Page 9 of A Perfect Christmas Romance (Kringle, Texas #8)

On the street outside Liv’s bungalow, Nick stood in the dark, inhaling the cold night air as if it might somehow defuse the emotional time bomb ticking in his chest.

What cosmic practical joke made him think he could orbit around Liv’s sun without getting sucked into her gravitational pull? She still attracted him like a moth to the world’s most beguiling, terrifying flame.

Boundaries, he reminded himself, were important, and Liv’s body language had been about as welcoming as a “Beware of Dog” sign. If anything, she’d looked ready to deploy an invisible force field at any moment.

The hairs on his arms stood at attention, and it wasn’t just from the cold. He wanted her. Wanted to be with her. Wanted to see that smile that could power a small city and those brown eyes that made him feel like he was leaping into the world’s most beautiful abyss every single day of his life.

Whoa there, Casanova!

Where had that come from? His brain felt hijacked.

They’d broken up five years ago for one noticeably big reason. His career—the same career that still had him pinballing around the globe like a hyperactive tourist on an energy drink binge. The obstacle between them was still there, as immovable as ever.

But here he was, desperately trying to solve an equation with too many variables, hoping to find a way they could be together while he still chased his dreams across time zones.

What was he thinking? Liv was a planner extraordinaire, and had her entire life mapped out in a series of spreadsheets. He, on the other hand, treated commitment like an allergy.

Still, he couldn’t evict her from his thoughts. By the time he reached Dallas, he realized he didn’t remember a single second of the ninety-minute drive. For all he knew, aliens abducted him and dropped him off at his front door.

Liv Kearns, it seemed, was a more significant threat to his safety than any story he’d ever chased. If he had an ounce of self-preservation, he’d never go near her again. The interview with Matilda Merris be darned.

Besides, he didn’t like this new role he was playing, “Guy Who Uses Nice People for Personal Gain.” It was about as appealing as gas station sushi. It was selfish, and he didn’t want to compromise Livvie in any way.

Livvie.

The nickname sucker-punched him right in the feels, unleashing a tidal wave of emotions he thought he locked away in the “Do Not Open” vault of his heart. No. He couldn’t take advantage of her sweet nature. He wouldn’t.

Telling himself he’d find another way to get the interview, Nick collapsed into bed. But his subconscious had other plans, treating him to an all-night R-rated film festival starring none other than Olivia Kearns.

* * *

The following day, Liv pulled a soft, burgundy blouse from the back of her closet and held it up to the light.

It wasn’t the kind of thing she usually wore to work—too casual, a little too low-cut. But Boz’s voice echoed in her head, sharp and relentless. You need to loosen up, Kearns.

She sighed and held the blouse against her body. Maybe she should wear it, just to prove she was trying. She brushed her fingers over the silky fabric.

This time, Nick’s voice floated up from the night before. Instead of trying to turn yourself into a pretzel for your new boss, how about you take a stand?

Torn, Liv hesitated, then shook her head, and hung up the blouse. Boz could deal with her turtle-neck sweater.

She grabbed her cream-colored standby and pulled the jumper over her head. She wasn’t going to play dress-up to keep anyone happy—not her boss, not Nick, not anyone.

Ack! Nick. Why was her mind stuck on him?

Her phone buzzed. She picked it up, expecting a calendar reminder—but instead, Nick’s name flashed across the screen.

A text.

Had a great time last night.

Her heart gave an annoying little flutter...darn it. It was just a text. Simple. Harmless.

I’ve missed your laugh.

She sucked in a breath. Of course, he’d say something like that. Typical of him—easy, smooth, and just dangerous enough to make her heart free fall.

I noticed you didn’t have a Christmas tree.

Liv’s smile faded. She hadn’t planned on putting one up. What would’ve been the point? Her parents’ divorce news had hollowed out the holiday. Putting up a tree felt like pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t.

No tree. Not this year.

A minute passed. Nothing. She stepped into a wool plaid pleat skirt and zipped it up.

The phone dinged.

Why not?

Her thumb hovered over the keyboard. Then she tapped out a quick reply.

Not really in the mood.

Another pause.

I get that. Divorce stinks.

Liv swallowed hard. Of course, he’d get it. His parents had been going through one when they’d met. Somehow, Nick always understood the things she didn’t say.

But maybe that’s why you need a tree.

Huh?

Just because your parents are miserable doesn’t mean you have to be. You can still enjoy yourself.

She bit down on her bottom lip. She hadn’t thought of it like that—about the choice to enjoy the holiday for herself.

It’s just a tree, Nick. It won’t change anything one way or another.

No, but it’ll be all yours. That’s the whole point.

Her throat tightened. A small choice. A step toward something just for her.

C’mon. It’ll be fun. We’ll grab a tree string and some lights. If it’s a disaster, I’ll take the blame.

Liv stared at the screen, a reluctant smile tugging at her mouth. He wasn’t going to let this go.

Fine. But only if I don’t have to sing Christmas carols.

Nobody wants that, trust me.

Hey!

I can’t sing either. No shade.

When?

This evening after I get off work?

Seven-thirty?

It’s a date.

Liv turned off her phone and stuck it in her pocket, feeling conflicted on so many levels. Was Nick Matheson back in her life?

More importantly, did she want him to be? Was it because she was in the dumps about her parents’ divorce and her bumpy road at work, or was there more beneath the surface?

There was only one way to find out…

* * *

That evening, Liv stood in the middle of the Christmas tree lot beside Nick.

The scent of sap and earth filling her nostrils, and mingling with the winter air coming off Kringle Lake in a way that should have been invigorating but only reminded her how out of sync she was with the whole holiday spirit.

Nick’s eyes sparked beneath the twinkling lights strung overhead, reminding Liv of late nights in college when he’d turn to her with that same look and say something wacky like, “Hey, want to break into the stadium and see if we can kick a field goal?”

“Are we ready to hunt down the perfect tree?” Nick rubbed his palms together with infectious glee.

Liv tugged her coat tighter, trying to smother the warmth blooming in her chest at his use of we . This wasn’t a couples’ activity. It was a pity errand, a misguided attempt to spruce up her house with Christmas cheer.

“Let’s just pick one and go.” She sidestepped a mud puddle.

They wove through the rows of trees. Nick paused to inspect each one like a coach assessing potential draft picks.

Liv trailed behind. How had she gotten roped into this? A tree wouldn’t magically fix anything. It wouldn’t erase her parents’ divorce or put her on firmer footing at work.

“How about this bad boy?” Nick gestured at a spruce so tall it looked like it was trying to high-five the moon which hung like a yellow smile in the sky above them.

Liv quirked an eyebrow. “Unless you’re secretly Dr. Who and have a TARDIS hidden in your pocket, I don’t think that’s fitting in my house.”

Nick laughed as if she’d said the most hilarious thing he’d ever heard. Liv hated how much she’d missed that sound.

“Fair point,” he said. “Though I bet with some creative problem-solving and maybe a chainsaw...”

“Right, because nothing says Christmas spirit like deforestation.” She shook her head, laughing along with him. “Next.”

They pressed on, weaving past trees of all shapes and sizes. A nearby family bickered over what size tree to buy. The parents flailed their arms at the pines, while their kids used a stalwart fur for an impromptu game of Ring-Around-the-Rosie.

Despite herself, Liv grinned. Nick had a knack of making even the most mundane tasks fun and adventuresome.

“Look.” Nick pointed with one hand and grabbed Liv’s with the other.

She hitched a soft gasp at the sudden contact, her hand tingling against his.

He tugged her toward a pine that looked like it lost a fight with a weed whacker. “This one’s got personality.”

She pulled away and busied herself examining the sad excuse for a tree. It was a mess of zigzagging branches and bald spots, looking more like a half-plucked chicken than a Christmas tree.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It looks like it took a wrong turn at Albuquerque and ended up in a tornado,” Liv said, but she couldn’t quite keep the fondness out of her voice. The tree looked oddly endearing.

“Exactly! It’s scrappy.” Nick raked a hand through his hair in that unfairly attractive way of his. A few pine needles had found their way into his dark, curly strands, and Liv had to restrain herself from reaching out to brush them away.

He added, “like us.”

Those two words settled between them, heavy with implications she wasn’t quite ready to unpack. Liv felt the mortar of her carefully constructed walls start to crumble, letting in a draft of memories she’d tried hard to weatherproof against.

Ahh memories. Sundays spent tangled in Nick’s sheets, the scent of coffee drifting in from the kitchen.

Study sessions derailed by spontaneous living room concerts, Nick playing air guitar on a broom while Liv belted off key lyrics into a hairbrush.

The night it all imploded, words sharper than glass and a closing door that felt like the period at the end of their love story.

Liv shook her head, shoving the mind pictures back into their box. That was then. This was now.

And now was... a minefield.

“Let’s keep looking.” She moved past Nick and the tree that hit a little too close to home.