Page 82 of Holly and Nick Hate Christmas
“All right, guys, that might be enough Merry Christmas for one night.”
I opened my eyes. Ryan.
Oh.Ryan.
Nick jumped back. “Hey! Hey, man.” He shoved his hand through his hair, which was sticking up in the back thanks to my fake nails. “We were just—”
“I saw.” My brother’s eyes were cool, his expression neutral. What, no freak-out? Or wasthisthe freak-out? Why couldn’t I tell?
Why wasIfreaking out? Wasn’t Ryan’s seeing us the goal?
My stomach slipped toward my boots. Wait. Had Nick already realized he was nearby? Was that why he’d kissed me? Surely not…
But maybe?
“Mistletoe is mistletoe, right?” Ryan laughed, awkwardly. Nick echoed it. Now it was twice as awkward.
I found my voice, if not my confidence. “Nick and I—”
“Come on, babe.” Lydia, whom I hadn’t even realized had been standing behind Ryan, stepped around him and patted his back. “Your mom is waiting for that wood. You can talk about this later.”
I also hadn’t noticed Ryan was holding firewood. I touched the back of my hand to my mouth, my cheeks flaming. Talk about it? Like we were her school kids in trouble? I shoved aside my pride, wishing I could find the answer I desperately needed written on Nick’s face. But he looked as stoic as Ryan.
I stepped forward. “We can help.”
“You’ve done plenty.” Ryan shot me the side-eye, and the joy I expected to feel at his distaste fell flat. Not when I wasn’t sure what Nick had intended.
Piper had been right. This was a disaster. “Ryan—”
“You guys. Quick.” Olivia jogged up to us, chest heaving. She planted her hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Find Dad. Mom just fainted.”
What a night.
Nick slipped out of the house into the brisk air, away from the chaos surrounding Grace. She’d promised she hadn’t fainted, had only felt lightheaded from not eating enough and missed the chair when she went to sit down. A neighbor had misinterpreted the fall as fainting and sounded the proverbial alarm. Olivia had taken the panic from there, and before they knew it, the party was over, neighbors were heading home…and he and Holly hadn’t had a single moment to discuss what happened between them.
Were there even words? Half an hour later, his lips still burned, and not from the cold air chafing his skin. It’d felt so natural to hold her. Inhale her vanilla scent.
But had she meant it, or was she just performing for Operation: Jack & Sally?
The door shut behind Nick with a quiet snap, further drowning out the passionate debate going on indoors, peppered by Janie and Mason’s reminders that they hadn’t seen Santa yet.Everyone was sugared up and at a ten. And despite how many times Grace protested, Olivia and her siblings wouldn’t ease up about her health. At one point, Olivia had even dug her mother’s pocket calendar out of her purse and started looking for available days to make a doctor’s appointment.
Enough was enough. Time to talk to Thomas, make sure he understood where all the paranoia was coming from. And if word had somehow gotten around about Nick and Holly’s mistletoe moment, well…Nick might have some explaining to do.
Which was going to be difficult since he had zero answers to the questions flying around his own head.
“Had enough?” Eyes closed, head back, Thomas sat on one of the front porch chairs, wearing a buttoned jacket and loosely holding a thermos of coffee.
“They’re louder than the party was.” Nick pointed behind him.
Thomas opened one eye. “Not as loud as that sweater.”
Nick shrugged into his jacket sleeves. “It’s something, isn’t it?” And they hadn’t even won. Granted, he and Holly had been kissing under the mistletoe while the official judging was going on for the few guests who’d actually participated, but one teenager’s sweater featuring a snowman comprised of glued-on candies had been a fan favorite.
Not that Thomas needed those details. Nick started across the deck, the wooden boards creaking under his weight.
“The porch is sound, I promise.” Thomas braced one booted foot on the railing in front of him, leaning his chair farther back. The empty hanging baskets swayed in the wind. “These old houses just have character.”
“I believe it.” Nick took the rocker next to Thomas, wishing he’d snagged a cup of coffee for himself. “Though honestly, I’d still love this property even if I did have to fix the porch.”
