Rebel Without A Claus

“Quinn.”

“Oh, my God. Fine.” I huffed. “I texted Natalie to see if they had any white stuffed puppies in stock, okay? She’s held one back for him to pick up tomorrow.”

A half-grin tugged up one side of Nicholas’s lips.

“What? Stop grinning at me like that.”

“I’m just amused that you’re not the Grinch you appear to be.”

“Oh, for goodness sake. I’m not heartless. She lost her dog. I’d do that whether it was Christmas or not.” I puffed out an indignant breath and sidestepped to avoid a kid running through the square with a giant lollipop.

Honestly. It was almost as big as his head.

The square smelled as amazing as it looked. Rich mulled wine wafted over from one of the stalls, and it mixed with decadent gingerbread and cookies that had my mouth watering. Christmas decorations filled stands, everything from nutcrackers to handmade tree ornaments, and orange and cranberry and chocolate assaulted the senses as we walked past stalls selling handmade soaps and slippers and olive oils.

You could buy anything here. It was all beautiful, all tempting, and all from small businesses.

My favorites.

I eyed the German waffle stand as we reached the edge of the square. It smelled divine, and I was pretty sure my pupils were now shaped like little cartoon hearts.

I was so stopping there after this drink. I could literally taste the Nutella on those hot waffles.

Oh, my God. I was starving.

How did I not know I was hungry?

I pressed my hand to my stomach and glanced at Nicholas. Was he hungry? Did eating at the bar make this a date?

Did I believe him that this was only friends?

Hmm.

No.

Maybe.

Ugh.

I was too tired and too hungry for this.

“Are you hungry by any chance?” Nicholas asked me.

I jerked my head around. “What? No. I’m fine.”

“Really? Because you’ve stared at every single food stall we’ve passed, and you’ve walked at least six feet while ogling the waffles.”

I made a point of looking around innocently. I was so turning this back on him. “How do you know what I’ve been looking at?”

“I’ve been looking at you. Obviously.”

“Why would you do that when you could stare at the waffles? Pfft. Amateur.” I flounced off ahead of him toward the bar. Like hell was I going to stay around for his second answer—he’d outsmarted me with the first one already.

I wasn’t going to make that mistake twice.

I pushed the door open and breathed a sigh of relief when I stepped inside the warm bar. The environment was just as lively as outside but a hell of a lot warmer.

And thank God for that because my nose was about to fall off.

I pulled off my gloves and tucked them into my pockets. “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

Nicholas looked around. “The bar? It’s pretty busy.”

Good. I could get snacks up there. “There are two stools over there.” I wound through a group of people and snagged the stools before anyone else could.

It was too damn busy in this bar. I appreciated that we needed tourists, but could they not stay outside? Where the touristy stuff was? So they could leave my alcohol alone?

Nicholas shrugged off his coat and looked at me. “Want me to hang yours up?”

“With these random people in here? No, thank you. I’ll keep hold of it.”

“Good idea.” He sat down and put his folded coat over his legs instead. “What do you want to drink?”

“I can get it. Besides, you’re the one saving my ass. I should be buying you a drink.”

“Hey, if you wanna buy me a drink, you can buy me a drink.”

“I said I should be. Not that I want to.”

Nicholas fought a smile. “So pedantic.”

“I’m a woman. It’s in my blood.” I leaned forward. “Hey, Earl! What’s a local gotta do to get a glass of wine around here?”

The bar owner, Earl, was a tall, beefy man with a beer gut and thick, dark hair that almost always needed a haircut. To everyone else, he was recognizable solely by his uniform of a plaid shirt and jeans and, in the summer, a worn ballcap with a Yankees logo on. He waved at me from the other side of the bar and finished by holding up two fingers.

Wait.

That was apparently what we had to do.

Thankfully, he swiftly made an appearance, so it was more two seconds than two minutes.

“Evenin’, Quinn. The usual?”

“Please. I’m going to dehydrate at this rate.”

He chuckled. “I’ll bring you some water instead.”

“Don’t you swear at me, Earl Rickman.”

Another laugh. “Nicholas?”

Nicholas, fully amused by the exchange, ordered a beer, which Earl disappeared to get along with my wine.

Hopefully.

If he brought me water, I was going to throw it at him.

“So. How do you think I did today?”

CHAPTER NINE

I rested my elbow on the bar and propped my chin up on my hand as I looked at him. “You did all alright, I suppose.”