Page 90 of Holly and Nick Hate Christmas
Nick smiled, then flinched as the motion tugged at the fresh bruise. “Honestly, if I were a mall cop, I wouldn’t want to deal with their level of hysterics.”
“Fair.” Ryan snorted. “My ear still hurts from Lydia shrieking in it. Gonna take me a while to live this one down.”
Nick leaned back against the cell wall, then thought better of it and moved to rest on the edge of the bench instead. “I’m going to have to come clean with Holly.”
“Please do.” Ryan sighed. “After how I’ve been acting toward Axel, I have no idea if Lydia would believe this was all a prank without you backing me up.”
“I will. As soon as we’re alone.” Nick grimaced. “She’s not gonna be happy about it.”
“Neither will Lydia.”
They sat in commiserating silence for a moment, the only sound the muted buzz of an intercom as an announcement was made over the mall speakers. Faint strains of Christmas music drifted from the front desk area they’d passed on the way in.
How had it all come to this? Nick leaned forward and braced his head in his hands. Wasn’t the main reason he’d agreed to come to the farm to prove to the Sinclairs he was worthy of their consideration? That his dreamandhis character were noble enough to invest in?
Now he sat in a public holding cell. Because of a misunderstanding, sure, but to say this had gone too far was an understatement. He’d done nothing but pretend and lie since he’d gotten there. To both ThomasandGrace.
To Ryan.
To Holly.
To her entire family, really.
It was time to face the truth and be honest—starting with Holly. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too upset with him once he explained that he couldn’t do any more operations. Because the only thing worse than losing the Sinclairs’ trust would be losing Holly’s friendship.
Nick ran his hands down his face, taking care with his sore jaw. But he didn’t just want friendship, did he? He told Ryan yesterday he’d wanted an excuse to keep getting to know Holly, but he didn’t want that anymore. What he wanted now was a real, approved, valid reason to put his arm around her. To share inside jokes and roasted pecans. To laugh and trade Christmas traumas and absolutely butcher famous pop hits on a karaoke machine.
He wanted to date her.
“Mr. Sinclair?”
Nick jerked his head up. The policeman on the Segway, who’d been the first to zip over to them after the punch, stopped in front of their door and looked between the two of them.
Ryan raised his hand. “That’s me.”
“Well.” The officer crossed his arms over his uniformed girth,a file folder dangling from his fingers. His thick mustache, speckled with gray, twitched as if he were trying not to laugh. “Looks like your family has a long-standing record here.”
Nick stood to join Ryan, trying to keep his own smirk off his face. They kept recordsthatold? Ofchildrenfighting? Small towns were something else.
“I’d like to point out that incident had nothing to do with me.” Ryan held up both hands. “And like we said earlier, this wasn’t real. We’re co-workers and friends. It’s all a joke gone wrong.”
The cop frowned. “No one else knew it was fake. You still disturbed the peace.”
Ryan held eye contact. “With all due respect, sir, I think the ladies disturbed it a little more.”
The mustache twitched again. “Lucky for you, they validated your story. Said there was no way you were actually fighting and had to have been joking around and missed.”
“Thank goodness.” Ryan tilted his head back and released a sigh. “So we can leave? Is there a fine to pay, or anything?”
“Nope. Call it an early Christmas gift.” The guard pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. “Or call it even—because you’re still going to have to deal with the two of them on your way home.” The smile escaped his mustache this time as he swung the cell door wide.
Ryan hesitated to step through. “Could I pay a fine to stay longer?”
“Comeon.” Nick practically shoved him through the door. “Thank you, sir. This won’t happen again.”
“Merry Christmas.” The officer dipped his head as they filed past him down the hall toward the security desk. “Your phones are in a tray with Marcie.”
Ten minutes later, they were standing with Lydia and Hollyin the parking lot near the decorated Santa’s Workshop entrance, under an arch dripping with evergreen branches and red ribbon.
