Page 21 of Never Sleigh Never

Phillip’s eyebrows shoot up, and he lets out a low whistle. “You’re in deeper than I thought.”

My jaw clenches. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Hey,” he snaps, glancing around. “Watch your language. There are kids here.”

“You’re right,” I reply, immediately regretting my outburst. “I’m sorry, I’m just—”

“Wound a little tight.”

“I…” I start, thinking back to the soft vulnerability in Cara’s eyes that night at her house when she looked at me as if I were someone she had actual feelings for. But then her words on the street, overheard just days ago, come roaring back, and I shake my head, pushing aside the memory.

“Doesn’t matter now,” I mutter, tossing some fake snowballs back into a basket on the table. “Cara made it clear where she stands.”

Phillip chuckles, the sound unexpected. “You know, when Gabby first came to town, I couldn’t wait to send her packing. I thought she was nothing more than a rich princess from the city, and she thought I was a stubborn, grumpy local standing in her way. And you know what? We both had it all wrong.”

I frown, not following. “And your point is?”

“Things aren’t always what they seem. Feelings can be messy, especially when people are total opposites. Or when there’s an ex…or a suitor involved. Hell, you remember how Gabby was only down here because she was trying to impress that billionaire her father wanted to set her up with, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And look how that turned out.”

The implication hangs in the air between us, but I scoff and lift my cap to run a hand through my hair. “You weren’t a rebound she slept with when she’d sworn off men.”

“No, but…” he says, with a shrug. “Do you think Cara’s really the type to sleep with a man when she doesn’t have feelings for him?”

I don’t bother to answer. We both know what I’d say as much as I hate to admit it.

“You need to be honest with yourself, man,” Phillip presses. “And with her.”

I nearly crush the prop mug in my hand. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He levels his gaze at me. “If you really care about Cara, you won’t let some jackass ex, or some vow she obviously broke for a good reason, get in the way. You’ll tell her how you feel, regardless of the outcome.”

Phillip’s advice hits me like a sledgehammer to the chest, and something about it feels right. As if he might know what the hell he’s talking about for once.

“You think?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Phillip claps me on the shoulder, a knowing smile on his face. “I do. You owe it to yourself—and her—to tell her how you really feel.”

My gaze drops to the table, landing on one of the fill-in-the-blank whiteboards that reads:All I want for Christmas is…

Before I can second-guess myself, I set down the mug and grab a marker from the nearby bucket to complete the wish with the honest truth:All I want for Christmas is for Cara Livingston not to swear off men. But as I finish, I hesitate, then cross out the ‘n’ in men. My heart pounds as I look at the revised message:All I want for Christmas is for Cara Livingston not to swear off me.

Suddenly, Phillip tenses beside me. “Heads up,” he mutters, tugging me behind the backdrop. “Our women are heading this way.”

“She’s not my woman…yet,” I growl as we duck behind the wintery scene, my pulse racing with a fierce determination I haven’t felt all week. Through the fabric, I can hear the women’s voices grow louder.

“Give it a minute,” he whispers, laying a hand on my arm as if he can sense my impatience, now that my mind is made up and Cara’s only inches away.

“Do you think this will work?” Cara asks, her voice soft with uncertainty.

There’s a rustling sound then Gabby’s excited squeal as she claps her hands together. “If it doesn’t, then I don’t know what would.”

Cara

My heart pounds asI grip the whiteboard sign, the marker cool in my trembling fingers. The bustle of the festival fades into the background as I focus on the words I’ve just written:All I want for Christmas is for Thomas Crawford to give me another chance.

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