Page 3 of A Not So Merry Ex-Mas

I feel my body heat, and my heart moves to my throat. My eyes move down the length of his body of their own accord. My lips lift into a half smile before turning into a scowl. When my eyes meet his again, I see a flicker of emotion before an amused expression fills them.

What on earth is Cole Nichols doing here? More importantly—why didn’t Mel tell me he was coming?

Chapter Two

Cole

My heart stops beforestuttering back to life at my first sight of Noelle. For just a millisecond, there’s a spark of light that crosses her eyes. The way they take me in has my heart leaping at the hope that she’s happy to see me. The scowl that follows almost immediately puts that hope in check pretty quick.

It was difficult to contain my amusement at seeing her look under the rock by the side of the house, especially since I knew exactly what she was doing. I also knew that letting her see that amusement wasn’t the smartest idea, but I couldn’t control it.

I’m like a child on Christmas Eve who’s been waiting a lifetime for this day. And it’s finally arrived. Idon’t care if that excitement is rolling off me in waves. I don’t care who knows it. Especially her.

It’s been six excruciating years since I made a mess of everything when I last saw her at Mel and Mike’s wedding. It’s my fault she married her ex, and I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to make things right.

She may not be happy to see me…yet. But I intend to do everything to change that while we’re here.

“Are you looking for the hidey key?” I ask, watching her scowl deepen.

She crosses her arms as if shielding herself from me, and I feel my heart clenching at the action.

“You know that’s exactly what I’m doing,” she snaps, blowing out a big breath to move a long strand of hair from her face.

I feel my lips dip slightly at the hardness in her eyes and voice. My gaze shifts toward Belle, and I feel a smile spread as memories of us in that car flood me.

“I see Belle is still doing well.” I bob my head in the direction of her Volkswagen. “And she’s carrying the perfect Balsam Fir.”

Her eyes fill with a myriad of emotions and soften for the quickest moment before hardening again. I get lost looking in her hazel eyes and can’t help but remember the last Christmas we spent together—theone where I asked her grandmother for permission to marry her.

Has she thought about us as much as I have over the last decade?

The weight straining my arms reminds me that I haven’t set the logs down yet. I’ve been chopping wood since I got here to make sure we have enough for the duration of our stay, but more importantly, enough to keep us warm if the power should go out during the expected snowstorm.

Mike and I put in a generator a few years ago, so if the power does go out, barring an unexpected deep freeze, we should be fine. But sometimes, the generator gets a little finicky, so a bit of extra wood is a wise thing to have.

“Mel didn’t tell me you were going to be here.”

“Would you have come if she did?” I respond with a raised brow.

Noelle huffs and sharply turns back to her car, opens the back door and pulls out her bags. I’m still standing watching like a lovesick puppy while holding a stack of logs. She turns back to me, luggage in hand, and I take her in as she moves toward me, avoiding direct eye contact.

Her cheeks are pink from the cold air, and her long blonde hair sticks out from under her winter beanie in long, loose curls.

My stomach tightens, and my heart races. This version of Noelle is even more spectacular than the one I remembered, which says a lot.

She walks past me just as the wind picks up, though I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if that bitter cold was because of her if the tightness of her lips indicates how she’s feeling about my presence here.

I stack the logs on the pile I’ve been building here on the porch. I was able to make a considerable dent before Noelle arrived.

I hear the front door close and look over to see Noelle walking down the steps, heading back toward Belle. I can’t keep my eyes off of her, but when she goes to grab the tree, I stop her.

“I’ll get that!” I rush over and put my hand on the rope. It grazes hers, and I feel electricity zing through my body. She pulls her hand away as if she’s been burned and rubs it with her other hand. “I’ll put it on the porch for now, and then we can decide what to do with it later.”

I catch her nod from the corner of my eye as I walk around the car to cut the ropes holding the tree inplace. Knowing how much Noelle loves this car, I carefully lift it from the roof.

A wry smile crosses my face as I remember when she first drove up in it.

“You got a Volkswagen bug?” Incredulousness drips from my voice.

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