Page 21 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

I grunt. “Yes, please.”

CHAPTER SIX

KENNEDY

“The nerve,” I mutter.

Who does Rowan Mayberry think he is, anyway? He acted like I was an infectious disease from the moment I stepped out of the car, and then he dared to wrap his arm around me and pretend I’mhis.

Worse, that natural physical chemistry I don’t have with any of the guys in the house? It leapt between us like flames traveling across a path of paper.

Darn him.

No,damnhim. And damn my mother for hardwiring it into me that ladies shouldn’t swear, because those words feel right.

“Do you think Oliver remembers what happened this spring?” Harry asks in an undertone, glancing back at them. Harry’s still clutching his hat in one hand, his dairy-free drink in the other. I’m grateful for my dairy-heavy hot chocolate. It’s exactly the sort of creature comfort I need right now.

There’s nothing better for solving your woes than a pillow of whipped cream,Olive would say. I feel a fierce press of missing her. True to his words, Harry let me borrow his phone to call her from the sitting room closest to my bedroom last night, and we watched Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen inThe Caseof the Christmas Capertogether—the only Christmas movie the Labelles had in their very small DVD collection. It was laughably bad, and wedidlaugh. A lot. But it’s not the same as watching something together in person.

“Well?” Harry presses, his eyes so full of hope. “He didn’t say anything about it, so maybe—”

“Harry,” I say softly, glancing at him. “I’m sorry, but that’s not the kind of thing someone would forget.”

He sighs heavily. “You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just… Why areyouupset? The whole strumpet thing?”

“Yes!”

“I mean, I guess it is kind of an old-fashioned word. The sort of thing you’d read in a poem rhymingstrumpetandcrumpet.” He lets out a groan as we near the sleigh, and even though the thing looks like it would fall apart if rust weren’t holding it together, I’m guessing that’s not the source of his distress. “I said ‘No dairy for Harry.’ I mean, I’m basically sabotaging myself at every opportunity here. Why didn’t you clamp a hand on my mouth or stomp on my foot really hard? A kick would have been understood—no, welcomed—in this one situation.”

“Huh,” I say, studying him. His nerves seem to prickle off him, as if he’s become a human hedgehog. “You really like this guy, don’t you?”

“What’s not to like?” he asks mournfully. “He’s tall, dark, anddelicious, and he doesn’t accidentally rhyme words and pretend he did it on purpose.”

“He seemed to find it charming,” I say, hoping it’s true. Oliver seemed amused, at the very least, and he hasn’t been trying to keep his distance. I’ve caught him taking surreptitious glances at Harry, although that might be because he’s been behaving peculiarly. Except… “For all we know, he asked Rowan to set this whole thing up.” I pause, thinking about it. “I mean,it’s a little weird that they asked you, right? You don’t strike me as an outdoorsy guy.”

His jaw works. “I own a Prius. I care about the environment.”

It’s not the kind of car you’d go off-roading in, but I don’t say so. Instead, I hurry to assure him, “It’s not an insult. I’m not outdoorsy either. My mother would never let me play outside if it was muddy. Or rainy. Or really anything except sunny and dry.”

He sighs. “I never let myself play outside if it was muddy or rainy. You’re right. I only pretend to like hiking because Tina’s always going on about all the trails around here.” His eyes take on a far-off look. “Do you really think Oliver asked Rowan to set this up?”

“Maybe.” The thought carries me away for a second. It would besoromantic if Oliver had spent the last several months thinking about Harry as the one who got away—literally, since Harry ran off. “You know, how amazing would your ‘this is how we met’ story be if you and Oliver end up getting married?”

Harry laughs, some of his angst floating away. “You think I’d tell everyone that I had a gas explosion the first time he kissed me? That’s going to the grave with me.” He scrunches his features. “Except I did tell you, so I’m already failing at that.”

“I thinkhewould probably tell people.” I grin back at him, then gesture to the sleigh. “Will you take my picture sitting in it?”

He gives it a dubious look. “I know you’re not going to like what I have to say, but Rowan might be right. If that were a wounded animal, it would be taken out to pasture.”

I pull a face. “What a terrible saying.”

“Huh,” he says, tilting his head. “You’re right. I guess I never really thought about it. But seriously, you might get tetanus or something. It’s not a common problem, but if you haven’t gotten your booster, you should really have second thoughts.” He gives a shudder as he takes in the plastic Santa in the driver’s seat. Itlooks like the eyes are supposed to move, but they’re frozen in a grimace. “That thing is absolutely nightmare fuel. I’ll be thinking about that tonight when I’m trying to sleep. No question.”

“Come on, Harry. I want to send a picture to Olive. She’ll get a real kick out of it.”

He sighs and gives a solemn nod. “Be careful where you step. I read a story the other day about a woman who stepped in a fire ant colony and was so badly bitten they had to amputate.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true.”

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