Page 10 of Meet Me on Christmas Eve

My eyes widened as I took him in.Terry knew Ben and Cynthia?Just how long had Terry lived here? This was alarming. Had he been living here, practically under my nose, for … for as long as I’d been back at the resort, maybe longer than I’d been here? Did heknowI was back? I felt my pulse racing and my breaths coming faster, so I dug in my purse for my credit card and shoved it into Cynthia’s hand, hoping to hurry things along.

“Sorry, that was super unprofessional … Mariana,” she said, after looking at the name on my card and then handing it back to me. “I swear I don’t usually cry to customers. Well, maybe I sometimes do. I’m sorry though. I hope you enjoy your new purchases!”

“I will, and it’s all fine.” It’s not fine, I thought, and this girl probably shouldn’t be working in retail. She might need to look for another job when I bought the place. I’m sure she was sweet, but I couldn’t have someone this volatile on the front lines of my business. We might be able to find other work for her at the resort—as a laundress or something less visible.

I looked at the giant box Terry was still holding. “I’ll come back for that. Let me just bring these other bags to my car, and I’ll—”

“Oh, Terry can probably carry it out for you,” she said.

Oh hell no. “No thanks, I’ll just—”

“I’m on my way out anyway,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than it used to, but it had been a long time so maybe she just didn’t remember well. “It would be my pleasure.”

My eyes flicked up to his at that comment, and I thought I saw a devious flare for a second, but it was gone in a second, replaced by a blank look.

I knew I’d look like a jerk or at least an idiot if I turned down his help, so I sighed, thanked Cynthia, and grabbed my bags before turning to speed-walk toward the door.

My car was parked about 50 yards from the shop, and I nearly ran to it, grateful the fall weather hadn’t produced any slippery ice or snow yet.

After I opened the trunk and put my bags inside, Terry handed me the box, which I put inside, careful to leave space around the bags so nothing would be damaged.

I thought he’d walked away, but I couldn’t be so lucky.

No, he was standing in front of the driver’s side door. Leaning against it, actually.

I walked up to him, stopping a few feet away. “Thanks for bringing out the box. I need to be on my way now.”

He looked at me and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re welcome.”

“So, uh, I need to go.”

“Yeah, you said that already.” He just stared at me.

What the hell? “So, I need you to please move, so I can get into my car,” I explained in a patient voice, like I was talking to a child.

This got him standing up a little straighter, but not moving out of the way. He sighed and ran a hand over his jaw. “Mariana, I was … it was nice to see you. At the party. Then today … both so unexpected. I kinda got the impression you weren’t all that thrilled to see me though, were you?” he asked, scratching his head. That beautiful head, which had only gotten a million times more handsome over the years.

Was he really asking me that? Before I could think, I blurted, “Well, you ghosted me, so—”

He laughed, an edge in his voice. “Oh, did I? That’s not how I remember it.”

I glared at him, and as I spoke, I started to feel out of breath. “Don’t pretend you didn’t. But it doesn’t matter.” Then, for good measure, I shrugged and looked at my watch. “I had totally forgotten about you until that Halloween thing anyway.”

When I looked back at him, his eyes were focused on me still. I couldn’t read him though. “Well, I—I should go,” I said, starting to move a bit closer, waving my hands in a gesture indicating he should move.

He didn’t move though, and I stopped in my tracks, not wanting to get too close to him. I couldn’t make that mistake. Ever.

“What are you doing?” I asked, the voice sounding like someone else.

His mouth twitched for a brief moment. “Talking to you.”

My lips parted and then closed. I wanted to askWhybut … oh, screw it. “Why?”

“Why not?”

My brows scrunched together, I shook my head. “Fine. Lovely weather we’re having. Are you looking forward to Thanksgiving, Terry?” I asked in an obviously fake polite voice.

“Immensely, Mariana,” he said with a smirk. He stared at me with those piercing dark brown eyes, and his expression became serious. “And how’s your life? What are you doing nowadays?”

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