"Not at all." Jon clapped me on the shoulder. "Though I should warn you—they made plans for approximately seventeen more sleepovers before New Year's."
I thanked them and got Dash bundled into the truck. He chattered nonstop about pancakes and dragon forts the whole drive home.
My family's vehicles were already crowding my driveway when we pulled up—Mom, Dad, Shane, Dusty. Christmas Eve chaos about to begin.
But all I could think about was tonight.
The church service.
Seeing her again.
Chapter Five
Flannery
Mee-Maw's cottage smelled like butter, sugar, and cinnamon—the scent of every Christmas I could remember. I rolled out snickerdoodle dough on her worn wooden pastry board while she piped white frosting rosettes onto bell-shaped sugar cookies.
Vixen lounged on the windowsill, white fur bright against the gray afternoon light. She kept looking at me with those knowing green eyes.
Finally. Twenty-six years. And even if he never calls again, at least you know what you were missing.
Smug cat.
"You have a glow, dear," Mee-Maw said, looking up from her frosting work.
My hand slipped on the rolling pin. "What?"
"A glow." She studied me over her reading glasses. "Something's different about you today."
Warmth flooded my face. "I don't know what you mean."
"Mmm-hmm." She went back to piping delicate swirls. "You've checked your phone seventeen times in the last hour. Burned the first batch of snickerdoodles—and you never burn cookies. Keep touching your neck."
My hand jerked away from my throat—from where Shep's mouth had been this morning. And last night. And—
"Tired," I managed. "Long shift at the shop."
"Well, you should rest before church tonight." Mee-Maw picked up her frosting bag again. "That green velvet dress will be lovely on you. I'm glad you're finally wearing it."
My phone sat silent on the counter beside the flour canister. Still nothing. No texts, no calls, nothing since that awful goodbye in the parking lot six hours ago.
We don't have to make it complicated.
I'd said that. Cut him off before he could say last night had been a mistake, that the morning had been nice but he had responsibilities, a son, a real life to get back to. Maybe he'd realized that sleeping with the awkward librarian had been fun but not something he wanted to repeat. Maybe he was trying to figure out how to be polite when we inevitably crossed paths in town.
I'd made it easy for both of us.
Except now I couldn't stop wondering what he'd been about to say when I interrupted him.
"Flannery?" Mee-Maw was watching me. "Where did you go?"
"Sorry. Thinking." The dough needed my attention. "What time do we need to leave for church?"
"Service starts at seven. We should head over around six-thirty to help set up the reception." She gestured at the cooling racks covered in cookies. "These all need to come with us."
I nodded and went back to rolling, but my hands moved on autopilot while my mind spun in circles.
He hadn't texted. Hadn't called. Which meant I'd been right—it had been one night. A blizzard and proximity and two people who got caught up in the moment.
