Page 36 of Moody's Grumpy Holiday

Huh.

“I know. Good riddance. She’s obviously moved on and so have you, which is wonderful, but you should be with your family at Christmas, honey. And?—”

“Mom, I’m not coming home for Christmas.”

She sighed heavily on the line. “I know I should respect your wishes, but I think you’re being stubborn, and I hate to think of you being alone on a major holiday.”

“I won’t be alone,” I heard myself say.

Not my brightest move. My mother’s gleeful shriek nearly detonated my eardrum.

“Oh, my gosh, that’s wonderful! I had a sneaky suspicion this move had something to do with a new girl. Or guy. Tell me everything.”

Shit.

I winced. I wasn’t exactly lying. I had met someone. But Moody and I were friends who’d fooled around a few times. I liked him and I was pretty sure the feeling was mutual, but we weren’t “seeing each other.” We were just…casually intimate?

No, that wouldn’t fly.

“There’s nothing to tell. I met some new friends, and…don’t worry about me being alone. I’ll be fine.”

“You’d be better than fine at home,” Mom grunted. “I’ll leave it for now, but think about it. You have the ticket if you change your mind.”

I highly doubted that would happen, but I didn’t want to argue, so I switched to general holiday topics, which of course led me to Christmas Town. I described the holiday-themed street names and the stores peddling ornaments, snow globes, and everything in between.

But I didn’t tell her about Moody’s Marvelous Bah Humbug Bookstore or its crabby owner. That was a curious oversight on my part. My mom loved bookshops. Moody’s humbug attitude would have made her chuckle. And that might have been enough to make her forget about wanting me home.

I didn’t have to mention that I had a major crush on Moody. I could downplay our friendship and never mention his big brown eyes or the way his nose twitched when he was trying not to laugh and the shake of his shoulders when he lost the battle.

Just thinking about Moody made me smile, but I wasn’t ready to share him yet and invite unwanted speculation. For now, it was enough to be happy.

And you know, I forgot my mom’s news about Kylie for a full twenty-four hours. I braced myself for a wave of anger or sadness, but I still felt absolutely nothing at all. I’d call that a win.

11

MOODY

“That tree is too short. That one is too skinny. That one has a bald spot.”

Hudson put his hands on his hips and pivoted in the middle of the Christmas tree lot like a sheriff facing an outlaw, serious as heck and prepared to do battle if necessary. Possibly with me, but let’s remember, I came with the warning label, “No good until January.” He should have known this wouldn’t go well.

He tipped his hat and pointed at a medium-sized Noble fir leaning against a post. “How about that one?”

I trudged over to the perfectly decent tree and looked for faults. It was a nice height, full and lush, and the needles smelled gorgeous. There had to be something annoying about it. Anything at all.

But gosh, it was…perfect. It reminded me of the trees Dad and I used to pick out at the lot around the corner from our house the day after Thanksgiving. It reminded me of cool wind, snowflakes on my father’s beard, and mugs of hot chocolate filled with mini marshmallows.

“I don’t hate it,” was the best I could do.

Hudson set a meaty hand on my shoulder and snickered. “Try again.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“If you don’t hate something, you might actually…” He wiggled his fingers as if hoping to conjure a spell. “What’s that word again?”

“Not completely dislike it?” I offered, batting my lashes.

He crossed his arms, his lips quirking in amusement. “Do you need a thesaurus?”