Page 29 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

I steal a look at Kennedy, and she smiles covertly at me, as if Oliver and Harry’s potential romance is a project we’re working on together. I like that more than I should, especially since I would strip my family of every last connection to matchmaking if I could.

Kennedy makes acome heregesture, and I step closer, crowding her because one step doesn’t feel like enough.

She sucks in a breath, then says, “He’s letting Harry help withhistree,”

Her words make me smile.

“Didn’t want you to go back to the house smelling of tree sap, Princess. It would be a tell.”

“You didn’t think I could carry it,” she challenges, tucking some dark hair back into her cap.

“No, I didn’t,” I agree. Because it’s true, and true things should be copped to whenever possible.

“One of these days I’m going to surprise you, Rowan,” she says, looking up at me, close enough that I feel the warm puff of her breath on my face and smell the sweet scent of spiked cider.

I don’t tell her that she has already surprised me. I don’t tell her that I’ve surprised myself more than anyone else ever could. Because, fool that I am, I have a thing for Kennedy Littlefield.

I lean in a little more, almost close enough to kiss her, and—

“Rowan?” someone says from behind me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

KENNEDY

For a second there, it felt like Rowan was about to kiss me.

For a second there, it felt like I was going to—very enthusiastically—kiss him back.

But the stranger might as well have thrown a snowball, disrupting the weird heat building between us. The interruption reminded me that I’m here in Highland Hills for a purpose, and while that purpose is supposedly to fall in love, I’m definitely not supposed to fall in love withhim.

The man’s tall, with hair that falls somewhere in the spectrum between white and blond, and has large blue eyes. He looks a little pale and drawn, as if he’s been pulling too many hours at work.

Rowan turns to him, all prickles again, and I wonder who he’s mad at this time. Himself? Me? This guy?

“Jay,” he says, and I remember his stories about the stepfather who was too good for his mother. It’s a funny twist of fate that he’s here at the same time as us. Then again, Rowan likes this place because Jay used to bring him here, so maybe it’s not that weird after all.

“Haven’t seen you for a while, buddy,” the guy says, coming over and clapping him on the back. “You haven’t been answering my calls.”

I can feel Harry watching us as he and Oliver get the tree situated on top of Oliver’s car. Okay, I’ll be honest, Oliver’s doing most of the work, and Harry’s watching me with a look of concern. He’s probably worried we’ll get caught.

I’m worried we’ll get caught too, but mostly for his sake.

“Yeah,” Rowan says sheepishly. “About that. I’ve been busy.”

Jay nods, as if he’s not surprised to hear it, then says, “It’s too bad Ivy’s not coming home for Christmas.” A corner of his mouth hitches up. “Hard at work on her next book now thatNaughty Saint Nickis out. Number five on Amazon, did you see that?”

Rowan smiles back at him. “Yeah, don’t ask me to read it, though. There are some things you don’t want to know about your sisters.”

“I read them all,” Jay says, then frowns, lifting a hand to his left shoulder and wincing, before continuing. “She marks the pages I should skip.”

“Your sister’s a writer?” I ask Rowan, impressed. “Why didn’t I know that?”

Even as I say it, I know there are plenty of answers that fit. Because I don’t know him all that well. Because Tina didn’t tell me, or maybe she doesn’t know. Because it’s none of my business.

“Maybe I was worried you’d use me for autographed copies,” Rowan says. “It’s happened before.”

It’s more of a playful answer than I expected from him. His stepfather must be surprised by it too, because his gaze turns to me with interest. “Who’s this, now?”

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