Page 37 of Mad About Yule

I shove his shoulder. “Forget I asked.”

His low, rich laughter dances up my back like he’s tracing his fingers along my spine.

“If I had to choose, I’d go with a dungeon house. I hear women like those.”

“I don’t think you need any help attracting women.”

No.No. I did not just say that.

His face splits into a smug smile like he used to wear whenever I’d concede a point to him in class after a long back and forth. I kind of want to slither down the drain to escape his self-congratulations.

“Don’t take that the wrong way,” I add.

“Explain to me the right way to take it.”

I’m trying to come up with a believable way to say “I don’t think you’re hot” when someone calls my name.

Should I be grateful my mom just saved me or horrified?

I’m going with horrified.

She waltzes over to us, way too delighted by this chance encounter.Oh please, let it be a chance encounter.I don’t like the idea of her spying on me, looking for an opportunity to interrupt, but I can’t totally discount it.

“I’m glad I caught you.”

Her eyes dart from me to Griffin, and of course she immediately notices his bruised head. It doesn’t look any less awful today, and I still wince at the glaring reminder of my mishap in the warehouse.

Mom points at her own head. “Are you all right?”

He shrugs it off like the big old bruise is totally normal. “All good.”

I make cursory introductions, wishing I’d stayed in the warehouse. I’d rather let my stomach start digesting itself than endure whatever must be coming.

“We’re all so glad you stepped up to help Hope out,” she tells him. “She was saying the other night how impressed she is with your work.”

Griffin’s eyes lock on me. “Really.”

Not a question. More of a smug gloat. It’s simultaneously mortifying, and really, really attractive. Ugh. I can’t be smitten with Griffin McBride. I need to crumple all thatsmitup like old wrapping paper right this second.

“That’s not exactly what I said.” I can’t rememberwhatI said, but Mom will make it sound ten times more flattering than it was. It’s all part of her “This house is a bargain at any price” attitude.

“You really came through for her,” Mom goes on. “She said you’re the best man for the job.”

Apparently, Griffin has been keeping his smuggest smiles under wraps until right this minute. Smirking that hard has got to hurt.

“I said you wereaman for the job. Whether or not you’re the best remains to be seen.”

Mom ticks her head to the side, silently scolding me, but it doesn’t matter anyway. Griffin’s expression is unchanged.

“I have no problem with proving it, Hope.”

My stomach swoops low, flooding with warmth. Maybe I got something fishy in my burger at the diner. It isnotGriffin-induced.

Mom smiles away at him for another few seconds before turning to me. “I ran into Mayor Martinez this morning. He’s very enthusiastic about your festival.”

“I’m glad to have him on my side.” He’s supported me ever since I stood up to volunteer, and even pushed for a bigger budget than the original number. He’s not all-powerful in this town, but it’s good to have him in my corner.

“We were talking about how Sunshine needs someone focused solely on bringing in travel and tourism. You’re doing so well with the Christmas festival, think of what you could do year round.”

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