Page 62 of The Christmas Blueprint

“She makes them?” Thomas breathed. “Wow. She’s an artist.” He looked at the different felt squares and the pile of loose wool, the needles stuck in a hedgehog pincushion.

“That’s what I tell her.”

Thomas reached for a red one, and as if on cue, Harlow and Killian entered the store. Her heart did the usual slappy, happy tap dance that she’d stopped trying to ignore. She was happy to see him. He lit her day with expectation, and she was tired of fighting her feelings. She wanted to get out of her rut and push herself, and Killian was part of that, even though she knew it would hurt when he moved back to Seattle.

I’ve survived worse.

“Hey,” she said softly, as their gazes met.

“Hi.”

And then Killian greeted her mom. She’d completely forgotten her mom was in the store.

“Harlow.”

“Thomas.”

The two kids greeted each other like they hadn’t seen each other for weeks instead of yesterday at school. They stood close—foreheads pressed together—and made a weird humming sound.

“You want chocolate chip ice cream.”

“I do,” Thomas confirmed. “You are a mind reader.”

“What was I thinking?” Harlow demanded.

“That you wished you could have a red gnome like mine.” He dangled the gnome above her head.

In another few years, he’d be dangling a sprig of mistletoe above a girl’s head. Sophia grinned at the thought.

“I made that yesterday,” Harlow said. “Sophia taught me how. It’s easy, except you gotta be careful to not poke your fingers. Killian, who’s being my substitute daddy while mine’s far away and can only talk to me on Killian’s phone or computer, bought me some special gloves with rubber tips. I can show you.”

She tugged Thomas over to the workstation. Sophia tied on the pink-cloaked gnome and a sprig of rosemary and handed it to Thomas’s father.

“Above and beyond.” He marveled at the packaging. “I think you will see Thomas again tomorrow. My wife signed up for your wreath-making class with him and my mom.” He lifted the package up. “It’s exciting to have family activities in town. I feel like with the Christmas Market last year and the Christmas Light Garden and now the wreath-making class, Bear Creek is becoming just a little bit more hip.”

“It is.” Sophia felt a surge of excitement. “I’m thinking about offering an ornament-making class the following weekend at the Mill Market,” she said boldly. It was the first time she’d used her name for it in public.

Killian’s attention swung to her. Harlow squealed in excitement. Grabbed Thomas and jumped up and down chanting: “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Really? That’s great. You didn’t seem so keen earlier.”

Totally outed. Sophia shrugged and fiddled with her fishtail braid over her left shoulder since she no longer had the package to busy her hands with.

“You and Harlow are quite persuasive.” She tried to ignore her mother’s increased scrutiny.

“So that means that after Harlow’s and my wreath-making practice lesson tonight, followed by dinner at Verde Valle, I’ll get to treat both of you ladies to another dinner after we learn how to make an ornament.” He dramatically clutched his hands together in prayer. “Unless you fire me.”

Snarky slap-back.

“Hi, Killian.” Thomas’s dad came up to him, hand out to shake. “You might not remember me. David Adams. We were on the track team together, but I was a couple of years younger and a whole lot slower.”

Killian laughed and shook Dave’s hand. “You slayed the shot put though.”

“Weirdly, yes. Can’t believe you remember that. Some friends and I sometimes will set up some targets and practice axe throwing now.”

“I haven’t done that in years.”

Sophia stared at him. She’d had no idea he’d gone out to the woods wielding an axe with a lot of the other boys pretending they were men in high school. He’d always seemed like a man with nothing to prove and too confident to swagger about with bravado.

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