Page 51 of The Christmas Blueprint

He was about to see what Harlow was “painting” with water, but the front door opened with a whoosh of chilly night, and Sophia swept in looking like a cover model of a Sundance catalog.

“Hey, girl. Impeccable timing. All the work is done,” Riley greeted her.

“Brilliant on my part.” Sophia shrugged out of her fleece-lined floral duster, burgundy scarf and burgundy with pink crocheted flowers beanie.

Killian hurried forward to collect her clothing, staggered as always by her effortless, elegant, yet casual beauty and charm that emanated like an expensive perfume. “Thank you, my knight in the night.” She smiled at him. “I didn’t hear back from you after your meeting with the mayor. I was a little worried that he chomped off too many hunks of flesh, leaving you bleeding out on his expensive carpet for which the taxpayers will now have to foot the cleaning bill.

“Lovely image.” He had a crazy impulse to kiss her petal-soft cheek. No. They weren’t dating. He quickly hung up her coat with the scarf draped over it and tucked her beanie in the coat pocket. He sucked in a deep breath to gain his composure.

He turned around, and she was holding out her gloves for him to add to her collection. He held them, unable to look away.

Remember the plan. One year back. In and out. No one gets hurt. Career experience.

Nope. His brain shied away from all reminders, instead fascinated with how even when Sophia’s generous lips tilted up in a smile, her lower lip still looked pouty like he should catch it with his teeth and soothe the sting with his tongue. Her dark eyes danced with a silver sheen of good humor, and her eyelashes held a hint of sparkle as if she’d dusted the tips with glitter.

“Playing with a glitter bomb again,” he teased, his voice so deep it barely croaked out. His finger reached out to touch her temple where there was a light gold dusting.

“Hazard of the season.”

“Did you bring one?” Harlow called out from the nook.

“I did.” Sophia shifted her attention, and somehow her smile shifted to a higher wattage, and then she was there, body pressed against him, her arm snaking around him.

Instinctively he put his hands on her hips.

“Excuse me,” she breathed, stilling in his arms, her breath warm and cinnamon teased his lips.

“What?” he asked stupidly. Was she going to kiss him? Here? In front of everyone? Finally?

The room seemed unnaturally quiet. Tense. Or maybe that was just him with his blood thundering in his ears like a winter storm tearing across the Siskiyous.

“I need something in my coat.”

He stared at her. She’d spoken. What had she said? Oh. Yes. Coat.

“Oh. Sorry.” He jumped back, releasing her like she was scorching hot.

And she was. But he couldn’t think like that. He’d known her his whole life. Riley’s friend. Enrique’s fiancée. Permanent Bear Creek citizen. Devoted to making her town better. And he was here as just one more step in his journey.

He knew the mantra. Why did he keep forgetting?

He’d never been hung up on a woman in his life.

Except this one.

“Not one but two,” Sophia sang out and brushed past him like nothing had happened, while he still felt stupid, flushed with heat.

He stared helplessly at Sophia’s back as she walked into the living room, dangling two red elf-looking creatures from one finger. Harlow jumped up, still clutching the board, glass of water with the brush in it.

“Two she breathed. Oh. Look. A boy and girl.”

“They are friends, and I thought they’d want to stay together to go on your tree.” Sophia looked back toward the empty Christmas tree that Riley had delivered and set up today as if he’d forget.

“And you can really teach me to make these?”

“If you want. They decorate the custom-gift-wrapped boxes and bags at the Christmas Walk this weekend and also at the Christmas Market. I’d love your help if you want to and Killian approves.”

“I do.” Harlow hopped excitedly, and then she looked back at him. “Is it okay? I can walk to Sophia’s store after school. She said we could make the ornament elves and forest creatures out of wool. It’s called felting. And Mr. Shi is teaching me calligraphy. This is my name. She brandished a blank board.

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