Page 30 of The Crush of Christmas Past
“Sure. Until then…” His fingers close around the shirt.
“Until then…?”
He leans in, his words kissing my lips. “Mine, Sunshine.”
A shiver dances down my spine.
The worst part?
I can’t tell if it’s provoked by dread, need, or something worse.
Something foolish and deadly like a backstabbing bitch namedHope.
Eleven
Isla
Theicywindbrushesfrosty kisses against my cheeks as I climb the gazebo steps. Stretching onto my tiptoes, I pluck one of the red-and-white-striped envelopes dangling from the garland-wrapped posts.
“Final clue?” Asher calls from below, his voice steeped in optimism. After an hour of full-throttle scavenging, his enthusiasm has taken a nosedive.
“You wish. We’re only about halfway through.” I tug the paper free and scan the words on the card, my breath fogging the air. “You’re the one who signed us up for this couple’s challenge. Didn’t you read the fineprint?”
My partner doesn’t respond. He’s already stepping ahead, his attention bouncing from his phone screen to the antique shop down the street.
“I’ve gotta make a quick detour,” he says as I catch up to him. His tone is casual, almost aloof, but the tension in his furrowed brow gives him away.
“Sienna?” As if I need to ask.
“She…we…” He rubs his forehead, eyes glassy and unfocused. “I need to see her.”
I fold my arms, carefully weighing my words. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I bite back the reminder that his ex is getting married in a matter of days. That particular countdown is surely burned into his brain.
He meets my gaze. “It’s important.”
“Okay.” I offer a sympathetic nod. “Understood.” Whatever is happening between the two of them is bigger than the town’s annual Holly & Heart Holiday Hunt. “I won’t ask questions, but I’m here if you need to talk.”
“Thanks, Lala.” He squeezes my shoulder before starting toward The Starlight Vault. “I owe you!”
“A whole-ass trophy!” I call after him, though we both know the prize would just collect dust in the back of one of our closets. Evangeline and Graham—who proudly add a new award to their mantel every year—would disown us if they got wind of our apathy toward the competition.
I pause to watch him disappear down the street before turning to shrug at my reflection in one of the store windows. While I wasn’t expecting to be abandoned mid-hunt, I’m not devastated to tackle the rest of the mission solo. The faster I finish, the sooner I can snag a coveted Snowy S’more treat from one of the vendors at the springs.
They’re only seasonal, and I’ve been dreaming about them since last Christmas.
Taking a deep, centering breath, I turn my attention to the clue in my hand.
A place where Grandma’s secrets swirl,
Recipes to make your taste buds twirl.
Seek the crooked grin, one of a kind—
Sweetness, family, and love you’ll find.
I can’t help but laugh. The Rotary Club members responsible for penning the riddles clearly had a blast playing Shakespeare. Not that I fault them for making it cheesy—or easy. The game is all in good fun, its main goal being to highlight the town’s businesses.
Next stop: Sugarpine Sweets.
