Page 26 of The Christmas Arrangement
He squeezes my hand and cranes his neck to take in the tree. I watch my family’s faces light up with joy and pride at the magic that is a Mistletoe Mountain Christmas.
After a moment, he turns his attention to me. “Now what?” he asks, his breath hot on my neck.
“Now we have a beer.”
My dad and Noelle beg off to head back to the inn to tend to their guests. But the rest of us follow the flow of the people across the square and into the heated beer tent. The tables are packed in close together and filling up fast. Holly, who ran cross-country and track, sprints across the tent and scores an eight-top. She stands on her toes and waves to her best friend, Delphina, and Delph’s boyfriend, Titus, who maneuver through the crowd to join us. They sweep up Quinn along the way.
After shouted introductions, Titus and Jack head to the bar to get a round of drinks while my sisters and our friends join the interminable line for the ladies’ room. Dash and I are alone at the table, our heads close together so we can hear each other over the pulse of the DJ’s music and the noisy crowd. I lift my chin when I feel someone watching me. Or more accurately, lots of people watching me.
A cluster of my friends and neighbors hover near our table. They elbow one another, whisper behind their hands, and smile at us—at me, actually—like proud parents watching their toddler take her first steps. If it weren’t so wholesome and heartwarming, it would be insulting.
Dash notices, too. He takes my hand to his lips and kisses my palm.
“I think they’re more interested in you than in me,” he smirks. “I didn’t know you were a local celebrity.”
“Trust me, I’m not. This is small-town life. Everyone knows everyone, and people get heavily invested in anything even remotely interesting. And the two of us as a couple is the hottest gossip since Holly found her ex in the closet with their boss at the DA’s Christmas in July office party.”
He leans even closer, stares into my eyes, and smolders. There’s no other way to describe the intensity of his gaze. I’m melting under the heat of it—until I hear the photographers lurking at the edge of the dance floor snapping pictures and remember that this look is for them, not for me.
“Did you just say Christmas in July party?” He asks the question in a normal, non-smoldering voice despite the fact that his eyes are still locked on mine.
I attempt to answer in a similarly casual tone. My voice wavers only a tiny bit when I say, “I did. It’s one of my favorite traditions. This month is so busy for everyone living here—with all the visitors who come for the festivities—so we do a second celebration in the summer. What’s your favorite holiday tradition?”
He tents his eyebrows and the smolder fades. He opens his mouth to answer but before he gets a word out, Jack and Titus return to the table, both carrying two pint glasses in each hand.
Dash jumps up and relieves them of some of the beers while I place cardboard coasters in front of each seat around the table.
Farah Aboud, home from college for Thanksgiving break, seizes the opportunity to ask Dash for an autograph. He not only signs a coaster for her, he offers to pose for a photo with her. I snap the shot with her phone and she floats away, grinning, as my sisters and Delphina return from the ladies room.
“Did you get lost?” I crack.
“The line was out of control. Merry wanted to use the men’s room instead of waiting, but I convinced Marley to open her office up for us,” Holly responds to my joke as if it’s a legitimate question.
I eye her for a moment. She’s been … off … tonight. I thought she was acting spacey at the cottage, too. Maybe it’s jet leg. Although Florida to Vermont isn’t exactly a long-haul flight.
She pushes her beer away from her, and Jack leans over and whispers something I can’t hear in her ear.
“You’re sure?” She whispers back.
He nods, and she picks up her glass.
“Are you okay?” I ask her in a low voice.
She lowers her beer from her mouth, leaving a foam mustache. “Of course. Why?”
“You just seem weird.”
She pulls a face. “She’s probably tired,” Jack interjects. “We had a whirlwind trip and a long day today.”
Merry and I exchange a look, waiting for Holly to tell her boyfriend she can speak for herself. Instead, she rests her head on his shoulder and says, “That’s probably it.”
I blink at this uncharacteristic softness but forget all about my older sister when Dash runs his hand up my arm and purr-growls, “Wanna dance?”
I take a long drink of my frosty Frosty’s ale and then wipe my mouth. We have a job to do.
I hold out my hand. “I’d love to.”
Chapter 12