Page 44 of Booked for the Holidays
“Nice work, man,” Jasper says, clapping me on the shoulder.
“Thanks, but that was all Juniper.” I watch her weaving through her family, hugging her mom, laughing with her cousin’s kids like I’m not standing here wanting more.
Stella gives me a knowing look. “So…how’s our girl handling your extended stay?”
Jasper eyes my sweater which is mostly icing-free except for a smear near my wrist.
“You’re not covered in frosting, so I assume you’re not dead yet.”
I huff a dry laugh. “I’m surviving. But I’m starting to understand why you looked so damn miserable all those years.”
Jasper lifts a brow. “Miserable?”
“You know what I mean. You were in love with Stella while pretending you weren’t.” I rake a hand through my hair, eyes tracking Juniper as she tries to duck behind the snack table. “I feel like that guy in that movie Stella made us watch.”
Stella smirks. “You’re going to have to be more specific. I’ve made you guys watch a lot of movies.”
“The one where the guy can’t just be friends with the girl. Where he realizes he wants her and wants the rest of his life with her to start now.”
Stella’s smile softens. “When Harry Met Sally.”
“Yeah. That one. I’m Harry.” I drag a palm over my jaw. “Except instead of a New Year’s Eve confession, I’ve got gingerbread houses and forced proximity to work with.”
Jasper chuckles. “You’re going to need to do better than icing and mulled wine, man.”
“I know.” I glance toward Juniper one more time—pink bow slightly askew, cheeks flushed from laughing—and my gut twists with the need to close the space she keeps wedging between us.
“I need something,” I murmur, more to myself than to them. “Something to tip the scales.”
Stella squeezes my arm. “You’ll figure it out, Liam. She’s stubborn, but you’re impossible.”
“Good thing that’s always worked for me.”
THIRTEEN
JUNIPER
The kitchen’smostly dark now, lit only by the soft glow of the under-cabinet lights. Everyone else has moved downstairs to the oversized sectional to watch a holiday movie.
Noting the mulled wine I brought is gone, I unplug the crockpot and run the ceramic insert under the faucet to soak it. I’m tidying up the gingerbread house displays when I catch the shimmer of a cellophane wrapper. I’d been certain, from the way they’d been bouncing off the walls, that the kids had eaten every last piece of candy, but the universe must know I’m in need of a sweet treat and left me one cherry swirl hard candy to enjoy.
Pinching the ends of the cellophane wrapper between my fingers, I pull them apart to release the candy.
“What do you have there?”
The voice startles me, and the spiral burgundy and white candy skitters across the countertop. My eyes dart toward the doorway where Liam has appeared. He’s leaning there, arms crossed, grin lazy. The kind of grin that makes me want to throw something at his perfect face.
Or kiss it.
Oh, hell no.
He’s trying to distract me, but I’m not playing to lose. Not like last year.
I smack my hand down on the candy piece to claim it.
Liam pushes off the doorframe. “Is that a cherry swirl candy?” he asks, eyes flashing with curiosity as he approaches.
“Yeah. And it’s mine.” I teasingly hold it in his direction before dramatically popping it into my mouth.
