Page 58 of The Thief Who Saved Christmas

I wish I could tell Jake what I’m up to. I definitely wish I could ask him for advice about Anabelle. But I’m not ready totalk to him yet. I figure I’ll know when I’m ready, but it hasn’t happened yet.

As I check out the other kids’ crap, most of it plastic junk that’d offer an hour of enjoyment at most, I feel a growing sense of excitement for my new job.

I bring my basket to the front, and Ada takes one look at the cat and grins at me. “I understand the impulse of a bargain buy, but that won’t fit you, you know.”

I laugh with her. “No, but Santa needs a sidekick.”

“You’ve got children of your own?” she asks shrewdly, looking up at me as she puts the cat in a shopping bag.

“Nah, the stuffed animal is for a friend who has a thing for cats and Santa suits. She runs a B&B, and I figured the kids who are visiting would appreciate some activities.”

She huffs a croupy laugh that suggests she’s adopted the gum habit to kick nicotine. Been there, done that. “This woman the reason you got a bee in your bonnet about playing Santa?”

Yes, dammit.

But it’s not because I want to seduce her. I do, of course, and maybe I could have last night. But she’s too important to seduce. The women I’ve seduced have never stuck around—because while I may know how to have fun, I don’t know how to do much else. And because I don’t trust most people.

I trust her, though. I don’t think she’d ever lie to anyone, not about something important.

All the more reason not to give her anything to lie about. If we were together, I’d have to tell her everything, but she wouldn’t be able to tell other people.

It would never work.

That said, Idowant to please Anabelle. I sure as shit want to earn another of her smiles to erase the look she gave me before she went upstairs last night.

“Maybe,” I admit. “What do you think my odds are?”

Ada makes a honking sound that passes for a laugh and winks at me. “You’d do better without the pillow. See you on Wednesday, stud.”

And just like that I’ve got myself a chance.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

ANABELLE

Saturday, December 6, 19 days before Christmas

Inns in peril: 1

Heart in peril: 1

Santas ordered: I don’t know. I haven’t checked the website. I think I’m unwell.

Text conversation with Weston

Are you dating that thug, Belle?

Your father said he saw you at an estate sale with him the other day.

Big mistake.

It’s none of your business who I am or am not dating.

Ryan’s done a few sweet things for me, sure, but last night he made it clear that his kindness stemmed from obligation. So as soon as I got back up to my room, I removed the sweater and folded it into a neat square. A wasted effort, to be sure, since I will have to get it dry-cleaned, but it felt like a message.

Not to Ryan, who won’t see it, but to myself.

Do not get attached to this man. He doesn’t want you.

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