Page 43 of The Christmas Blueprint

“Text me when you’re leaving the school, and I’ll meet you at the site. I think it will be easier for me to explain what I’ve been thinking about and also for me to visualize your ideas.”

“It’s a date.” Harlow hopped off the chair and picked up her hot chocolate. “I knew you were a couple. You have the whole—” she wiggled the fingers of her left hand “—couple vibe. If you get married, can I be a flower girl?” She cocked her head. “We could wear crowns of wild flowers like wedding fairies. And I could wear the raspberry scrunchie and have a dress that matched.”

“Speaking of which.” Sophia slid the raspberry scrunchie over Harlow’s wrist. “Both of these are a gift,” she said lightly, but mock glared at Killian, who was actually reaching for his wallet. She was going to maturely ignore the ‘if you get married’ comment.

“Thank you for the coffee. We’re even.” Definitely not thinking about what Harlow said. Not now. Not later.

“You put glitter on me, Soph. We’re not even close to even.”

“I look forward to your clap back.” She smiled and took a sip of heaven.

Killian laughed and ushered Harlow out the door.

“I can do this.” Sophia looked at herself in the mirror as the door closed behind them. She had a touch of glitter on her cheeks and hair and even in her eyelashes. She smiled. It was hard to get too mopey in the presence of glitter and a long to-do list. “I can do anything,” she whispered. “I’m magic. And my heart is bulletproof.”

*

Sophia slipped outof the bakery and headed down the five blocks of Bear Creek’s historic Main Street toward the park and riverfront path. She should have driven. The sky definitely looked like it was going to dump, and it was getting close enough to the bone-tingling cold that signaled snow. But she loved the knife edge of cold, fresh, pine-scented air that hurtled over the Siskiyou Mountains, screaming insults and hurling icy rain or snow.

Winter was just as beautiful as the warmer, sunnier, and more colorful seasons in the valley. The cold reminded her that she was alive and gave her a chance to bundle up in beautiful hand-loomed or knit sweaters and scarves, many of which she modeled for her store. And that reminded her. Sophia stopped on the middle of the sidewalk on historic Main Street—which typically was quiet so early—and typed out a message to Riley.

Know you’re busy. Need your body 4 new merch.

She often dragged her friends in to model for the shop’s social media accounts. Riley was the most reluctant, but she had such a unique vibe and was so physical that Sophia loved the results. And people came in when she posted Riley.

Perv

Plz

2nite? Have new lights. After clz

Sophia sent a thumbs-up emoji, already mentally cataloging what she would have Riley do or wear. She had new jewelry in, but she’d already had some of her high school interns take pictures of several of those pieces down by Bear Creek along the reeds and rocks. She always loved when things looked more organic, part of nature.

Sophia was thinking so much about her store and merchandise, she arrived at the Applegate Mill quickly—just as Killian pulled up and the sky ripped open.

“Run,” he shouted, peeling off his jacket and holding it over both of their heads as they dashed the short distance to the door. Killian quickly unlocked it and tugged on it to slide open. Of course, today was the day it stuck.

Sophia grabbed the huge iron pull and put all her weight in it to help. She bounced off Killian and slid in a puddle, but together they got the door open and crammed through the opening together.

Sophia laughed and unwound her hooded alpaca wrap, shaking off the water that had beaded.

“Oh, it worked,” she marveled, smiling triumphantly at Killian. His chestnut hair with its lighter streaks was damp, curling over his darker, thick brows. And his shirt was mostly soaked, clinging to his broad chest and taut abs.

And just like that, Sophia’s heart thumped hard, her body hollowed, and her laugh choked off like an offended chicken.

Look away.

Only she couldn’t.

And he stared at her. The look in his eyes fractured her breath.

Step back. Look away.

“Kills?” she whispered, afraid to blink in case she missed something as his head blotted out her view of the room.

There was only Killian, tall and strong and vibrant in front of her. Drips of water clung to his curls and one even beaded on his eyelashes. His shirt hugged the outline of his broad shoulders and was plastered across his defined pecs.

“Soph.” His voice creaked.

---