Page 13 of A Perfect Christmas Romance (Kringle, Texas #8)

“What happened to your convertible?” she asked once they belted themselves in.

“I needed something more reliable. I sold her to a collector on the West Coast. She’s better off in California.”

Liv’s heart twisted as Nick’s words pulled her back to another conversation—one she’d long tried to forget.

They’d been sitting on her dorm room floor, surrounded by textbooks, takeout containers, and plans that had seemed so clear back then. She remembered running her fingers across the back of his hand, marveling at how steady he seemed, even when everything else felt uncertain.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” she’d asked, her voice tentative but hopeful.

Nick had smiled in that lazy, boyish way she loved. “Maybe Chicago. Maybe Dallas. Maybe another country. Who knows?”

“And us?” Liv pressed wanting more, needing him to say what she already knew in her heart.

He’d kissed her then, slow and sweet.

“I hope so,” he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek.

But hopes weren’t promises. And in the end, his fear of commitment had been stronger than what they had. A week later, he’d left—not just her dorm room, but the future they’d once imagined together.

Liv blinked, bringing herself back into the moment.

“ It’s better off in California,” Liv corrected, unable to help herself. Some habits die hard.

It was an old disagreement. She thought it was silly to assign gender to inanimate objects. Nick insisted on personifying his vehicles.

He grinned. “Are we sparring now?”

“Do you want to spar?” Liv shot back.

“Answering a question with a question, huh? What are you avoiding, Liv?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

“You just answered my question with another question. What are you avoiding, Nick?”

His gaze held hers, and she could tell he was struggling not to laugh. “I forgot how much fun this was. You keep me on my toes.”

“And you swept me off mine.” The words tumbled out before she could stop them, like a Freudian slip wearing roller skates.

He dropped his gaze to the mirrors as he pulled into traffic. “Listen, there’s something I want to ask?—”

Liv had been waiting for this and beat him to the punch, her words coming out faster than an auctioneer on espresso. “You want more help with Matilda Merris. That’s why you asked me to brunch.”

“I—”

“Seriously, it’s okay to admit this is nothing but business. I can respect that. I just need to know so that I don’t get my hopes up.”

“You have hopes about me?” He pulled up to a red light and slid her a sideways glance.

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not an idiot.” Just a woman with a Ph.D. in Overthinking and a minor in Emotional Self-Sabotage.

“Look,” he said. “I didn’t ask you to brunch to hatch a game plan for approaching Matilda.”

“You didn’t?”

“I won’t say it didn’t cross my mind, but I understand you’ve already gone out on a limb to get me this far, and I appreciate it.

That’s why I’m taking you to brunch to thank you for this favor.

I owe you.” He pulled up in front of the restaurant and shut off the engine.

Pinned her with a stare that could stop a clock. “Big time.”

“So, this is just me and you getting to know each other again over brunch?”

“That’s all.”

“All right then,” she said and got out of the vehicle before Nick could come around and help her out.

Why had she done that? Liv wasn’t sure she had an answer. She certainly didn’t want him opening her car door like she was some fragile flower. Or did she? Her inner feminist and her inner romantic locked in a wrestling match.

He did, however, manage to grab the restaurant door handle before she arrived and pushed it open for her.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s a sign of respect. I’d do it for anyone.”

“So that means you’re comfortable with me holding the door for you?”

“Yes.” Nick bobbed his head. “Yes, I am. I’ve already got this one. You can get the next door we come to.”

The hostess seated them, and they opted for the brunch buffet. Five minutes later, they met back at the table, their plates overflowing.

Liv tucked into the pecan Belgian waffles with browned butter and maple syrup and made a soft sound of pleasure. “Mmm. These are so good, and I rarely eat waffles. This is such a splurge.”

“Indulge yourself,” Nick said. “It’s the holidays.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” She crunched a crisp piece of bacon.

They ate for a moment in silence, enjoying the meal. Then Nick dabbed his mouth with his napkin and said, “How’s your sister taking the divorce?”

“Are you psychic?”

“I don’t believe in psychics.” Nick laughed. “But why do you ask?”

“Because my sister came to my house this morning, and she seems to be unraveling. I tried to support her as best I could, but I don’t think I was very effective.”

“Unraveling? What do you mean?”

“Well, besides being mega-anxious, she’s now questioning the very institution of marriage.”

“Aah, that’s kind of a bummer when you’re engaged to be married.”

“Yeah.”

“So, how about you?” he asked.

“Huh?” She blinked at him. “What about me?”

“How are you handling the breakup?”

“I’m fine.” Liv lifted a shoulder and felt her heart bump against the compartment that she’d stuffed her parents’ marriage into. They weren’t divorced yet. She wasn’t going to call it a divorce until it was official. Denial wasn’t just a river in Egypt. It was her current home address.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve got broad shoulders. Anytime you need to talk…” He held out his arms.

It won’t be to you , she thought, even as a traitorous part of her brain whispered, But what if...

“You can keep your pity,” she said aloud.

“I’m not feeling sorry for you. I honestly care.”

She cocked her head and studied him like he was a particularly puzzling piece of modern art. “This isn’t some ploy to get me into bed, is it? Because that is not happening.”

“Why do you have such a low opinion of me, Liv? I know I hurt you, but I was never dishonest with you.” He sounded sad.

That was true, and she felt about an inch tall. Maybe half an inch. A quarter, tops.

After brunch, they drove to the town square, where the Christmas activities were in full swing. The sky was overcast, and there was a nip in the air.

Nick walked on the outside, gallantly protecting her from street traffic. Or maybe it was just a power move. Always assume positive intent, she reminded herself. It was far better to be kind than suspicious.

The morning sun cast shadows from the awning across the sidewalk, protecting a thin layer of ice from melting. Her boot heel crunched the icy crust, the unexpected slickness catching her by surprise.

“Eep!” Liv exclaimed and flailed her arms to keep her balance.

Nick reached out and took her elbow to steady her. “Easy, there. You’re all right. I’ve got you.”

Liv felt her face flush. She caught a whiff of his cologne, and her stomach gave a little squeeze.

“You can hold onto me,” he said. “Just until we’re out of the shadows.”

Gratefully, she took the arm he offered.

Even through his coat, she could feel the power of his bicep.

His strength was part of his appeal, and she knew she was vulnerable to it.

Once, he had scooped her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom as if she weighed no more than a tissue.

Her throat ached as she thought about all the long, lonely nights spent without him.

Stop romanticizing the past. Next thing you know, you’ll be writing bad poetry and listening to Adele on repeat.

Yes, right. The past was over. But she was startled to realize that she was lonely. How could that be? Blessed with a loving family, good friends, and pleasant coworkers—Brandi Jo being the exception—Liv had nothing to complain about.

What was wrong with her? Why was she feeling so vulnerable? Why was she so eager to repeat past mistakes? It was like her heart had developed amnesia while her brain was screaming, “Danger!”

They reached the corner, where the sun was shining brightly, and there were no signs of ice. She let go of his arm and let out a sigh of relief.

To distract herself, she scanned their surroundings.

Even though it wasn’t quite noon, tourists packed the town square.

A hubbub of activities drew them. There were kiosks selling Christmas decorations and vendors hawking street food.

The air smelled of roasting meats, baked goods and peppermint.

The sound of “Jingle Bells” rang out from the speakers mounted on the courthouse.

On one corner of the square, the town erected a faux North Pole, where teens dressed as elves entertained families waiting in line to see Santa.

Jugglers tossed Christmas balls into the air, elves on stilts lumbered through the crowd, and street performers put on a truncated version of A Christmas Carol.

It was like someone had taken every Christmas movie filmed and condensed them into one town square.

Across the way, Kringle had created a living snow globe, building a clear plastic dome around the seasonal ice rink. Inside it, ice skaters dressed in festive Christmas clothing performed jumps, spins and flips as an avid crowd gathered around to watch.

It was a lively event, and Liv was excited to be here with Nick. Not that she’d admit it out loud. She’d sooner eat her shoes.

“I can see now why they call Kringle the Christmas Capital of Texas.” Nick chuckled. “I can’t believe I’ve never visited this town during the holidays.”

“To be honest,” Liv said, “this is my first Christmas in Kringle. William Lawrence opened this branch last January, and I transferred over.”

“You don’t miss the city?”

“Actually, no. I love the slower pace, and it’s fun living in a lakeside town. Plus, Fort Worth is only forty minutes away. It’s easy enough to visit the city when I get hungry for more sights and sounds.”

“I’ve never lived in a small town,” Nick said. “I’m not sure I’d like it.”

“I had the same doubts but haven’t regretted the move. In fact, I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Nick angled her a sideways glance. “You never cease to surprise me, Olivia Kearns. Once upon a time, I remember you telling me that you wanted to live in New York City. What happened?”

“I visited New York.” She laughed. “I quickly realized it was far too fast-paced for me.”

“You also said you wanted to live somewhere that it snowed often.”

“Yes, I used to have fantasies of white Christmases like when we lived in Chicago,” she said.

“But I’ve come to realize I’m Texan through and through.

This slushy ice mess we’ve gotten the last few days is winter enough for me.

I’m surprised you remember so much about me. It’s been five years, after all.”

“I remember everything about you,” he said in a sultry voice that matched the look in his eyes.

She felt her face heat, and she ducked her head, disconcerted to feel her pulse quicken. Why was she letting him affect her so profoundly?

“You were so sweet and anxious…”

“Anxious?” She let go of his arm as they strolled through the thickening crowd. “Jingle Bells” had given way to Bing Crosby and “White Christmas.”

“Okay, I misspoke. I remember you as shy and maybe a little inhibited.”

“If this is you trying to charm me, it’s an epic fail.”

“I meant when we first met.” He sent her a teasing grin. “You certainly loosened up afterward.”

Loosen up. Those darn words again. Did she really come across as uptight and unapproachable? No, of course not. That was just Billy Lawrence’s perception. And Boz’s and Brandi Jo’s and Nick’s...

And Amy’s. Don’t forget your sister. She thinks you’re a stick in the mud, too.

Fine. All right. Maybe she was a wee bit too structured. Perhaps she could do with a little more fun and frivolity in her life. Maybe she needed to trade in her planner for a “Carpe Diem” t-shirt.

“You know what I like most about you?” Nick asked.

“No clue.” Her sparkling wit? Her ability to overthink everything? Her talent for emotional self-sabotage?

“How grounded you are. How you kept me out of trouble. We were a good team, weren’t we? We balanced each other.”

What was he up to? He’d gotten what he wanted.

Information about Matilda Merris. He didn’t need anything else from her.

He could attend the art auction on his own and find a way to approach the baseball player’s daughter.

Why had he asked her to spend the day with him?

Was this some elaborate prank? Was she on a hidden camera show?

He held out his hand. Smiled.

Overwhelmed, she took his hand, and when he interlaced their fingers, her heart melted in her chest as old memories swept through her hard and fast.

His grip was warm and firm, and she felt a silly urge to cling to him forever. It was like holding hands with her past and her potential future all at once.

She tilted her chin and angled her gaze at him.

Nick looked down at her, his blue eyes hazy and unreadable.

She wanted him to kiss her, poised there on the street corner.

Could taste his lips on hers. He lowered his head, and her heart pounded so hard she could no longer hear the music.

All she heard was the crazy love dub of blood thundering across her eardrums like her circulatory system had suddenly decided to throw a rave.

“There’s mistletoe above us.” He pointed an index finger at the quaint lanterns adorned with holly and mistletoe.

“So there is.” She closed her eyes and waited…

He did not kiss her.

Feeling stupid, she opened her eyes and saw him studying her with the most tender expression.

“I’m not going to kiss you here on the street, for every passerby can stare at us.”

“That’s good,” she said sharply, far more sharply than she intended. “I don’t want you to kiss me.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“The pucker on your lips said differently.”

Her cheeks blistered. If embarrassment could power cities, she’d be lighting up the Eastern Seaboard right now. “I was just getting into the spirit of Christmas. Don’t read anything into it.”

His smile was smug. “Huh-uh, right.”

“Oh! You are an insufferable man. And here I was thinking that perhaps you’d changed.” Feeling ashamed, Liv turned away from him, wishing she could dissolve into the sidewalk.

“Liv,” he called after her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like a jerk. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

She swiveled and glared at him. “What did you mean?”

He held his arms open wide beseechingly, looking like a rom-com hero in the third act. “Here’s the deal, sweetheart. I puckered up, too. I want to kiss you more than I want to breathe, but I recognize it’s far too fast and far too soon, and you might never be ready to give me another chance.”