Page 17 of Never Sleigh Never

And?

It’s as if this man knows holding out on me is pure torture.

After a beat, he continues, “He mentioned he’s been busy with the festival, but that he didn’t mind the extra work.”

That’s it? That’s all he’s got?

I lift a shoulder as if the information isn’t something I’ll examine from all angles the second I leave here. “Good to hear, considering he’s been putting in a ton of hours.”

Phillip steps down from the ladder and digs in his tool bag. “Thomas’s got a good heart. He always rises to the occasion.”

Thomas sure “rose to the occasion” last night. My cheeks flush at the memory.

“I got the impression he didn’t mind the long hours because of your company,” Phillip adds, glancing up from the tool bag as if to gauge my reaction.

I nearly drop my mug but cover my surprise with a cough. “That so?” I choke out.

“He didn’t say as much, but I’ve known the guy a long time,” Phillip continues, still eyeing me. “Which is why I was surprised to hear that from him, considering Gabby mentioned that boyfriend of yours broke up with you and you’ve sworn off men for the holidays.”

I choke on a sip of coffee, this time coughing so hard my eyes water. I’m not surprised Gabby filled her husband in on my dating life, but I am surprised he brought it up.

“You alright there?” Phillip asks, inching toward me as if he’s prepared to pound my back if I need it.

“Yeah,” I say, waving off his concern. “Fine. And I have sworn off men,” I confirm. Dating them, at least. Sleeping with them? Apparently, that’s still fair game.

“Plus,” he adds, almost as an afterthought, “the picture in the paper this morning made it seem as if the two of you are getting along just fine.”

Picture? In the paper?

“What picture?”

He sets down the wrench and steps over to the coffee table, flipping open today’s newspaper to reveal a photo of Thomas and me at the city council meeting taken from the back of the room. The article is titled, “City Council Green Lights Funding for Return of Main Street Holiday Festival.”

My breath catches, and I study the image as if I’m a private investigator looking for clues. Thomas is standing protectively close, his hand on my lower back as he glances down at me. And yeah, I can remember exactly what that touch felt like, even now.

The chemistry between us is palpable, despite being in black and white. And the tender gesture captured is so at odds with the passionate, almost primal encounter we shared last night. It’s as if I’ve met two different men—the gruff, practical hardware store owner and the attentive, passionate lover who made me feel things I’ve never felt before him. Both physically and emotionally.

But before I can scan the article to see what it says, my phone chimes with a text. I pull it from my purse, my heart doing a little flip when I see Thomas’s name on the notification screen.

“Mornin,” the message reads, making me smile despite myself. But then another text comes through, and my blood runs cold.

“Expecting a visitor?”

And there, below the message, pops a picture of Wayne’s sleek BMW parked outside my boutique, taken through the blinds behind the register at the hardware store.

“Oh, sugar plum fairy.”

“Everything okay?” Phillip asks, pausing in his attempt to return to the ceiling fan.

I nod distractedly, my mind racing. “I need to go,” I say, already spinning on my heels. “Tell Gabby I stopped by, will you?”

Thomas

The thin aluminum blindsrattle as I tug them down, my jaw clenching at the sight of the sleek BMW parked in front of Coastal Charm. Cara’s ex paces on the sidewalk, his polished loafers clicking against the concrete. The tailored overcoat he has on probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.

I check my phone for the hundredth time. There’s still no response from Cara. The text I sent feels as if it’s burning a holein my pocket. I should be focusing on the stack of invoices on the counter, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the scene across the street.

The scent of fresh-cut pine from the Christmas tree by the front door mingles with the familiar smell of sawdust, but it does nothing to soothe the knot in my gut. I tap my work boot against the worn floorboards, debating whether to go over there myself.

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