Page 17 of Tangled with the Tight End

“What?” He stares up at her in awe, as if he finds her as pretty as I do.

“I’m taking you to Santa’s Closet.” She winks. “Right after I grab you a cookie. Do you want one that’s shaped as a candy cane or as a reindeer?”

“Candy cane!”

“Good choice.” She grins at him with a conspirator’s smile.

I grab her arm before she disappears with him. “I thought Marco was taking us.”

“He called a few minutes ago. He said he had to work and asked if I minded taking the two of you on a tour.”

“You don’t have to. I’m capable of walking a block down the street and going inside of a shop.”

“I’m sure you’re capable of a lot of things.” Her cheeks tinge pink, and a surge of adrenaline kicks my heart into overdrive. She gnaws on her bottom lip and shifts Gino’s weight on her hip. “Specifically, walking and opening doors.”

“Santa’s Closet.” Gino bounces on her hip.

“I don’t mind taking you.” One corner of her mouth arches upward. “I never pass up the opportunity to convert a city slicker into becoming an Evergreen Lake Ambassador.”

“I don’t know that you can convince me to give up the conveniences of the modern world.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “You act like Evergreen Lake is back in the 1920s. We have modern amenities. We even have Wi-Fi and Caramel Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino iced coffees.” She smirks. “And we left behind the outhouses and lanterns for walking last year. They were too dangerous for us. Those cold winds going up your bum and the possibility of accidentally lighting one of these historic buildings on fire was too risky.”

The line between teasing and being insulted is crossed with every word.

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just used to living in towns with hundreds of thousands of people in them. Not a town of a few thousand.”

She shrugs. “I’m used to it. We’re good enough for a holiday adventure, but not the long-term type. I’ll grab the cookie, and we’ll walk to the shop.”

Without looking at me, she weaves through the tables, stopping to talk to her customers, and disappears into the kitchen.

“Sawyer Mitchell.” The man shoves his hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Norah explained who you were.’

And who did she say I was? The elitist asshole that hates everything small-town and can’t wait to get out of here? It sucks, but it wouldn’t be an inaccurate description, minus the elitist asshole. I don’t look down on other people. Do I?

I grip his hand in mine. Soft but firm. “It’s a pleasure meeting you.” It’s not. I grasp tighter, tighter than I held Gino’s hand earlier, causing him to cringe.

“Thanks.” He jerks his arm, and I let go. “Damn football players.” He chuckles halfheartedly. “Tell Norah I’ve got to get to work, and I’ll stop by and see her later.” He tips his chin outward and surveys me. “So, we can finish our conversation.”

I bite my tongue to keep from telling him to disappear–forever–as he exits the shop.

Is she thinking about marrying this guy? I bet he can’t even bench 150 pounds. How’s he going to save her in a blizzard? Hell, he doesn’t look like he knows how to change a tire.

Buddy, when was the last time you changed a tire? You call someone to do that back home. Well, if I was living here, I could do it–to take care of her and Gino.

What in the fuck? You don’t live here.

Gino bites into his cookie and grins. But all I see is her standing by the counter. Her face is flush, probably from the ovens in the kitchen, which only makes her look more stunning. She glances around the dining area, causing her hair to shine under the lights.

When she licks her lips, I bite back a groan. You’ve got to get your head out of your ass.

After she approaches me with Gino trailing behind her, she frowns. “Where did Sawyer go?”

My hands ball into fists, and as much as I want to tell her he ran off with a 20-year-old co-ed, I relay his message. Her eyes dance in response. “Good.”

Great. She can’t wait to talk to him.

“Are you ready?”

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