Page 40 of Holly and Nick Hate Christmas
“Besides, you know Chloe.” Holly gestured with another ornament. “She cycles through boyfriends faster than TikTok trends. I doubt he sticks.”
“True.” Ryan’s shoulders lowered a little. “I guess I can wait him out.”
Nick’s own shoulders relaxed as he finished with his string of lights. Being here in the kitchen with the Sinclair siblings talking about family was making him feel part of it. His gaze rested briefly on Holly, who was still perched on top of the counter with her box of hooks. Why couldn’t she be like this with him—chill, funny, down-to-earth? Why did she see him and immediately spring into holiday spirit?
Though maybe that was for the best. Because if it wasn’t for this sudden quirk of hers, he might have actually caved and kissed her.
Everything happened for a reason, right? There had to besomegrander plan in place for him to be in Point Bluff, Ohio, for Christmas. And if that was true, that divine plan was happening solely to give him a place to help teens in trouble. To make up for his past.
Not to find him someone to kiss under mistletoe.
“I think what we really need to talk about is the fact Olivia thinks Mom is sick.” Kat shrugged out of Lydia’s grasp. “Ryan, have you and wifey here heard the latest?”
Ryan and Lydia nodded simultaneously. Ryan brushed at the faux needles clinging to his sweater. “Yeah, Lydia told me her theory.”
Nick rubbed at one of the prickly scratches on his wrist. The distracting closet encounter had made him forget that Olivia was trying to convince the others that Grace was sick. Of course, that wasn’t true.Heknew Grace’s secret.
Was he a horrible person to let them continue thinking a lie? His stomach clenched.
“So Olivia already got to you.” Holly grinned at her sister-in-law. “What do you two think?”
Lydia squinted. “I’m not sure. Mom does seem a little different this year, but I can’t pinpoint why.”
Holly’s eyes flickered at the maternal endearment, and sympathy welled in Nick’s chest. If Holly would just have a real conversation with him, like she did her siblings, maybe he could get to the bottom of that wall between her and Lydia. But Holly didn’t seem open to being serious, and he sure wasn’t going totry to force her and risk getting himself gift wrapped or light-strung.
As if she felt him watching her, Holly’s gaze darted to Nick. And like a switch flipped in some far-off Christmas warehouse of doom, her voice singsonged into something sticky sweet. “Ni-ick,you missed a spot.”
His throat tightened. There she went again. He took a deep breath and stepped back to examine the lights, determined not to argue and egg her on. “Where?”
“No, it looks great.” Lydia waved one hand through the air. “Don’t listen to her.”
Holly hopped off the counter. “What are you talking about? There’s obviously a gap between the strands.” She came to stand closer to the tree and pointed.
Nick backed up.
“It gives it character.” Lydia gently adjusted one of the strings tucked into the branches. “I like it.”
“Mom is never going to let us get away with a Charlie Brown tree.” Holly crossed her arms over her chest. “She likes things a certain way.”
“She does?” Lydia leaned in and touched Holly’s shoulder. “Or you do?”
Holly’s eyes widened, then narrowed. She opened her mouth, but Grace strolled into the kitchen, carrying two tree toppers. “Here they are! The finishing touches.”
Holly’s jaw snapped shut.
Grace handed the angel to Ryan with an indulgent smile. “I’ve finally found all the toppers. I can’t believe I forgot where I packed them last year.”
Kat and Ryan exchanged quick glances. Oh no. Were they thinking this somehow proved Grace’s illness?
“Oh, that one’ssopretty.” Lydia hurried to Grace’s side toadmire the star-shaped topper she still held. “You’ve always had such lovely taste.”
Holly’s lips pursed together as she bent to rummage through the box of remaining ornaments, her back stiff. Nick hesitated, unsure which issue to address first, if either. He couldn’t fix the kids’ assumption without sharing a secret that wasn’t his to blab. But maybe he could help Holly.
He joined her as Ryan, Lydia, and Kat gathered around Grace and the topper. He squatted down next to the plastic tub. Holly had sat fully on the floor and rapidly stacked homemade ornaments into piles, counting under her breath.
He waited a moment to not interrupt. But she wasn’t stopping. “Do you want to talk about—”
“Five for Kat. Six for Chloe.” She set a papier-mâché reindeer that looked like it’d seen better days on top of a second pile. “Nine for Ryan.” She let out her breath. “Nine.”
