Page 4 of Claimed and Catalogued
She lights up like the tree behind her. “Really?”
“Sure, but I’m not wearing anything jingly.”
“Got it.” She smiles as she says, “No jingles. Thank you! I promise you’ll have fun.”
“That’s a big promise,” I say, studying her face as I try to figure out what it is about her that made me say yes when I wanted to say no.
She holds out her tiny hand again, sinking it into mine, and for a terrifying half second, it feels like she belongs there. “Thank you, really. This means a lot to me.”
Unsure of how to respond, I grunt a reply and watch as she bounces away, curls and curves putting on a show I know I’ll be thinking about in bed tonight.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Chapter Three
Evie
“I have no idea what I’m doing.” I stare at Marley, the owner of the bookstore, the woman who’s become one of my closest friends. She’s wearing a smile, a blue sweater dress, and a long French braid with dried flowers tucked into the creases. The woman is a perpetual ray of sunshine no matter what’s going on around her.
“This is fun.” She slides a stack of twenty-dollar bills into the old-style register then pushes the drawer closed. “Plus, you’ve got tons of eyes on the store now. Everyone in town is talking about this Santa auction.”
I glance around the store at the twinkling lights, the greenery strung from shelf to shelf, and the candy canes on the tree. It’s cozy, it’s magic, and it’s hanging on by a thread, but Marley is as cool and composed as can be. I’ve always envied that about her. Tess is like that too. They’re the kind of women that don’t unravel, at least not in public. Me, I’ll have a breakdown pretty much anywhere, then I’ll spend hours stress-painting about it. Sort of like I did last night after I somehow found the nerve to ask the big, massive, super-hot giant if he’d be a part of our Santa auction.
The paint by number barn soothed my nerves a little, but I’m nervous to see him again today. I mean, what was I thinking? He’s clearly not from around here, I did zero vetting on him, andhe looks like the kind of guy who’d murder someone with an axe and not feel any guilt about it.Why did I ask him to be Santa? Is it because he had a white beard? Lots of dudes have white beards.
I know why…because I wanted to talk to him, and I needed a reason.
Marley disappears into her office as a small gaggle of thirsty women comes into the shop. Tess is behind them, wearing all black with a little gold bow pinned to her chest. It’s not bookstore attire, but I think she prefers to look like she just walked off a runway somewhere. I blame it on her city roots.
“I grabbed the altered suit at the seamstress shop on my way over. She said she did the best she could, but without actual measurements,” Tess smirks, “I doubt it’s going to fit him. That man was huge.”
“Okay,” I say, twisting back toward the bidding cards I’m gluing together. “We have five men and sixty women. We should make some decent money tonight for the store.”
“But that doesn’t solve the part where you have no date to your sister’s wedding. Maybe you should bid.”
The corner of the bidding card sticks to my thumb as the women take their seats behind me at the bidding area. “Yeah right. I’ve got bills to pay. Besides, I’m not going tobuya date for my sister’s wedding. Everyone in town will know I’m with hot Santa. That’s embarrassing.”
Tess smirks. “No one will know who won. Just you, me, and sixty of our closest mountain friends.”
“Exactly.” I sigh and glue another popsicle stick onto the festive red cards I spent last night printing. “My mom will smell a fake a mile away. Plus, she keeps up with everything in town. I’m sure she knows about the auction.”
“Okay.” Tess lifts a brow playfully and tips her coffee mug up, taking a long, dramatic sip before speaking. “So, let someone else bid on him. Maybe some Christmas magic will happen.”
I glare at my friend and stuff down the memories of the sick dreams I had last night while twisting the top back onto the glue stick. “Don’t. I don’t need a date to the wedding. I’ve decided it’s time I’m more like you and Marley.”
Her brows narrow. “What’s that mean?”
“Nothing bad. I just meant that I want to be more independent. I don’t need a date to duck and cover behind. I can handle my family just fine on my own.”
“No offense, but last family event, you called me crying from the bathroom of the diner. I had to bring tissues and coax you out with a box full of puppies.”
I glare at her playfully. “Youdid notbring a box full of puppies.”
“I thought I was going to have to get one, though. You were inconsolable. I’m independent, sure, but if my mother were like yours, I’d definitely bring a big, hot dude to strut around with, just to mess with them all. I mean, your mom compared you to expiring milk.”
I’d buried that one deep. “She—”
“She’s insane, and there’s nothing wrong with you wanting a little boost of man candy next to you while you manage all their shit. So, if someone you love happens to bid on a big, hunky man tonight, consider it an early Christmas gift, okay?”
