Page 55 of Holly and Nick Hate Christmas
Nick pawed through a basket of hair clips. Not that his mother would be caught dead in something so cheap, and none of these seemed to be Grace’s style. But at least the effort gave him somewhere to look instead of at the back of Holly’s head as she paid for her gifts.
Enjoying her company…this was new. Reminded him of when they connected on the porch when he’d first arrived. Holly was nice to talk to when she wasn’t upchucking Christmas and fake-smiling. It made him want to talk more…even about things he hadn’t in years.
He moved from the hair clips to a stand of hand-painted Christmas yard signs. Maybe being at the Sinclair farm for Christmas hadn’t been the worst idea after all. He was starting to see the other side of the holidays—the side that wasn’t glittery and commercial, but homemade and genuine. Cookies that weren’t baked evenly but were shared over real laughter. Scratchy fake trees with mismatched ornaments meant to remember, instead of expensive themes meant to impress.
The only downside to the genuine was the spotlight it shone on the counterfeit.
Missing something you never had was a strange feeling.
His gaze drifted back to Holly, who looked through the impulse items at the table as she laughed with the store clerk. Speaking of missing something he’d never had. These glimpsesof the real her kept intriguing him—confirming his original interest in being her plus-one when Ryan had asked. Anyone would be lucky to take the funny, laid-back, pretty woman he’d met last year on a date.
So why had he gotten stuck with this runaway roller-coaster version? They still hadn’t had a chance to discuss why Holly didn’t like the holidays—and maybe even more importantly, why she suddenly seemed to now.
Nick frowned as he watched her interact with the clerk, at the way her hands impatiently shoved her hair out of her face, how she tugged self-consciously at the hem of her sweater. Had she overcome years of holiday trauma that quickly? Did she just wake up one day and make the decision to stop hating Christmas?
Or was she pretending to not hate it for a reason he didn’t know?
Holly turned and caught his eye, offered a quick smile. He smiled back, and their gazes held. Whatever this was, he wanted to know her why. Wanted to know how growing up with a family as great as the Sinclairs, in the snowy, Hallmark-y small town of Point Bluff, could ever lead anyone to anything other than adoring the holidays.
One thing was sure—Holly had her own thing she was fighting, just like he did. But, for better or for worse, shopping together seemed to have put a pause to her Cindy Lou Who–ness for now. Maybe he’d get a reprieve awhile longer and get to hang out with the real—
Her expression flickered and she abruptly straightened, dropping eye contact. “Look!” She reached inside the store bag the worker was packing and pulled out a light-up Christmas bulb necklace. It blinked an erratic pattern of red, green, and gold so bright he winced.
“I got us each one, so we can be festive at the lighting ceremony.” She slipped it over her head and shot him an exaggerated wink before turning back to the clerk.
Maybe not.
He was going to need more coffee.
“Three…two…one…”
The gathered crowd in the center of the festival grounds broke off their group countdown as the tree before us lit with thousands of tiny colored bulbs. A confetti cannon erupted, showering bits of red and green paper over the tree, the street, me. Kids cheered. I mouthed the expectedoohandahhalong with my family, but my heart wasn’t it.
This was such a strange Christmas.
Next to Ryan, Nick’s face was cast in shadow, his shoulders a straight line as he stared up at the tree. I tried to pull my gaze from his stoic profile, ironically lit by the obnoxious necklace I’d bought us, but I couldn’t. In another world, I might have been snuggled up under his arm, the way Chloe was with Axel and Lydia was with Ryan. The way Mom—and her corn dog—was with Dad.
But not this world.
All around us, couples were kissing like it was New Year’s. I averted my eyes from Chloe and Axel’s lip-lock and glanced down at my necklace, the lights pulsing a rhythm oddly in syncwith “Joy to the World,” which was blaring overhead. Pretty sure the necklaces had freaked Nick out—which was only fair, considering how his being so funny and enjoyable while shopping freakedmeout.
How dare he be likable when I was trying to seek revenge?
Nick kept staring up at the tree, hands shoved in his jacket pockets as a muscle worked in his jaw. Avoiding the happy couples too? His vacant gaze seemed like he’d been transported elsewhere, and I really had no business caring this much.
But because I’m a sucker for punishment, I’d secretly bought him a gift while checking out with Olivia and Chloe’s presents, and now it weighed heavily in my purse. Like with most impulse buys, I immediately wondered if it’d been a mistake. But Nick had been so helpful, and his story about his parents rejecting his gifts over the years snuck in a back door to my heart and tugged at a few heartstrings. I’d wanted to do something in return.
Shopping together had felt so natural it’d almost made me forget my mission. When I caught him watching me at the table, saw him smiling so genuinely, it’d been hard to remember that itwasn’tgenuine. He was only pretending to be happy because of pretending to be interested in me.
And if anything would jog a girl into remembering her dignity, that would do it. I wasn’t someone to be pitied.
So. Cindy Lou Who, activated.
The quick switch must have worked, because after I adorned Nick with his matching necklace, he all but shut down. Walked next to me, yes. Chugged the rest of his espresso, sure. Nodded and responded to everything I animatedly chattered on about as we hurried to find Mom’s corn dog and mustard packet and eventually made our way back to my family. But he’d morphed into a robot. A Christmas-hating, coffee-guzzling robot.
“And heaven and nature sing…”
Was I being too hard on him? Maybe I should give him the gift.
