Page 35 of The Holiday Clause

“Exactly.”

“Perhaps.” It was their turn in line and she waited as Logan ordered two hot ciders.

“Here we go a’ wassailing. Cheers.”

He handed her a cup, and the nutmeg-spiced steam warmed her face.

Sticking by her side, Logan led them down the main drag. “So, what do you say? Candles. Blankets. Fire. Socks are mandatory, of course. And I’ll insist the phone goes off.”

The boys always gave her grief about her phone, but she liked to keep it on at all times in case Bodhi needed something—not that calls ever went through in their part of town.

“I don’t know.”

“Please.” He pouted. “I have two new puzzles for approval—a nature scene and one full of cuddly woodland creatures.”

She shook her head, grinning. “You know my weak spot for puzzles.”

“Yassssss!”he hissed victoriously like an evil mastermind and sipped his cider.

“Fine. After I take Bodhi home, I’ll meet you at your place in an hour.”

“I’ll have the movie cued up and the good fuzzy socks waiting.”

By the time she dropped her dad off and got to Logan’s it was almost ten. She’d regret staying up late tomorrow, but old Christmas movies were her weakness.

She walked in without knocking and slipped off her shoes. “Logan?”

“In here.” He appeared with a bowl of popcorn, already in his pajama pants and hoodie. “Classic holiday movie or heartwarming drama?”

“Oooh, tough choice.” She debated for a moment. “The classic.”

“Really? I was almost positive you’d pick the drama.”

“It’s the first movie of the season, and not even December yet. We don’t want to peak too soon.”

“Gotcha.” He cued upWhite Christmasas Wren made herself comfortable under a blanket on the couch. Logan was a cuddler, so she didn’t find it strange when he sat beside her and snuggled close.

She nibbled on popcorn as the opening scene unfolded. Later, when the female leads performed their musical number, Wren smiled. “We should choreograph this for our next town fundraiser.”

“Only if I get to hold a big blue feather fan like that.”

“Obviously.”

Within minutes, Wren was utterly charmed. “Bing was the original golden retriever.”

“No comment.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “Fine, who do you find more attractive, the blonde or the brunette?”

“Hands down, the brunette.”

“Because she’s the curvier one?”

“No, because the blonde looks like she could mess a man up. I don’t trust her.”

Wren took the bowl of popcorn back and giggled. “Can you imagine someone just being like, ‘Hey, let’s go to Vermont,’ and you actually go?”

“We could go right now. It would probably be more entertaining than this movie.”