“You wish,” I say as we head to his truck, and I pile myself inside.
The engine roars to life, and we head out toward the tree lot. It’s nice like this with Graham, a spate of silence while watching the evergreens painted with snow as they melt by in a blur. I’ve always secretly felt that Gingerbread is one of the most romantic settings in the world. I might be a great matchmaker, but I’ve always known Gingerbread has played a big role in each and every love story that’s ever unfolded here. It’s simply magical here. Gingerbread spells love out with the crisp clean air, the powdered sugar covered trees, the beauty of its sparkling blue lake.
The tree lot is just around the bend, and my insides twist at the thought of what little help I’ve been to my brother.
“A part of me dreads seeing Nick.” I glance to Graham as the streetlights wash him an ethereal blue. Even in this strange light, Graham is unnaturally gorgeous. It’s a wonder there’s not an entire mob of Gingerbread women beating down his door. But I guess if Sabrina is his official plus one, she’s put the word out on the street that he’s forever off-limits. Once Sabrina decides she wants something, either fate or her daddy makes sure she gets it. I’m beginning to think they’re one in the same.
“Why’s that? You owe him money?” He gives a quick wink my way.
“No, it’s nothing like that. I just feel like I’m slacking off as far as putting in time at the lot this year. I’m usually a regular, and this year I’m more of a ghost of Christmas past.” And with all the responsibility at the bakery, I’ll most likely never be a regular at the tree lot again.
“Ghost of Christmas past. Clever. I see what you did there.” He takes in a breath, and I can’t help but note the fact his chest looks expansively enormous. Graham must live at the gym back home. I don’t remember him being so stunningly fit. It’s as if he turned into this beefcake of a man while I wasn’t looking. His body has always been fit and lean, but nothing like this. Graham Holiday has never played fair. “But I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re busy. You’ve got a life of your own. We’ve got a kid now for Pete’s sake.” He glances my way and blesses me with that killer grin for a moment.
“Yeah, a kid that Nick is watching most of the time.” It’s as if I’m determined to make myself feel bad today. It’s true, though. I miss Noel fiercely while I’m doing time at the bakery. A part of me wants to ask Graham to bring her down a couple times a day just so I can get a quick squeeze in, but another, wiser part of me knows that too much Graham Holiday wouldn’t be a good thing. It’s bad enough I’m spending far too much time with him as it is. The more time I spend with him, the more I dislike Sabrina.
“Don’t feel bad over that. Nick has practically begged me to leave Noel with him for a few hours each day, if not longer. She’s a hit with the kids, the reindeer have adopted her as one of their own, and she sells more trees than all the employees combined. I’m about to start charging him. So if he gives you a hard time, remind him that you’re doing him a favor.”
A tiny laugh brews in my chest as we pull into the lot. “I will. Don’t tell Savanah, but I think Noel is vying for the role of favorite niece as far as my brother goes.”
We share a quick laugh as we head out into the bitter cold. The sun—or more to the point, the idea of the sun—just set, and the sky is that strange violet shade of gray that I love so much on a cold winter’s night. It always feels magical to look up to see a purple velvet sky, and for some reason, tonight’s sky, peppered with its crushed diamond stars, looks far more magical than any of the others.
“Wow,” I gasp as I stare straight up. “Now that’s a beautiful sight.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” he whispers it low and husky, and when I glance down, I find it’s me Graham is staring at. My cheeks heat far hotter than any of those stars, and I do the only thing I can think of—walk right past him.
The lot is lush with trees and brimming with people milling around with hot cocoa and cookies as they inspect each tree as a prospect to decorate their home with. We spot Nick near the cash register, and I bravely head straight for him.
Nick glances up just as he closes out an order and steps over with that affable smile he’s famous for. My favorite attribute of my brother’s personality has always been his easygoing attitude, but my guilt still has me standing on edge.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t been here to help with the lot!” I blurt as if the confession were necessary, and judging by how light I suddenly feel, it’s apparent it was. “I feel terrible knowing you needed me, and I couldn’t be here. Please don’t be angry.” I lunge at my brother with a hug and note the fact he holds the scent of a very ripe evergreen. He hugs me right back, and I pull away to assess the damage, but he doesn’t look upset in the least.
“Why would I be angry? Holly and Tom just brought Savanah by and picked out a tree. She told me about all those pies you baked this week. And then you donated them to the homeless shelter? Are you gunning for citizen of the year? Because I’m up for that, too, you know.” He offers a mock sock to my arm and laughs. “Don’t sweat a thing, sis. I know you’re pulling out your hair this time of year at the bakery. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”
“Great.” Graham rolls back on his heels, a smug smile cresting his lips. “She needs a tree. Tonight’s the night it’s getting done.”
Nick glances at his old friend up and down for a moment. “Make sure the tree is the only thing that’s getting done. What are the two of you thinking, sharing a dog?” He casts a look my way that suggests I should know better. For as much as Holly would like to see Graham and me together, I’m pretty sure my brother would love for us to be twelve states apart at any given time. And I happen to share his sentiment. My insides cinch at the thought, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why. “One of you is going to be on the losing end of that deal.” He gives Nick a light shove to the chest. “And it better not be my sister.”
“It will be.” Graham doesn’t miss a beat with those dimples of his still digging in deep. “Come on, Sprig.” He waves me over as we head to the forest of trees just behind the tent. “Let’s make it a big one. It’s on him!”
Nick ticks his head for me to follow, and I do.
“Hey—where’s Noel?” I ask, struggling to keep up with them.
“I’ve got the guys in charge of the reindeer keeping an eye on her. She’ll be fine.” Nick nods to the bevy of evergreens in our way. “Get a good one. Last time I’m floating you a freebie.”
“Ha! You wish!” A laugh bounces in my chest, and I huff and puff my way into the powdery night and find Graham out by the fifteen footers. “Hey—nitwit! Some of us don’t have a vaulted ceiling!” I cry with glee as I scoop up a handful of snow and pelt him with it.
“Who are you calling a nitwit?” He pelts a snow bomb my way, and it splatters over my shoulder. A fireball of laughter erupts from my throat, and suddenly I feel sixteen again, doing exactly this with exactly him. Graham and I have had more than our fair share of snowball fights growing up. Long after everyone else gave up, the two of us would carry on for hours. It was as exhausting as it was exhilarating.
“I’m only repeating what I heard your mother say about you.” I scoop up a pile of snow, and before I can form a proper sphere, he has an entire arsenal of snow globes ready to detonate freely over my person. “Don’t you dare!” I run screaming and laughing into the woods where the lights from the tree lot fade to shadows and that velvet night sky seems to stretch down and kiss the snowy ground.
Graham pelts me over the back, and I belt out a shrieking laugh that curls up into the heavens. I head for a pile of snow just behind the lot and throw my hands in the air, exhausted. It’s quickly becoming clear I’m not sixteen anymore. This body is ready to surrender defeat, and I haven’t even pegged him properly in the face.
“I give! Uncle!” I shout, collapsing in the fluffy white mass before turning over and flailing my limbs in and out in an attempt to make a snow angel.
Graham falls next to me and pulls me onto his lap before shoving what amounts to a snow pie right in my face.
“ARRGGHH!” I let out a cry that goes on for days. “Do you always have to have the last word? Lastmisdeed?” I ask as I do my best to wipe myself clean before my eyelids freeze shut. That was a classic Graham Holiday move, and I should have seen it coming the second he pulled me over. What did I think he was going to do? Cradle me with romantic intentions? I’m pretty sure he’s saving all the romantic moves for Sabrina, and my blood begins to boil—over the pie in the face, not Sabrina. I’m not angry over the fact he wants to cuddle with Sabrina, am I?
