good’s about to happen to me—poof—he shows up and ruins it.”
“He’s here for me,” Willa says lightly.
My head snaps to her so fast I give myself whiplash. Logan’s here to see Willa? Why?
“Oh my god!” Willa doubles over in laughter. “Not to see me. But your face certainly gave you away.” She laughs again as heat creeps up my neck. “He comes in every morning, and almost every afternoon, to get food for his crew. I’m going to have my best fourth quarter because of him.”
“First Henry and now you. You can’t be fraternizing with the enemy. Where’s the line in the sand?”
“We’re not ten. There are no sandboxes. I don’t have to pick sides.”
“This is a war. A Christmas war. And I can’t have you passing secrets across enemy lines. He can’t know all my marketing tactics on drawing a crowd and keeping everyone entertained.”
She waves a hand at Logan. “He’s a hockey legend. I’m sure he can draw a crowd on his own.”
“Which is precisely why he can’t know any of my surprises.”
“You have a surprise?”
“Maybe? Okay, no. I don’t. Not yet. But I will. I will give him the best damn surprise he’s ever seen.” From across the room, Emma laughs at something Logan says and touches his arm. I shake my head. “I’ve lost her.”
Logan’s gaze skims the diner and lands on me. For a heartbeat, the hostility between us dissipates. He almost looks defeated—something I’ve never seen from him. Then Emma says something, his mouth tips up, and I staple my heart back to my ribs. Now is not the time to get soft.
All afternoon, I conjure up ideas for the demise of Logan—I mean his carnival. But mostly, I avoid Mrs. Kingsley because I don’t want to mention Emma being in town until I nail down a meeting with her. She’ll only be disappointed I didn’t tie her up, throw her in my SUV, and drive her to the festival myself. If there weren’t so many witnesses, it could have been a possibility.
After work, I swing by my parents’ house to drop off some chocolate chip banana bread for my dad since it’s his favorite. He always tells me my bread is the best. At least I’m number one in someone’s eyes.
I pull into my parents’ freshly shoveled driveway and step out.
“Hi Brie!” a voice yells from next door.
I peer over my shoulder, and Josie’s standing next to a snowman that looks like he’s about to rappel off a casino roof. Wide-brim hat. Black mask. Serious swagger. “Hi Josie!” I wave. “I like your snowman. That’s a really pretty scarf.”
“Thank you. It was my mom’s.” Her fingers smooth over the fringe.
My throat tightens. What do I say to that? I don’t know how Logan has described death to his daughter, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin whatever her idea is.
“She’s an angel now. My dad says she’s my guardian angel. Did you know my mom?”
I shake my head. “No, I didn’t. But I heard she was a really great mom.”
“I miss her.” Her head droops toward the snow.
This was not a conversation I was expecting to have today. “I’m sorry. It’s always hard to lose a loved one, especially your mom.”
“Did you lose your mom too?”
“No, my parents actually live here.” I hike my thumb toward my parents’ house.
“Oh, your mom brought cookies over for me and my grandma.”
“My mom does like to bake.”
“I used to bake with my mom. She’d let me stir the batter or add the chocolate chips.”
“When I was your age, that’s what my mom would let me do too.”
