Page 38 of Once Upon a Christmas Beauty

“Parts are in, just waiting on the shop to get them installed. They’re dealing with staffing shortages just like everyone else. I’m hoping it’ll be done by the end of the week.”

His icemaker kicked on, the sound giving Alex a start. It seemed his guilt for all these lies had him strung a little tight tonight. He was going to have to find a way to minimize them going forward.

They talked a while longer, and by the time they said good night, all Alex could think was that Friday couldn’t come fast enough. He could use a little distance from his father’s badgering, and she sounded like she could definitely use an emotional boost after tonight’s band concert surprise.

But then, who said his work week had to end on a Friday?

Alex set his phone down and started on another unplanned project: rearranging his schedule to get him back to Mia sooner. As long as his calls got made and clients kept happy, he could craft his schedule however he wanted. It was time to try out Del’s motto on his own family:

What his father didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Chapter Ten

Mia sat beneaththe checkout tent at the Oak Barrel Farms Christmas tree lot Thursday night, toasty warm thanks to her faux fur-lined boots, winter coat, thick gloves, and the awesome standup patio heater Del and Chase had invested in. Last weekend’s mild weather had been hijacked by a small snowstorm earlier today that dropped four inches of heavy, wet snow on their town. Not that she was complaining—it made Christmas feel that much closer. From the happy squeals of little ones tromping down the sidewalks of Main Street in new winter boots to the snow glistening off the overhead street light decorations, the scene in Bourbon Falls was downright magical.

It was almost enough to take her mind off that darned baby bump.

Mia’s smile slipped as the image of Greg lovingly touching his new wife’s belly haunted her anew. How had Brooklyn seriously not noticed it these past few weeks? Becky was a twig, her usual wardrobe consisting of items that showed off her ridiculously flat stomach. That baby doll dress over leggings had been a deviation from the norm at the concert Tuesday night, but Mia would never have guessed in a million years it was to hide a baby bump.

For fifteen years, Greg had insisted one child was more than enough. Fifteen years of her hinting, asking, even begging, and him always telling her no. Now the new wife came along, batted her pretty mascara’d lashes, and he caved? Just like that?

“Uh-oh, Chase, she’s turning red again.” Del stepped under the tent and came to stand before the patio heater, hands extended toward it. “Sweetheart, we know he’s a total douche who did you wrong, but you have to let it go.”

“Not likely,” Mia grumbled, knowing deep down that her sister was right; it did her no good to sit here stewing. But letting bygones be bygones was harder some days than others.

If only Alex was here to sufficiently distract her with some witty banter. Or more kissing—that would definitely help keep her mind off wanting to throat punch Greg. Alex was a million times better kisser than her ex ever was.

Ha! Enjoy those mediocre kisses, Becky!

Del came around Mia’s side and wrapped her sister in a toasty hug. “I know, it sucks, Mi. But no baby will ever be more adorable than Brooklyn was. And I’m calling it right now—their kid is doomed to be a nose-laugher like his mother.”

Mia grinned. No, it wasn’t right to pick on the woman, but since she was married to Mia’s ex, that made everything about her fair game for scrutiny, starting with her laugh. Whether a chuckle or a belly laugh, the woman scrunched her nose and did the laughing through it instead of her mouth. Often, it sounded more like a breathy snort. She looked to Del, and the two of them broke out into simultaneous nose laughter.

That’s when a snowball hit one of the tent’s support poles.

They exchanged a wide-eyed look. Was it Karma or an ornery local?

A second snowball arrived, this time smashing into a tree standing beside the tent’s other side. The look of surprise in her sister’s eyes shifted to one of intended retaliation.

“It’s gotta be Chase,” Del whispered, ducking behind the table to scoop up some snow from the mound created when they’d cleared the checkout area earlier. “Come on, help me make a stockpile.”

“Oh no,” Mia said. “Snowball fights aren’t safe, and I am not getting in the middle of—” A snowball hit her square in the shoulder. “Okay,nowit’s game on.”

“Atta girl.” Del stood, three hastily made snowballs in hand, and lobbed one in the direction it seemed the others had come from. “Eat snow, Chase!”

“Why would I do that?” He stepped under the tent from the other direction, looked to the snowballs in hand, and arched a brow. “What are you guys doing?”

Another snowball launched from the north side of the lot, and Mia yelled for him to look out. It missed him by an inch, finding its mark on a wreath hanging on the front of the checkout table.

With a shrug, Chase ducked behind the checkout table and started making snowballs of his own.

“Ha! For once I wasn’t the instigator,” Del said. “But if it isn’t any of us, who’s out there?”

“My bet’s on Isaac,” Mia said.

Chase tossed one over the row of trees just north of the tent and an “Ew!” rang out. The trio exchanged a grin.

“Brooklyn,” they said in unison.

---