Page 55 of The Runaway Bride of Blitzen Bay (Blitzen Bay)

“Fine. No more touching.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Number two: I don’t want you to spend Christmas alone, but you have to leave this town on December 26. It’s the cutest place I’ve ever seen and if you stay here more than a week you will never leave, especially with Mr. Huggy being here. You leave the day after Christmas. Agreed?”

“Yeah, I need to get back and find a new place to live anyway.”

“Excellent. I’m going to FaceTime you on that day and I better see L.A. in the background. I want to see smog and traffic and palm trees. Understand?”

I take a deep breath and nod again.

“And number three—and this is the most important one. When I got to the bar this afternoon, I saw a man who legitimately might be Santa Claus. You are to avoid him at all costs. You must never look at him or talk to him. He’s the most adorable person I’ve ever seen, and I know sweet old men are like catnip for you.”

“His middle name is Nicholas.”

“Of course it is.” She looks in the air and shakes her head. “God, you’ve already talked to him, haven’t you?”

“He invited me to be his date on Christmas at a dinner party he’s having.”

“Oh God, this is much worse than I thought.”

“His wife died two years ago.” My eyes start to tear up again. “I can’t stand him up.”

“Stop! You absolutely will not stand him up.” She breathes in deeply. “Go to the dinner, but don’t look him directly in the eyes. I seriously think his precious face might hypnotize you. And then you’ll disappear into this town and I’ll never be able to find you again—like in Brigadoon.”

I sit up straight. “I thought about Brigadoon this morning!”

“Of course you did. How many times do you think Grandma made us watch that with her?”

“At least a hundred. She had a huge crush on Gene Kelly.”

“Huge,” she says, laughing. “She always used to say he was so ‘neat and tidy.’ Like that was something to get hot about.”

“God, I miss her. This time of year, it’s brutal. What do you think she would tell me now?”

“She would tell you to get on with your life—get beyond the drama, the men with beautiful arms, the cute old Santa men—and get back to reality. Go back to L.A. and start law school. Everything else will fall into place.”

I lay my head back on her chest and nod. I look at Nash out on the deck. He’s leaning back with his feet up on a chair, draining the last of his beer as he looks out at the frozen lake. Kit’s right. Although my body’s almost physically aching for him right now, there’s no way that anything that happens between us could be anything more than a rebound. And technically, I’m still engaged. Although I know it’s over. I’ve known for longer than I care to admit.

Nash answers his phone. He jumps up and starts pacing back and forth. He glances in at us a couple of times. After he hangs up, he looks out at the lake for a minute. He looks like he’s trying to figure something out. Finally, he turns around, opens the door, and peeks his head through.

“Umm, I have bad news—”

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