Page 80 of Holly and Nick Hate Christmas
I immediately missed the warmth. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed Ryan was gone. Oh, right.
Olivia pushed through the mingling crowd, a frown creasing her forehead and creating a stark contrast to the bouncy rendition of “Feliz Navidad” playing over the sound system. Dad had rigged it up with Ryan’s help that morning, which went about as well as the karaoke machine and the heater had at first. “Has anyone seen Mom?”
“Maybe half an hour ago? She was replenishing the chips out on the patio.” Every year my parents rented standing space heaters for the back porch so the party could spill outside as needed.
“I told her to let me know what needed to be done so she could relax, especially after all that baking yesterday.” Olivia shoved back her hair—long and loose tonight, which was her version of dressing up—before reaching for a sugar cookie. “She’s impossible.”
“Should I say something about apples and trees? Or let that one go?” I asked.
Olivia glared at me. “Very funny. Also, if I were a fruit, I would not be an apple. I’m obviously something much more exotic. Like a mango.”
I adamantly shook my head. “You donothave mango vibes.”
“You sound like Chloe.” Olivia sighed. “Look, if you see Mom, tell her to stop working and let me handle things, okay? And if you see my children, tell them their cookie quota is met and for the love of dental insurance,pleasehit up the celery dip.”
“Aye, aye.” I saluted.
Olivia snagged one more Santa-shaped cookie. “What?” She bit into the cookie and mumbled around it. “I’m an adult.” Then she hurried off before I could respond.
“Someone should probably tell her Janie and Mason are hiding under the dining room table with the platter of brownies.” Kat strolled up next, slight bags under her eyes. She pushed up the sleeves of her baggy sweater before reaching for the fruit. “Someone that’snotme.”
“Do you have a headache again?” I tilted my head as I studied my sister. Something definitely seemed off—she must not be sleeping well.
“No.” With a scowl, she chomped into a strawberry. Chocolate smeared across her face. “Why?”
“You look a little tired.” I handed her a napkin.
She snatched it from me and dabbed at her chin. “Well, you would too if you were staying up late every night tomaybeget five minutes of bad-connection FaceTime with your deployed husband.” Tears welled in her eyes and she tossed the used napkin at me. “Enjoy your American freedom.”
“Whoa.” The napkin ricocheted off my sweater. I held up both hands in defense, but she’d already slipped into the crowd. I looked up at Nick. “Was that weird?”
Nick winced. “Very. She must miss—what’s his name? Devin?”
I nodded. “Kat isn’t usually the mushy type. She’s a great military wife—strong, independent. Gets things done. They’ve done the long-distance thing for so long now I forget it takes a toll.”
“I guess everyone has their breaking point, especially around the holidays.” Nick grimaced. “We should know, huh?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I better go try to find her before Mrs. Pepper says the wrong thing and ends up as a lawn ornament.”
“I’ll come with you.” Nick tossed our napkins in the trash. “Maybe I’ll see Olivia and break the news about the brownies.”
“She doesn’t usually shoot the messenger.” I led the way, cutting through the line waiting to play Pin the Star on the Tree in the living room. Across the room by the fireplace, another group, including Axel, tackled holiday charades. “But it has happened before.”
“She likes me, remember?” Nick nudged me with his elbow. “Thinks I’m husband material.”
I grimaced as I headed for the back porch. “You caught that?” Strings of twinkle lights crisscrossed the backyard, leading to a firepit tucked in the middle of several Adirondack chairs, only two of which were occupied. Stars glistened overhead.
“None of you Sinclair ladies are as subtle as you think you are.” Nick followed me outside, the screen door slamming behind us as we started down the stairs.
“Oh yeah? Don’t forget, I had you going with Operation: Naughty List.” I spun to face him, victorious—until the December cold bit through my ugly sweater. I shivered.
Suddenly Nick’s hands were on my upper arms, rubbing briskly. “I guess you did.”
Heat rushed through the length of my body, flooding my toes tucked inside my off-brand boots. I closed my eyes and thawed in the warmth, unwilling to spend too much time deciding if I was simply appreciating the respite from the cold, orif I was appreciatinghim.Regardless, there were definite perks to a fake boyfriend. This beat Mrs. Pepper’s endless questions any day.
But wait. I opened my eyes. Was Ryan even out here?
Nick’s hands stilled, lingering on my shoulders. “Um, Holly?”
