Page 63 of Wrapped with a Beau

When the doorbell rings, Jamie excuses himself. “That’ll be Dad,” he says, clapping Ves’s shoulder on his way out. “Grab a pew, son.”

“Sit next to Elisha,” says Anita, shooing both of them toward the only two plates side by side. Elisha claims her spot, drawing her legs under her to sit cross-legged.

Ves waits until Jamie returns with Dave, thinking he’ll finally get a chance to shake someone’s hand. He readies himself to thrust it out, even though he saw the man yesterday to work on the runners for the sleigh. Dave glances at the outstretched hand, then, to Ves’s astonishment, pulls him into a hug.

Ves breathes in the scent of wood shavings, Werther’s caramel candy, and the faintest trace of cigarette smoke. None of these things have any special significance to him, so why does his chest ache?

It’s the strangest thing. The last time he felt like this was...

Hmm. A long time ago. When Maeve gave him that handknitted red scarf. That, too, was without warning. Snuck up on him out of nowhere, a foreign rush of emotion that he’s never had the words to describe. It’s like a hand around his heart, digging in its sharp nails at irregular intervals, whenever Ves thinks the sting has passed.

Anita sniffs. “Dave, have you been hanging around at the Cheery Chinchilla?”

Ves is released. “Absolutely not,” says Dave staunchly, but then he ruins it by winking at Elisha.

“Oh, Dad,” Jamie groans. To Ves, he explains, “It’s this little hole-in-the-wall hangout spot. It’s probably not even up to code and it’s the farthest thing from cheery, believe me. The floor is perpetually sticky, the walls stink of stale smoke, and the average age of the occupants is, what, eighty?”

“Probably less now,” says Dave. “Had a few funerals this summer that lowered it.”

“Because all you old coots go there to drink and smoke. Dad, your heart, you’re not as young as—”

“James, who’s the dad and who’s the son here?”

Jamie sets his jaw. In that moment, he looks exactly as determined as his daughter. Ves remembers that same unyielding expression on Elisha’s face when she came over at the Old Stoat to sweet-talk him his first night in town. Good to see she comes by it honestly.

Half out of genuine curiosity and half to gently remind the family of his presence so they’d stop bickering in front of a guest, Ves asks, “Did you say Cheery Chinchilla?”

Elisha sputters into her glass of wine, resolutely not looking at him.

Misunderstanding, Anita shakes her head. “It’s tucked away on one of the side streets, but it’s definitely not one of Piney Peaks’s must-see destinations.”

Ves keeps his eyes on Elisha. “But a chinchilla is a... what, exactly?”

“It’s a close cousin to the armadillo,” she shoots back, managing to keep a straight face.

He works his mouth from side to side. “Hmm, I don’t think that’s it.”

“It’s, like, basically an aardvark.”

“Nope, not buying it.”

“Ves, just say you don’t know your basic mammals and let’s move on.”

“Is this flirting?” asks Dave, head swiveling between the two like he’s watching a tennis match.

“The weirdest kind I’ve ever seen,” Jamie says with a laugh.

Anita looks like she doesn’t know whether to be amused or exasperated. “Elisha, stop teasing the poor boy. Ves, a chinchilla is a rodent. A cross between a mouse and squirrel. Now, can we eat?”

Chapter Thirty-One

Ves

Mooooom.” Elisha groans, cheeks blooming a splotchy pink. “How could you sell me out like that?”

Anita blinks. “What? It is a rodent.”

Ves grins victoriously. Elisha, on the other hand, is supremely mature and sticks out her tongue.

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