Page 15 of A Very Merry Enemy
No acknowledgment. NoYou’re welcome. Nothing.
He gets in, slams the door, and drives away without a single glance in my direction.
I stand there in the cold, watching his taillights disappear down the driveway.
How did we become this? Two people who can’t even manage a conversation.
He helped me because he’s not heartless enough to leave me stranded. But he won’t give me even the smallest kindness of a response.
Before I left for culinary school, he would’ve followed me home to make sure I made it safely. He would’ve checked my battery connections, told me to get it looked at in the morning. He would’ve cared. Now we’re just strangers who happen to work on the same property.
Actually, we’re a step below strangers.
I don’t know the man he’s become.
I don’t want to.
I climb into my car, crank the heat, and drive home.
The entire way, I think about his silence and how it feels heavier than any words he could’ve said.
Tomorrow, I’ll be back at the farm before sunrise, and he’ll probably already be there with his chain saw and his scowl. We’ll continue this dance of avoiding each other until Christmas.
How will either of us survive the season?
By choice. By necessity. And by pretending that being near him doesn’t still make my heart race the way it did when I was eighteen and stupid enough to believe we had a chance at forever.
CHAPTER 4
LUCAS
I’m standing outside the bakery an hour before it opens, and I can smell sugar seeping through the cracks. The scent pisses me off.
There was a time when Holiday and I planned to enter the annual Merryville cookie baking contest together. When we’d talk about sharing the trophy and taking turns keeping it at our houses. That was back when I believed we’d share a lot of things, before I learned her promises meant nothing.
Through the glass, Holiday places cookies in the display case like she’s handling precious diamonds. Her brown hair is twisted into a messy bun. It’s the way she used to wear it when we were teenagers. I used to reach up and tug it loose when we were alone in the barn.
I bury the memory down deep where it belongs.
The faint smell of cinnamon drifts in the cold morning air, mixing with fresh cut pine from the precut lot across the way. Frost clings to the windows and sparkles in the early sunlight. The whole scene looks like a damn Christmas card.
She smiles at something, probably herself, and I hate how she thinks she can waltz onto my family’s farm like this. I toldher to stay away from me. I will never, ever let her forget what she did.
Nine o’clock sharp, she flips the sign to Open and unlocks the door. “Silver Bells” plays from inside the shop. It’s cheerful and bright, completely opposite of how I feel.
When she sees I’m first in line with twenty-five people behind me, her smile vanishes.
I love ruining her day as much as she’s already ruined mine.
“What do you want, Lucas?” she asks through gritted teeth.
“Just in the mood for some sweets.” I follow her inside, taking my time scanning the case. Peppermint bark brownies, butter cookies with icing, and sugar cookies shaped like Christmas trees. Behind her in the kitchen, I can see racks of more cookies cooling.
Bethany appears from the back, tying on her apron. “Lucas!” she says, actually excited to see me.
I give her a kind smile because it’s not her fault her aunt sucks.
I shove my hands in my pockets. “I’ll take everything.”
