Page 44 of Christmas in Paradise

At this, his gaze drifts to mine, and we lock eyes.

Seconds pass before I come to my senses. “Yeah,” I clear my throat and look away. “And not a far drive from the chapel.”

Uncle Rad tugs on her leash, and Seb walks her a few steps away. I’m grateful for the distance.

It’s hard not to think about whether I’ll get my own wedding one day. Not when I’m in the middle of planning a huge double wedding for two couples whose romances have played out partially on social media and TV.

I want what they have, but it’s hard to picture it for myself. Not when I come as a party of two. But that doesn’t keep me from wishing for my own romantic wedding someday.

I watch Seb as he walks Uncle Rad around the perimeter of the barn. First to the back doors, which he opens wide. He folds his body over the barrier blocking the exit, letting his feet leave the floor and his head hang over the other side. I gasp. The ground outside is at least three feet below the door.

“You’re going to break your neck!” I yell across the room.

He lowers himself back to the floor and shoots me a smile that says I reacted exactly like he’d hoped I would. I turn away before he catches my own smile, then walk toward the side door, trying not to look at him.

But I feel his gaze on me as he leads Uncle Rad to the same door. I glance at him when I hear her paws scraping the floor. He gently tugs on her leash, but he’s let her have too much of it. She has too much freedom and won’t listen to him.

To his credit, he stays patient with her as he crosses the room to stand next to me. The way he looks at me makes me question, again, my decision to keep him at arm’s length. Is he hoping I’ll change my mind?

Judging by the look in his eye, he is.

Uncle Rad tugs the leash, trying to pull him in the opposite direction, but Seb stays planted next to me. He’s wearing a thick jacket, and smells like leather and soap mingled with the barn’s pine. It’s a sharp, but not overpowering scent that conjures up images of roaring fires in libraries full of hard-bound books. Warm and comfortable.

Too comfortable.

I shift away from him and return my focus to what we’re here to do. “We should figure out if we’re going to need generators or other power sources to keep everything lit. How many outlets do we have? Are we going to need extension cords? Power surge protectors?”

“Let’s check out the electrical box outside first. I installed it, but I don’t remember what kind of wattage we’re working with.” He steps toward the door, brushing my arm, but Uncle Rad is immovable.

Seb slides the door open. At that moment, a couple of scampering squirrels stop in front of the open doors. Rad barks, tugging manically at her leash. Instead of running from her, they run toward all three of us. And maybe I’m imagining things, but I swear they’re taunting us. Or maybe this is a coordinated charge and we’re under attack.

Uncle Rad yelps and darts back to us, then turns around to bark at them.

“Stay still,” Seb says. “They won’t hurt you; they just want food.”

“I don’t have any food!” I yell over Uncle Rad’s manic barking.

Just before they reach us, Seb loses his hold on Uncle Rad’s, and she dashes toward the squirrels. The squirrels pivot in the opposite direction and run away with Uncle Rad chasing them into the frost-covered pasture, barking at the top of her lungs.

Seb runs after her, shouting her name. I rush to the other door to catch Rad from the opposite side and run outside out after her.

Uncle Rad is going crazy, running through weeds and sharp thistles stiff with cold, until the squirrels run up a lone, leafless tree. With her front paws on the trunk, Uncle Rad goes up on her hind legs and keeps barking.

Seb almost grabs her, but she dashes away before he can. I try to corner her, but she doubles back toward Seb who’s finally able to scoop her up.

She’s covered in mud and burrs and Seb’s face is red with fury. I cover my mouth, trying not to laugh. But the whole thing is hilarious.

But Seb doesn’t think so. He stomps back to me, scolding Uncle Rad, and obviously frustrated. “I don’t know why she doesn’t listen when I tell her to stop.”

“She’s a puppy. That’s why.” I can’t stop myself from laughing. “She doesn’t know better.”

He’s still scowling, so I try one more time to help him see the humor in the situation. I’ve never owned a dog, so I make the only comparison I can. “You should see the kind of stuff Charly does. She’s poured whole bottles of shampoo into the tub more than once, after I’ve told her not to. She likes bubbles as much as Uncle Rad likes chasing squirrels.”

“Those are Lynette’s squirrels. She’s fed them so often that now they’re menaces.” His jaw works back and forth as he kneels down to examine Uncle Rad.

“Is she the one who wears the tinfoil hats to protect her from aliens?” I bite back a smile, because now I’m picturing Lynette in her hat surrounded by squirrels holding out their little paws for food.

“That’s her.” He pulls a burr off Uncle Rad and tosses it outside. The wind blows it right back in, which only makes him angrier.

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