Page 34 of Secret Santas and Holiday Dances

Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know. But there are lots of ways to show you care. I mean, isn’t that what Grace has been doing all month? Showing people in need that someone out there cares?”

“Someone cares . . .” Liam sat bolt upright in his chair. “That’s it.”

“What? What’s it?”

He jumped to his feet. “Secret Santa.” Liam rushed to the wood coat rack by the door and grabbed his tweed jacket.

“You’ve lost me,” Ryan said.

“I’m going to be her Secret Santa.” Liam threw open the door and headed down the stairs.

Ryan called after him. “Uh, Liam, I was offering an example, not a suggestion. That’s not how Secret Santa works. You see, the Santa is supposed to be secret, but she’s for sure going to know it’s you.”

Liam hit the walkway between buildings. “It’s okay, I want her to know it’s me.”

“That’s just Santa then,” Ryan yelled after him. “Or I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus or something!”

Liam darted down to Harold’s Market, bursting in the swinging doors painted with a Jolly Ol’ Saint Nick in his sleigh being pulled by his reindeer. Nick’s eye twinkled and Liam took that as a good omen—maybe he couldn’t fix what had been done, but he could make sure that Grace knew there were people who cared. And he topped that list.

* * *

Liam arrived at Winslow Books at five minutes to nine a.m. Wednesday morning, and waited in the frigid morning air. Jessie spotted him through the glass and took her sweet time opening the doors. He waved. She ignored him. At nine, he pointed at his watch. She shelved some books. At five after, he called through the door. “Come on, Jessie. Let me in. You know I’m innocent.”

She rolled her eyes, but let him in. “Innocent? Right.”

He shivered in the warm room and stomped his feet on the mat. “If I’d realized she was coming in for a kiss, I would’ve stopped her.”

Jessie reluctantly nodded. “I know.” She turned and headed down one of the aisles, and he followed her. “But that’s not what I was talking about. I thought I told you to stay away from Grace.”

“I haven’t tried to talk to her once.” He lifted his hands as if in surrender.

“But you left mints at her door for her to find yesterday morning, and today, there’s this.” She stopped at the counter, going behind it by the register, and grabbed the paper, whipping it open for him to see.

He didn’t have to read it because he already knew what it said.

“You had them print a retraction of Charlotte’s statement.” Jessie placed her hands on the edge of the counter. “That was kind of you. It’ll mean a lot to Grace. Not so much to Charlotte. That bridge is officially burned—so if you were planning on being husband number five—”

“Come off it.” Liam groaned.

Jessie grinned. “There’s nothing that bothers that woman more than people calling her out on her lies. I just hope I get to see her face when she reads this.”

“How’s Grace?” Liam’s stomach twisted in knots as Jessie considered him.

“She’s been better,” she said. “I know you’re trying to make things right, Liam, but she’s not ready to see you. So, if that’s what you came here for, I can’t help you.”

“I promised I’d stay away, and I will,” he said. “But because of that, I need you to do something for me.”

Jessie folded her arms in front of her chest. “What?”

“On Grace’s fridge, there’s a Christmas postcard,” he said. “I need you to take a picture of the name and address if there is one, of the sender, and text it to me.”

“Why?”

“Please, Jessie, trust me.”

“Why should I?”

He didn’t even have to think about it. “Because I love Grace and I want what’s best for her. And to get that, I need an ally.”

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