Page 61 of Never Sleigh Never
“Suuure,” she teases.
I hate that there’s a teeny tiny part of me that doesn’t hate the way my chest flutters every time he’s near. Or how his stupid dimple makes my knees weak. That he thinks of tiny things—like dryer sheets. How my heart skips a beat every time I see him being the best dad to his daughter. Or how my skin prickles with goosebumps every time he touches me. I hate I want it, all of it. All the time.
Willa nudges me and points to the far end of the rink. “Isn’t that the Christmas blogger over there?”
I squint toward the far side of the rink. “Yes. Emma. What is she doing here? There’s nothing Christmas about the hockey tournament.”
“That guy is wearing a Santa hat over his helmet, so it’s kind of Christmas-y. You should go talk to her. Get that meeting so you can gush about the Holly Jolly Festival.”
“I should! I’m going to go do that right now!” Leaping from my seat, I scoot past the row of people until I’m racing down the stairs while maintaining a visual of Emma’s position. Once on solid ground, I weave through the crowd of people.
“Oh, Brie! Brie!”
I ignore my name and quicken my steps.
“Brie! I have a question.”
Oh, my god. I didn’t know Mrs. Albertson could move so fast for being an eighty-year-old woman. I grind to a stop and paste on a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you calling.”
“That’s okay, dear. I wanted to ask are there still three rounds for the Christmas cookie bake-off?”
“Yep, there sure are. We’ve always had three rounds.” My gaze flicks over her head. I still have Emma in sight.
“Oh, good. Betty believed there were only two. Sheryl thought there was just one.”
“Nope. There’s still three. I haven’t changed it.” I bounce on the balls of my feet, not wanting to be rude, but also I need her to speed up this conversation.
“Great. I’ll let them know. Thanks, dear.”
“You’re welcome.” I rush past her and weave in and out of carnival goers.
“Brie!” I pinch my eyes shut when I hear my name again. I glance over my shoulder, and Mr. Jacobson is waving like he’s hailing a taxi. “Oh, Brie! You have to thank your father for the brand-new snow shovel he sold me. It works like a dream. He had the perfect display showing me the good, better, and best of all the shovels. Of course, I had to get the best.”
“Oh, that’s great, Mr. Jacobson. I’m so glad it’s working out for you.”
“Yeah, when we got that snow the other night, the snow shovel came in handy.”
“Fantastic.” I flash him a fake smile. “I’ll be sure to let my dad know.” I peer around him to make sure I don’t lose Emma.
“Thankfully the snow came a few nights ago instead of today. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have such a beautiful day.”
“Yes, I agree. If you’ll excuse me.” I slide past him and continue beelining it toward Emma.
“Hi Brie! I’m so glad to see you.”
Kill me now. “Hi, Mrs. Parker.”
“Is the Christmas parade still at noon?”
“It is, yes. It’s always at noon.”
“How long do you think it’ll last? I’ve heard there are some extra floats this year.”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Okay, great. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I flash her a quick smile before weaving around her. I don’t even make it two steps before a hand on my forearm stops me.
