Page 4 of Mad About Yule

She lifts her eyebrows at him in a silent command, all but saying out loud he doesn’t really want to help me with this. Usually, I like my volunteers to be willing and eager. I don’t know how I feel about the silent arm-twisting.

Griffin gives her a brief nod. “It won’t be a problem.”

I should appreciate his confidence and leave it at that, but his brush-off hits me wrong. People in town have been shrugging off my project ever since I stepped up to run it—I don’t need my volunteer looking down on it, too. “You don’t know what I have planned yet.”

He ticks his head to the side, facing me more fully. “Do youwantit to be a problem?”

“Obviously not, but what if I ask you to build thirty houses? What if I want a replica Bavarian village in town square? What if I want a life-sized Christmas Town complete with Jack Skellington and Sally? None of that would be a problem?”

“Are you asking for any of that?”

“No.”

“Then it won’t be a problem.”

Amazing how quickly he can crawl right under my skin.

The arrogance that had rubbed me wrong in high school now makes me want to start a fight right here in the café—which probably wouldn’t be very smart, considering everything I’m about to ask him to do. His blunt criticisms always drove me crazy. I couldn’t understand his need to be so negative, and it looks like that hasn’t changed.

I take a deep breath, imagining how magical my Winter Wonderland buildings will look when they’re done.That’sthe main thing, not Griffin’s excess of self-confidence. And definitely not that whenever I used to play the Kiss, Marry, Kill game, I always axed Griffin without a trace of guilt.

In another minute, the barista passes around our coffees. Kat takes hers and hitches her purse farther up her shoulder. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Check in with me later, son. Bye, Hope.”

My mouth falls open to say something to get her to stay, but she hustles out the door before I can come up with a plea.

I risk another glance at Griffin.

Big mistake. He’s watching me a little too avidly, and I get the feeling he’s already tallying up faults and failures to point out later. I’ve had enough hazel-eyed condescension from him to last a lifetime. We’ll just have to build the Wonderland with a minimum of eye contact.

“Do you want to sit down?” I ask. “I can tell you more about the festival, and then we can go to the warehouse around the corner to look over the plans.”

“I’d rather see what you’ve got in store for me now.”

I will just chalk that up to unbridled enthusiasm and not the low-key dread it sounds like. “Okay then.”

We leave the coffee shop and set off for the warehouse a few blocks away. Now that I don’t have his eyes boring directly into me, I can think for a minute. Mostly, I think about my regrets.

When Kat said she knew someone, I never guessed she meant Griffin. One of herotheremployees, maybe. A friendly neighborhood handyman I’ve never heard about.Nother cocky younger son I’ve been doing my best to avoid since he came back to town.

He was some kind of construction guru up in Portland since high school, but he moved back after his dad suddenly passed away nearly a year ago. I’ve heard a few colorful stories about his poor customer service skills over at his family’s landscaping business, but he wasn’t on my list of people to reconnect with.

From the way he eyes me, I’m not on his, either.

“Did your mom tell you anything about the Winter Wonderland?” I ask to fill up the silence.

“Just that you need something built.”

“I really do. You know those light-up miniature Christmas villages people put on their mantels?”

He arches an eyebrow at me. Right. This is Griffin McBride. He doesn’t seem like much of a Christmas decorator. He probably staples his stocking to the wall and calls it good.

“Anyway, I got the idea to make one of those, but person-sized, to be the backdrop for Santa visits in town square.”

“So you’re putting a replica little town in the middle of an actual little town.”

He doesn’tsayanything critical, but it’s implied.

“It’s going to be cute. Kids will love it.”Iwill love it, but that’s implied, too.

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