Page 7 of Flake It Til You Make It

“Hey,” Taylor said to Heath. “You thinking about making a run for it, yet?”

Heath gave him a semi-embarrassed smile. “I do this entertainment stuff for a living, so it shouldn’t be so . . .so . . .”

“I get it,” Taylor said, shoving his hands into his charcoal gray jacket.

“Well, you’re the deputy mayor, so that means you signed up for this, right? You enjoy it.”

Taylor did not remind Heath Kelly that he hadalsosigned up for this. Albeit temporarily.

“Actually,” Taylor said, “I love it.”

Heath gave him a surprised look. And yes, okay, Taylor didn’t look like a guy who was obsessed with Christmas.

He looked like who he was, on the outside, anyway. An urban guy in his early thirties, fit and decent looking, upwardly mobile with a job in marketing or IT or business, with a good wardrobe.

Hehadbeen that guy. He’d tried to be, anyway. It hadn’t stuck.

If you peeled him open, underneath his thick, sober charcoal peacoat and navy cashmere sweater, he’d bleed red and green and glitter.

“Yeah? That’s cool. I do this kind of thing, a lot. Comes with my job, too. All this holiday rah-rah cheer. But the funny thing is, I’m usually bundled up in the heat of August, sweating through my sweater and coat, wishing I could rip the scarf off and take a deep breath.” Heath chuckled. “And the snow’s always fake.”

“Not so fake here.”

Heath seemed like a decent enough guy. Maybe Taylor should be doing what Mona had suggested, but that easy charm that worked so well on the townspeople felt frozen when it came to a romantic possibility.

It hadn’t always been that way.

“Nope,” Heath said with a grin. “So I hear I’m getting a liaison, for, like, the festival events.” He gave Taylor another quick once-over. “Please tell me that’s gonna be you.”

Taylor was flattered. Still frozen, but flattered.

“Actually, no,” Taylor said apologetically. “That’s going to be Murphy Clark. He carves the gnomes. I’m sure you’ve seen them around town.”

Last year, the festival organizer, Griff, had convinced Murphy to do the liaison job, because by the time they headed into the five weeks before Christmas and the prime festival season, Murphy was always at a loose end. He’d already done all his work, throughout the year.

Plus, Murphy had an easy, quiet way about him. Supportive and friendly. When Griff had mentioned they should approach him again for the job, Marlene had argued that the only reason he’d agreed at all last year was because of the torch he’d been carrying for Jem Knight, last year’s grand marshal.

But when they’d asked, to everyone’s surprise, Murphy had agreed. He’d never be a people person, but after dating Jem for the whole year, Taylor could see that he’d begun to come out of his shell more.

“Oh yeah? The gnome guy? I think I met him at Rudolph’s the other night. He’s the one who’s dating the really hot football player.” Heath winced. “The one who replaced me last year, when I broke my leg.”

“Yep, that’s Murphy. Big guy. Gnome carver. Plaid-and-Jem-Knight aficionado.”

“Cool. I liked him.”

Taylor patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll be in expert hands with him. The guy grew up here. He’s practically Christmas Falls in a single person.”

Heath shot him a flirtatious glance. “I thought that was you. Loving it so much here and all.”

He should be flattered. He should not only be flattered, he should be listening to Mona’s advice and taking Heath up on all these promising looks he kept sending Taylor’s way.

When would he ever get to say he’d hooked up with a bona fide movie star?

If ego mattered, it would be full to bursting at even the possibility.

But Heath still left Taylor cold.

“I do love it,” Taylor agreed. Patted him again. “Come on, Mona’s getting ready to make her speech, and we’re on smile and wave duty. You can say a few things if you’d like, but it’s not a requirement.”

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