Page 27 of Three Days of Holiday

Hope groaned on the phone. “When did you turn ninety?”

“Be ready when I get there,” I said and then hung up on her.

Work needed to be done if I planned to beat the five-year-running taste-off champion. Otherwise known as a liar, liar pants on fire, Will Causebay.

Only two othercars were parked in the convention center parking lot as I picked a parking space right at the front door. It would take at least three or four more trips with Hope’s car to get my supplies in the building. I wanted to ask one of my brothers if I could borrow a truck but didn’t want to give them a reason for any more of them to hang around and punch men I might accidentally kiss.

Not that I planned on kissing anyone.

The last hours of competition prep were hitting us, and I needed to test out everything on the table to make sure our setup was perfect. I needed to compare the lighting in the space to how the colors popped. With as much as I planned, there was no way to get it done with just Hope and me the morning of the competition. I had to set up our tables early even if it meant giving competitors a sneak peek on my plans.

Christmas was the busiest season for the orchard next to pumpkins and the fall apple harvest. I couldn’t ask all my brothers to give up a day of work for the competition, but I forced Hale to help as punishment for hitting Will.

I popped the trunk of my car and struggled to pull outthe fake Christmas tree from the backend. I wanted to cut down a few live trees from the Christmas tree farm, but Haden about crapped out a brick when I mentioned the idea. He ranted and raved about how those trees had to grow for three to five years and then stuff about air pollution, oxygen distribution, and profit maximization.

Ultimately, after his twenty-minute lecture, I concluded he wouldn’t let me hack a couple of baby trees. You’d think they were his children or something.

As a last-ditch effort, I resorted to fake trees from the shopping mall outside of town. They were a poor substitute but had to be enough.

The winter chilled my cheeks as the tree box finally came loose from the trunk and I handed it over to Hale to carry into the conference center.

“Where do you want this?” Hale asked, holding the box with one arm.

I scowled at him for good measure. How come he let me struggle to get the box out of the trunk but then he carried it around with one hand like it weighed nothing?

“We have five tables in the back. You’ll see our name on them.”

Hale took the tree and two bolts of fabric Hope and I bought the day before through the double doors of the building, and I returned to pull more crap from the trunk.

A large vehicle rumbled on the pavement next to my car and came to a stop a few spaces from me. From the corner of my eye, I peeked, allowing myself a glance and then the glare I used on my brother turned into an outright frown.

It wasn’t a semi like it felt like, but was almost as bad.A large moving-sized truck took up two parking spaces. It had Causebay Family Farms written on the back in a splashy font. I wanted a truck with Oceanview Orchards written on it. We needed a truck ASAP.

Will parked like he didn’t have a single care in the world for anyone else as he stopped in the middle of the spaces and shut the truck off.

Just like a Causebay.

Dog paws scratched against the passenger side window and I smiled at Bacon. No one could get upset at Bacon.

William—I could definitely be upset with—jumped out of the truck and opened the door for his dog. His nose, that originally had light blue bruising around the bottom, was slowly turning into an ugly yellow color. It looked worse than the day before at the bakery.

Bacon ran over and nudged my hand with his head, probably searching for more cider. I gave him a good scratch behind the ears, completely ignoring his owner.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t so unaware of me. “You ignore me, but lavish the dog with attention?” Will asked, coming to stand less than a foot away. Too close.

Way too close. I swore just being in his presence messed with the surrounding air, but it was more than likely he blocked the wind with his body rather than his presence. At least I kept telling myself that.

I gave Bacon another good scratch. “The dog doesn’t lie.”

Will chuckled, but it died quickly, maybe from him realizing my seriousness. “For your information, he lies. I asked him where he put my last pair of jeans and he told me he didn’t know.”

I was still leaning down to give Bacon heavy scratches but allowed myself a quick glance at Will’s pants.

They were a black pair of dress pants as if he was going to work rather than the convention center. My gaze traveled up to take in his baby blue button-down shirt. At least he maintained the business professional look the whole way through, even if it was out of place in Clearwater.

I couldn’t say I hated the fashion statement. Will looked good in a button-down shirt and a pair of black pants. He looked good in jeans, too. I wet my lips with my tongue and the cold air froze it over immediately.

I wanted to do and say so many things at that moment. Scream at him for being a dirty liar and a jerk face and a cheat, but also run into his arms and let him wrap me in a warm embrace.

---