Page 22 of The Christmas Blueprint

“No,” he said firmly and turned away from her and her beauty and the almost unbearable temptation she presented.

She’d been Enrique’s.

She was Bear Creek and all that he’d left behind.

And he was not staying.

*

No?

Killian began walking briskly away toward the diner where they’d heard Bruce and Les were eating breakfast.

No to her?

Humiliation washed through her but so did anger. Arrogant man.

She caught up to him easily.

“I wasn’t asking.” She modulated her tone to what she hoped sounded like wry amusement—helped that she’d had a drama teacher mom active in the community theater because from the moment she’d been able to read, her mom had drafted her to run lines with her. “But glad to see your confidence is intact.”

He swallowed; color washed along his high cheekbones.

She shoots. She scores.

She should have left it there. But no. Sophia had had four older brothers she’d had to bang against growing up. She knew how to hold her own, only usually she was stealthier.

“What are you doing back here if it’s such a step down for you?”

“It’s not. It is.”

“Thank you for clarifying.”

Killian jerked to a stop. “It’s not you, Soph.”

“Oh. Let me guess—it’s you,” she sang out.

Killian ran a lean hand through his hair, and pleasure speared her. She remembered that move of his in high school. She’d thought it was hot then. Killian had always had lovely hair—a rich brown with red and gold highlights in the sun, and it was thick, shaggy with more than a hint of curl. It had whispered to be touched then, but she’d been so girlishly crushing. Now that she was a woman, his hair begged for exploration so much that her fingers—jammed in her coat pockets—flexed.

“This isn’t going to work,” Killian said. His voice held frustration, but his eyes were bleak.

What was up with that? She wasn’t so easy to dismiss as she had been as a kid.

“It has to,” Sophia shot back. “You might be slumming it in Bear Creek, or looking for a line on your résumé, but this is my town. This is my stand. I want a say in its future. I joined the planning commission so that I can advocate for projects that will benefit the Bear Creek community—economically and socially. I want that building to be donated to the city, and I want a say in what it becomes. I may not have all your degrees, but I know what this town needs.”

She chose her words with care, but she felt a little reckless, almost like a warrior on top of a hill, sword of truth in her hand, preparing to charge.

Killian stared at her for a long moment, and she wondered what was going on in his head. His eyes were a vivid green and intent on her. If it was a staring contest or a battle of wills, she intended to win.

“Okay.”

Sophia blinked. “Okay?” she repeated. “I expected something more epic.”

Killian, hands in the pockets of his North Face puffer jacket spread out his arms. He shook his head and smiled wryly. “I did too,” he admitted.

Sophia knew he wasn’t talking about his one-word answer to her passionate monologue. Killian was more complicated than she realized. More fascinating. And she loved a mystery.

She had to get back to her store, but she also needed to be with Killian when he saw the former grain storage building in the daytime because she intended to be clear that she was going to be involved in the process. And she wanted to share her vision for the building’s future—get him onboard and enthused because she definitely needed his expertise and help.

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