Page 60 of No Room in the Inn

Nixon nods firmly, but I can’t help but notice that he doesn’t return Max’s sentiment. “What are you doing in Woodfield?” Nixon asks. “Haven’t seen you around before.”

His voice isn’t quite rude, but it’s not friendly, either. I shoot him awhat’s-your-problemlook, but he ignores me. What is he doing? Is this an interrogation?

Max’s eyes flick to me and then back to Nixon before he answers. “I moved in a few months ago. I’m the town’s new veterinarian. What about you?” His voice holds a hint of challenge, and I sigh.

Because goodgrief.I’m tempted to tell them just to whip it out and measure, but I refrain, partly because it might not be the classiest thing to say and partly because my mind has snagged on the fact that he’s the town vet and therefore probably knows that my beloved cat is nearing her final days. The thought makes my throat tighten, and I swallow.

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen—”

But Gerty’s voice makes me pause as she addresses the room loudly. “Okay, everyone! Up here, darlings! It’s time for our first game”—she points to a sprig of mistletoe hanging above her head, and my stomach drops somewhere to the vicinity of my feet—“seven minutes under the mistletoe!”

Chapter 27

Willow

Seven minutes under the mistletoe? That’s not a thing. But the room is suddenly quiet, all of us straining to hear what Gerty says next.

“First up we have…” Gerty looks around dramatically, and I know—I justknow—what’s about to happen. Sure enough, when her eyes catch mine, she points at me. “Willow and Max!”

Oh, dear. This is bad.

I look over at Max, who’s glancing around the room too, looking a little embarrassed. He runs a hand through his perfect hair, which doesn’t ruffle it at all. Is it hairsprayed in place? Does he just have especially shapely hair? When he finds me in the crowd, he shoots me an embarrassed grin, his white teeth flashing at me.

That is a very handsome man…who I have no desire to kiss.

I’m just about to fake some sort of emergency—haven’t figured out what yet, but I’ll get there—when from behind me, someone grabs my elbow again. I turn around to see Nixon and Sarah. Sarah is eyeing Max with interest, but Nixon’s gaze is solely on me.

“You’re not going to kiss him, are you?” he says.

Well, I wasn’t, but now that I know he objects, I sort of want to do it—just to rile him up a bit. Mature, I know.

“What’s wrong with me kissing him?” I say.

Nixon’s jaw works furiously, clenching and unclenching, as he looks at me. His green eyes are once again doing that thing where they see straight into my soul, but I don’t break eye contact, because I’m a winner, dang it.

“I just don’t think he’s a good choice for you,” he says finally, his gaze darting away from mine now.

My eyes narrow as I step closer to him. People are starting to look at us, so I keep my voice low as I say, “Let me remind you that you don’t get a say in who I kiss.”

“He’s too old for you,” Nixon says stubbornly.

“What did Ijustsay?” I ask, rolling my eyes in exasperation.

Nixon’s jaw clenches. “Maximillion—”

“Maximus,” I correct him.

He rolls his eyes. “Maximus,” he says. “And what kind of name is that? That’s a name for a dog.” He shakes his head. “Regardless,Maximusis too old for you.”

“You already said that,” I say through gritted teeth. I jab him in the chest with my pointer finger. “And you had your chance to weigh in on this matter earlier, but you pushed me away.”

Nixon’s eyes darken as they drop to my lips, and I feel an unsettling swooping sensation low in my stomach.

“Willow?” Gerty says, sounding uncertain. “Max? Or—” She glances past me. “Is Nixon going to be stepping in for Max?”

I snort. “He most certainly is not—”

But before I can stop him, Nixon has grabbed my hand and is dragging me forward toward where Gerty stands under the mistletoe. But I yank my hand out of his grasp, and he whirls on me.

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