Page 15 of Holly and Nick Hate Christmas
“Easy there, Holly Berry.” Ryan jogged toward me, his glasses slipping down on his nose. From his controlled expression, he clearly held back a laugh eager to break free. He was waiting to see if I was hurt before he released it, whichalmostmade me forgive him for the nickname.
He offered me a hand, which I shook off, standing on my own. “I’m fine.” I really wanted to ask him if my butt was dirty, but I resisted.Note to self, don’t walk in front of Nick.
Nick. My gaze darted over Ryan’s shoulder as the man of the hour hauled himself from the cab of his truck. His dark boots crunched on the rocks, and he craned his neck toward me. Checking to see if I was okay?
Maybe I should trip again.
I quickly brushed off the back of my jeans, just in case, and found my smile. The one that had earned me several second dates, if not a third lately.
“Nick, you remember Holly.” Ryan gestured toward me like I was a game-show prize as Nick approached. I slapped Ryan’s arm down, and he rubbed it with a wince. “Holly, you remember Nick.”
“Of course.” Wow, Nick was more handsome up close. Brown hair with natural caramel highlights, carelessly tousled in a way that might have been styled intentionally or might be proof that God loved him a little more than me. Eyes rich and deep like coffee warmed as they met mine.
“Hey there.” Nick’s voice was a notch deeper than Ryan’s, alittle more reserved, like maybe he saved it for words that really mattered. A dark shadow of a goatee was interrupted by a white, even smile.
Our hands touched. My fingers instantly wanted to curl into his, to lace together like we were a happy couple instead of near strangers in an incredibly awkward moment.
I worked to keep my heart beating a steadfast rhythm and my palm flat as we shook. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You too.” Nick let go and shoved his hands casually into the front pockets of his sherpa jacket. “Are you okay?”
Oh, crap. He could tell I was having heart palpitations? Then, thankfully, my frontal lobe resumed working. He meant my fall. “Oh, yeah. Happens all the time.”
Nick’s dark eyebrows rose.
Great, now I’d confessed to being clumsy. I quickly shook my head as I gestured behind me. “I meant, there. On those stairs. Be sure to take care.” And now I was a Dr. Seuss book. I clamped my lips shut.
“Did you hit your head?” Ryan frowned as he prodded my scalp.
I stepped out of his reach and smiled brightly at a spot somewhere between them. If Mom could deny her inability to grow plants, I could deny my reality. “Need help carrying anything?”
“I’ve got it!” Lydia singsonged from the driveway. A bag hung from one shoulder and a purse dangled from the other. The laundry basket full of gifts was braced against her hip.
“Babe! Let me help.” Ryan rushed toward her, his sister no longer his priority.
I risked a glance at Nick, who was studying me with a look I couldn’t quite decipher. But it sure did warm my stomach like a white mocha with zero peppermint shavings. “Trust me, I’m not usually this graceful,” I joked.
He tilted his head and smiled. “So I hear.”
“Ryan’s been telling stories on me, I take it.” I mentally filed that fact away to avenge later.
“Only good ones.”
“I’ll have to be the judge of that.” We locked eyes, and there was that sensation again. Was Nick feeling it too? How could he not? If we’d been standing on snow, it would have melted.
“Regardless, thanks for that, uh,dramaticwelcome.” Nick shot me a wink and…yep, the floor was lava.
I wrapped my arms around my middle, mostly to hide my shaky hands. “So, are you ready for this block party?”
Nick let out a low whistle. “From the way Ryan described it, I’m not sure anyone ever could be.”
“That’s about right.” I laughed. “It’s a whole event. I swear people come who don’t even live in this neighborhood.”
“No worries. We’ll face it together.” A dimple creased his cheek.
I swallowed. I’d always secretly judged Austen-era women who swooned. What even was that? Yet my response to Nick’s dimple would have had the over-eager Lydia Bennet telling me to calm down. “Sounds good.”
Piper would have been proud at the way I kept my voice steadier than my hands.
