Page 64 of The Snuggle is Real
“You can use this for our door prize raffle—or you can buy a ticket to play the games. Each time you win a game, you get an extra entry for the grand prize.”
“What do you think?” Ford said, cutting his gaze toward me. “Last chance to take a run at Heath.”
I swatted his arm. “Shut up and get us a regular raffle ticket.”
Ford chuckled and filled out the ticket.
A cozy two-top table had opened up in a corner. I grabbed his wrist and tugged. “Come on! Hurry!”
I raced across the room, winding between groups of people and slammed my butt in the chair before two tourists could claim it. They veered away, the older guy loudly complaining. “Apparently you have to be an Olympic sprinter to get a seat around here.”
Ford pulled out the chair across from me. “I didn’t realize I was on a date with an Olympic athlete.”
“Very funny. You’ve seen me, right? I’m a total shrimp.”
“But fast,” he said with a wink.
My brain caught up to what he’d said. “A date?”
He shrugged. “If you can’t beat the gossip, join it, right?”
I frowned. “Not really proper for us to be on a date. Given that you came to the Holiday Hope Foundation for assistance, not a boyfriend.”
His lips quirked. “Well, thankfully we’re changing that arrangement. I’m not your charity case anymore.”
“Because you’re going to work on my house…”
“Yeah. I already made some calls about renting a sander to refinish your floors.” He paused. “Unless you’re having second thoughts about hiring me?”
“No.” I leaned in, so it was easier to talk above the background music. “It’ll be a huge relief, honestly. I wanted todo it all myself, but I thought I’d have more time, you know? With my family coming for Christmas and work so busy…”
“Between your place and a couple more festival odd jobs that Griff called about, I’m in a better place, Mason. I don’t know if I can give Charlie everything she deserves. The kid’s been through a lot with her mom, you know? But I can give her what she needs.”
“Sometimes that’s more important.”
He nodded. “So your family is visiting? Tell me more about them and what you’d like to get done at your house.”
The next hour flew by as I told him about my little brother, Sawyer, who had made me so damn proud by deciding to invest in co-owning a business. About my mother, who was a talented chef at a resort in the Ozarks. About Sawyer’s boyfriend, who ran a food boat and helped in the resort kitchen. About my childhood living by a lake, my house, and everything I wanted done before they arrived…
I talked so much. Too much.
Ford was a great listener, seeming genuinely interested in my life story.
I paused, my mouth dry. “I’ve been rambling. What about you? Tell me about your family.”
Just like that, he clammed up.
“Not much to tell. You know the basics.”
I cringed, remembering his sister had died. His mom moved away because memories here were tough. His wife left him.
“Sorry, yeah.” I hesitated. “Why do you still live here?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, your mom left because she had too many memories here. But you must too, right? It can’t be easy.”
“Yeah.” He picked up his drink and finished it off. “I could say it’s because I had a job here. A house. Friends like Dottie.” He shrugged. “But the truth is…it’s just home. And I guess,unlike Mom, I wanted to stay close to the memories. Nicole feels more alive here than anywhere else, you know?”
