Page 31 of Holly and Nick Hate Christmas
Great. Operation: Naughty List’s only success so far had been making the man’s bladder uncomfortable. This wasn’t my best work.
I stared at Nick, at the way his dark T-shirt stretched across his shoulders and the way he somehow made standing in front of a glittered door of cotton balls look masculine and appealing, and considered giving up. Maybe I was out of my league. Maybe I should just admit I overheard him and Ryan, tell him off, andgo about getting the holidays over with. At least that way I wouldn’t have to go through with all this Christmas foolery.
My stomach twisted. But if I did that, word would get around. My sisters would whisper behind their hands. Mom and Dad would shoot me Eeyore looks for the next week and chastise Ryan like we were kids again. I would be alone for the block party, fending off Mr. Steiner’s attempt at yet another blind date with his great-grandson who recently got out of jail, and warding off Mrs. Pepper’s sympathetic, red-lipsticked forehead kiss when I admitted I was still single.
So I was going to wake up thirty, single, and unemployed in my parents’ house on Christmas. I couldn’t do anything about that.
But I didn’t have to wake up thirty, single, unemployed, andpitied.
Operation: Naughty List was going to have to get an upgrade.
“You know, I can’t wait for the block party.” Infusing confidence in my voice by pretending I looked like a runway model instead of a homeless forest creature, I dared to sidle a step closer. “We should start planning our outfits now.”
Nick’s confident expression flickered. “That’s a thing?”
“Oh, it’s abigthing.” It wasn’t. But it was about to be. “Ugly sweater contest, and if you make it yourself, you get bonus points.”
He flinched, but managed to mostly cover it with a cough. “Sounds great.”
Now we were getting somewhere. I nodded firmly. “And if you match with your date, you get even more votes.”
“Matching…ugly Christmas sweaters…” Nick visibly swallowed. “Now that’s festive.”
“Isn’t it?” I wiggled my fingers goodbye as I turned to head back to my room. “See you in a jiff.”
I didn’t even turn as the door to Nick’s room clicked shut again, nor did I try to hide my triumphant grin.
Holly, 1.
Nick’s bladder, 0.
Nick shuffled through the still-dark living room, careful not to bang his foot against the couch as he navigated past the coffee table. He’d finally managed to clean off his door and take his turn in the guest bathroom to get ready for the day—a day that apparently was going to hold more Christmas activities than a child’s fun pack, if Holly had anything to do with it.
He needed coffee.
And if he really had to make and wear his own Christmas sweater to match Holly, well, he might need Irish coffee.
“This is harder than I thought it’d be.” Grace’s quiet voice sounded from around the corner in the kitchen. “Much harder. I don’t even feel like decorating.”
Oops. Nick hovered near the recliner. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he also didn’t want to intrude on what sounded like a potentially vulnerable topic. Maybe he should go back and find the light switch on the wall, make his arrival known so they could change gears.
Out of sight, Thomas responded to Grace, his voice low to match hers. “You know we don’t have to commit to anything just yet. It’s a big decision.”
Definitely a private conversation. But Nick also definitely needed caffeine.
A shadow moved in the early dawn light filtering through the blinds and he squinted. Olivia and Kat were hunched against the side wall in what looked to be robes and pajama pants, stooped in a half-crouch nearly on top of each other asthey listened. Apparently, they hadn’t wanted to interrupt either.
And resorted to eavesdropping.
With a grin, he resumed crossing the living room. “Good morning.”
Two dark heads whipped toward him while two fingers simultaneously covered two sets of lips. “Shh.”
“Get down,” Olivia hissed, waving frantically with one hand.
Nick obediently joined the line and crouched behind Kat and her buffalo plaid pants. Her dark ponytail was back, and it swung in his face as he tried to blend into the wall. “What are we doing?” he whispered.
“Solving a mystery.” Kat tossed the clipped words over her shoulder. Then she sighed. “Or proving Olivia is paranoid.”
