Page 97 of Theirs for the Holidays

I shrug. “It’s hard to say. Like with Sawyer, he’s always been flirty, you know? Even when we were just catching up, he’d have all these little cute jokes where he was teasing me. He asked for pictures of me in my apron, and I sent them, and he told me I was adorable, but I didn’t know what to make of it at first.”

Isabelle has a look on her face like she can’t believe anyone would think I look adorable in an apron, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I think at one point I asked him if he was serious about thinking I looked cute, and he said he was. He said he would take me out and prove it if he were closer, and that’s when I realized maybe he was serious.”

“Okay, but the other two weren’t like that, right?”

“Right. It was definitely more subtle with Rhett. He’s always been kind of intense in a quiet way, and he basically had to tell me he was interested for me to pick up on it. He mentioned something about me visiting his cabin, and I told him I wouldn’t want to impose, and he basically said I was one of the only people he wanted there. That clued me in pretty quickly.”

The lies flow off my tongue easier than I thought they would. It helps that I talked to the guys before about what our story was, but we didn’t go into too many details, so I’m trying to keep it vague enough that it fits their personalities, without setting off Isabelle’s radar for lying.

She goes to ask another question, but the front door swings open again, letting in cold air and the sound of the guys bickering.

It sounds playful at least, mostly Rhett giving Sawyer shit for being useless on the ladder.

“I’m sorry I’m not some mountain man used to climbing trees with my bare hands and a knife between my teeth, Rhett. I managed. At least my strands weren’t crooked as hell.”

“Mine weren’t either,” Rhett replies. “You just don’t know what you’re looking at.”

The three of them spill into the kitchen, and smile at me in turn. I smile back, heart pounding because I know what comes next.

Isabelle pushes away from the fridge and comes over to greet them. She’s all warmth and brightness, leaning into them and teasing them about having to do my dirty work.

“It’s not dirty work,” Lennox says. “We wanted to make sure Violet got to have a nice Christmas this year, and that means decorations. She loves Christmas, so it was the least we could do.”

“Yeah,” Sawyer adds. “Since she usually doesn’t have any help with all the stuff she has going on. We were happy to do it.”

That is definitely pointed, and I hide a smile behind going to put the scones in the oven.

“Sorry,” I tell them. “I got distracted by Isabelle wanting to chat. They’ll only need like twenty minutes or so.”

“No big deal,” Rhett says. “We’re happy to wait.”

“While we’re all waiting,” Isabelle breaks in. “Vi and I were just chatting about how you all met.”

Lennox gives her a confused look. “You know how we met. We’re all from Sweetwater Lake too.”

She looks a bit nonplussed for a moment, then plasters her smile back on. “I know, but I mean howthisall happened.” She waves her hand between the four of us. “We were all so surprised that all three of you would want to date her.”

“Why?” Sawyer asks.

“Why what?”

“Why were you all so surprised?”

Isabelle blinks at him, like she doesn’t understand the question, and he just looks back at her, waiting for her answer.

“It just… seems out of character for Violet,” she finally says. “So I was wondering how it all came about. Like, which one of you went for her first?”

“I did,” Sawyer replies smoothly. He glances at me, and I give him a subtle nod. “Not that she knew I was trying to hit on her for most of the time we were talking. But I’m like that, I guess. I see a beautiful woman and the flirting comes out. I meant it with Violet though, and she was so flustered once she realized I wasn’t calling her little apron cute because I had some kind of apron fetish or something.”

“It’s a cute apron!” I chime in. “And I had no idea why you would be flirting with me.”

“Because I have eyes, Peaches. And when I want something, I go for it.”

“After not talking for years?” Isabelle asks.

Sawyer shrugs. “It’s not like we were strangers. We just picked up where we left off for the most part. Things have changed, but notthatmuch, so it wasn’t hard.”