Page 24 of Snow Harm, No Foul

The wings in my stomach vanish. “Oh, I’m okay with just water.”

“I tweaked the daiquiri recipe. Thought I could put ’em on the drink menu for the event.” He takes my hand and starts pulling me further into the bar. “Peppermints instead of strawberries.”

“That’s brilliant, actually,” I muse, even if the thought of smelling anything scented makes me want to vomit.

I’ve cut using perfume at all after realizing that I hate the scent of my favourite one now that I’m pregnant. At least the smell of the bar hasn’t upset my stomach much.

Niko glances down at me in surprise. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely. What else have you thought of putting on the menu?”

“Only came up with that one.”

“You could have done anything, Niko. Obviously, you’ll do a beer special, but you should do another once-a-year drink. Something with maybe whiskey?”

“Peppermint moonshine.”

My cheeks flame. “Do you like peppermint moonshine?”

“I’ve taken a likin’ to it the past couple’a weeks, yeah.”

“Oh.”

The conversation stalls as we make it to the bar, and I find it as empty as the front tables. Spinning on my heel, I confirm that we’re the only people in the place unless there’s someone hiding in the back.

There are also no decorations. Not even a single set of lights or a wreath.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, noticing the slush-filled, curvy pink cup on the bar.

Niko grabs the drink and offers it to me with something that looks a lot like hope shining in his dark eyes. My neck grows damp as I bite down on my lip and hesitate to take it from him.

“I can’t drink that.”

He blinks, and the hope is gone, replaced with cool indifference. Clearing his throat, he moves to set it back down when I reach for his wrist.

“It’s not that I don’t want it. I do. And it’s incredibly sweet that you made it for me to try. If you want, I can have a co-worker come by before the event to taste it,” I ramble, sounding as nervous as I feel.

He leaves it on the bar and crosses his arms. “I don’t need anyone to taste it but you. Made it special for you, Ivy.”

“Oh. Well, that’s even sweeter, then.”

“I shouldn’t have expected you to want it. It’s fuckin’ cold out. I’m sorry.”

“I do want it. I just can’thaveit. Can we please sit and talk? I’ll explain.”

Worry tightens his features as he nods toward the closest table. It’s a booth, so I slide into the one side, expecting him to join me on the other. Instead, he moves around the bar and fills a glass with water. I breathe out a silent chuckle and wait for him to finish.

There isn’t any Christmas music playing in the bar today, and now that I think about it, there wasn’t the first time I was here, either. It’s old rock instead.

“Why isn’t there any Christmas music playing?” I ask once he’s squished his large frame into the booth beside me and passed me the glass.

We’re so close together, his thigh and bicep pressing into me. I subtly lean into his body, seeking the warmth he’s exuding.

“I haven’t changed the station in months.”

“It’s the holidays. Christmas music is kind of expected right now.”

“Not here.”

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