Page 53 of Holly and Nick Hate Christmas
“Yep,” Ryan mumbled, stomping his booted feet against the pavement. “Sweet enough to give me a stomachache.”
Grace accepted the hot chocolate Thomas offered her and took a sip. “Thanks, honey.” She wrapped her arm through his, then swayed a little.
Olivia lunged forward. “Mom! Are you okay?”
“Of course.” Grace laughed and blinked a few times. “Just got a little dizzy. I haven’t eaten enough today, and you know how sugar gets me wired.”
“More for me.” Thomas eagerly took the cup back.
Olivia frowned, clearly not believing her mom. “Should I go get you something?”
“There’s a corn dog booth over yonder.” Axel pointed toward the tents.
Ryan’s brow furrowed as he looked at Nick behind Axel’s back.Over yonder?he mouthed.
Nick shrugged. Axel was the least of his worries.
And a corn dog sounded kind of amazing.
Mason fought off Janie, who was clamoring to grab his slime. “We can’t go now. It’s almost time for the lighting!”
Kat checked her watch. “We’ve got twenty minutes, bud. Plenty of time to meanderover yonder.” Ryan laughed. Lydia shot them a warning look, which they both pretended not to see.
“We’ll get it.” Holly raised her hand briefly before tucking it around Nick’s elbow. “I need to check out one of the booths that direction, anyway.”
“But I don’t need a corn dog,” Grace protested.
“Yes, you do,” her children echoed in unison, except Chloe, who was busy whispering with Axel.
Grace threw her arms up in defeat. “Well, at least bring a mustard packet with it.”
“Coming right up.” Holly tugged at Nick’s arm, jostling his coffee. “Let’s go.”
He fell into step beside her—it was either that or let his shoulder get pulled out of socket—as they rushed through the crowd, away from her family. “Where’s the fire, Cindy?”
“Cindy?” Holly faltered. “Oh. As in,Lou Who.Got it.” She kept going, expertly weaving around the light-strung tents laden with various holiday wares. Children in pom-pom hats with funnel cake powder smeared on their cheeks ran past them in a game of chase. Overhead, Bublé’s voice had transitioned into Taylor Swift’s.
“Just be glad I’m not mean enough to use the nicknames Ryan told me you hated.” Nick sidestepped to avoid a woman pushing a double stroller. A double take confirmed it didn’t hold babies so much as it did her purse, an assortment of gift-wrapped packages, and a dachshund.
“Ugh. He didn’t.” Holly groaned, covering her face with her gloved hand. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Don’t worry, your secrets are safe.” Nick saluted her with his cup. “Even though you probably have it coming after the Frosty stunt you pulled.”
“What stunt?” Holly smiled innocently up at him, her green eyes dancing. “I was just trying to spread Christmas cheer.”
Nick scoffed. “To a guy who doesn’t like celebrating Christmas?”
Her steps slowed as they rounded a taco food truck and her family faded from view. The scent of fajita meat and something cinnamon drifted through the air. She seemed to relax as she looked back up at him. “Frosty can change anyone’s mind.”
“By terrorizing them into submission, I assume.”
She laughed, a carefree, genuine Holly laugh—notthe Cindy Lou, love fern kind. It sounded nice.
In fact, he kind of wanted to hear it again.
Holly lifted her chin. “He’s not scary. He’s a beloved—”
“You mean,mostly tolerated.”
