Page 90 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

I try to look away, but I’m not quick enough, and Zach catches my eye.

Does he know?

He can’t know.

Shit, though, there’s something in his gaze that tells me he does.

Schnappsicles.

Nerves twist through me like tree roots as he approaches our table.

“Zach’s here,” I say through my teeth.

“Who’s Zach?” Ivy asks loudly as she plays with one of her blond curls.

From the way Zach angles his head as he approaches the table, he clearly heard her. I grimace at Ivy. She gives a shrug.

Zach and Tina reach the table.

“Hey, guys, can we join you?” Tina says as she lowers into the chair next to mine. There are no chairs left, but Zach murmurs something to the table of women next to us, and it’s no one’s surprise when they cough up a chair. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if they just gave up the chair of someone who’s in the bathroom, because according to Holly, Zach’s the kind of guy who has charisma. Holly has also said that I lack any.

Thanks, Holly.

My whole body tingles as Tina gives me a significant look.

“Hi,” I say, at a lack for words.

“Hello, stud,” she says, taking one of the fries Holly wordlessly offered by shoving the plate across the table.

I get to my feet. “I need to…” I start, hoping an acceptable excuse will filter in. “I’ll be right back.”

It’s not really an acceptable excuse, but it is, at least, a statement of some sort. I leave the table without any real destination. For a second, I consider crashing Oliver and Harry’s date to yell at Harry about the Schnappsicles, but they both look like they’re having fun. There are no squirrels tonight, no dairy, no lavender-based creams—just the two of them. It looks like they’re all they need.

I think about bringing Kennedy here, about eating fries with her and Holly. About the glint of happiness she’d get in her eyes if I brought her to Christmas All Year Coffee. The discomfort I felt earlier drifts away, replaced by a kernel of happiness in my chest. I can see the image so clearly because part of me feels like shebelongshere. I like that thought a whole lot. Of course, I might be lying to myself, but the picture in my head is clear and crisp, so perfect…

I wander toward the bathroom and use it since I’m there. When I leave, Zach Littlefield is waiting for me in the hallway, leaning against the wall with a wry look on his face.

“Hey, man,” I say.

“Hey,” he says, standing up straight. “You got my sister that dog, didn’t you?”

So we’re doing this, then…

“Technically, Rory got him,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t have those kinds of connections.”Or that kind of money.

He studies me as he nods. “Yeah, I wondered.”

I feel myself bristling internally, although I couldn’t say why. Maybe because I’d like to be able to do something like that for Kennedy without having my soon-to-be brother-in-law’s help. Maybe because I feel a little inadequate, honestly, when stacked up against her rich suitors. They have enough money to buy her a fleet of bulldogs. I have a creaky old family home I share with my sister and Harry, a workshop, and a bank account that’s never exceeded four digits.

I cross my arms, realize it probably makes me look antagonistic, and drop them at my sides. “She was lonely,” I say defensively. “She said she’s always wanted a puppy.”

“You did good,” Zach says with a grin that slides into a grimace. “She was lonely there. Those guys are all assholes. Big shock. It took me all of two minutes to get them climbing ornamental trellises to compete with each other. They’re notthere for my sister. They’re not looking out for her needs. They just want to be on camera, you know?”

He’s studying me as he says it, like I’m a book he wants to read, which is hilarious for any number of reasons, including that neither of us are probably big readers.

“Youlooked out for her,” he says.

It’s a searching remark, and I know that I could handle this one of two ways: I could tell him it was no big deal and suggest we go back out there and drink a beer together. Or—

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