Christmas at Evergreen Inn (Jewell Cove 4)

“Me,” he confirmed. “I’ll be like your Christmas angel. Or Santa. Or something.”

“More like the Ghost of Christmas Annoying,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “Oh my God. She cracked a Christmas joke.” And he was gratified when her lips twitched just the slightest bit. “Come on, Lainey. What else are you doing today? I’m off shift until tomorrow, and you don’t have any guests, and we can spend the day together.”

She hesitated. That was a good sign.

“I’m just going to be sitting home alone on my day off anyway,” he said, shrugging. “Why shouldn’t we enjoy the day?”

“No strings?”

He swallowed thickly. Raised his right hand. “No strings,” he affirmed. There wouldn’t be. He didn’t expect anything from her in return. That wasn’t how he operated. Then again, no strings simply meant he didn’t expect anything. If something were to happen, he’d be more than happy to go along with it. “We can call it spending the day with a friend,” he suggested.

When she didn’t answer right away, he sensed she was on the verge of saying no. “Lainey,” he said quietly, “it’s December twenty-third. I work most of the holiday. Don’t make me spend today by myself.”

She let out a small laugh, her eyes warming. “Todd, you could spend the day with any number of people.”

“But I want to share it with you,” he replied, holding her gaze.

The moment spun out.

“I don’t have any presents to buy or anything,” she said, turning away. “I already took my presents over to my parents’ place.”

“Then treat yourself.” He stepped toward her and put his hand on her arm. “We can go to Treasures and you can see Jess and pick up some things for the inn. Or to Bubbles for some pampering bath products. The bookstore is bound to have deals … and we’ll go to lunch somewhere.” He squeezed her forearm gently. “You probably didn’t even go to the Evergreen Festival, did you? Or the Christmas tree lighting? The tree in the square is really something this year.”

She shook her head. “I had a house full of guests.”

He slid his hand down her arm and linked his fingers with hers. “Spend the day with me. If we get halfway through and you want to come home, I’ll bring you. Just give it a chance.”

Her gaze met his, and the air between them seemed suddenly heavy and charged. The attraction was still there, pulsing beneath what neither of them was saying. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her and right now had the overwhelming urge to kiss her, to pick up where they’d left off the other night. But he figured that would scare her off, so he tamped down the need that had flared up and focused on the initial agenda.

“Shortbread,” he whispered. “Main Street Bakery’s chocolate shortbread. If that doesn’t convince you, it’s a lost cause.”

She smiled at him. “Well played, Ricker. Well played. All right, you win. I’ll put on a jacket and we’ll go into town and do something holiday-ish. But only because the alternative is cleaning and I’ve done enough of that this week to last a month.”

He’d won. As Lainey went to retrieve her jacket and boots, Todd felt … excited. There was no other way to describe the light, happy sensation coursing through him. He watched her tuck her hair beneath a slouchy sort of hat and considered. Maybe he’d been looking for someone like Lainey for a long time. Kind, funny, and steady. A woman sure of herself and her abilities. He admired that sort of confidence, and as she shoved her wallet into a canvas bag, he swallowed tightly.

This wasn’t like other dates or girls. This was different because it was grown-up. They were grown-up.

It was scary as hell.

* * *

Lainey tucked her hands into thick knitted mittens and tried to ignore the delicious butterflies in her stomach. They’d been dancing around in there ever since she’d opened the door and found Todd on the step holding that poinsettia.

She’d done so well avoiding the holiday. She really wasn’t in the mood for all the hoopla, but she’d discovered something else once her guests were gone.

The quiet gave her too much time to think. But the alternative was being inundated with Christmas messages everywhere she turned. The radio played carols and the television aired holiday specials. Even the regular programming was punctuated with ads for the latest toys, long-distance connections, and adorable puppies with big bows under the tree on Christmas morning. But shutting off all media left her sitting in the silence, replaying last year’s … well, the only way she could describe it was a total shit-show.

Todd was a welcome distraction. Not that she’d tell him that. And the idea of browsing around town and having some hot chocolate and shortbread was a decent alternative to wallowing in regret.

“I’m ready.” She grinned up at him and ignored the excited thump of her heart. “Let’s go.”

They left his truck at the inn and walked down the hill to Main Street. The wind off the harbor was brisk and raw, but to Lainey it was invigorating. Todd’s cheeks were ruddy with cold, and she caught a glimpse of frost on the tips of his lashes where his eyes had watered. It was strangely attractive, but then he was extraordinarily good looking. It used to be he knew it and used it. That cockiness had tempered over the years, mellowing into quiet confidence.

Okay, maybe this had been a mistake. She was being downright silly over him now and they’d agreed today was about being Just Friends.

They hit the bakery first, as promised, and Todd purchased a dozen chocolate shortbread bites. Then they stopped for two hot chocolates to go and sat on a bench on the waterfront, cradling paper cups in their hands, sipping and munching. Neither said much; it was a strange and nice thing that they could sit together in silence and be comfortable. Until they reached for a cookie from the bag at the same time, and their fingers met. Then their gazes did, too, and Lainey felt a blush creep up her cheeks.