“I can tell. Which is ironic, considering you’re dressed as Santa Claus, don’t you think?”
I shrug.
“Seriously Keaton, you can’t be grumpy about Christmas. There must be something you like. What about ice skating?” She nods her head in the direction of the rink.
“I’m not the best skater. You are, though. Didn’t you win that big competition?”
“Wow, you remembered? You’re welcome to come out with me on the ice if you want some lessons.” Her gaze is steady as she peers up at me.
“Thanks, but I better get back to work. C’mon, Max.”
I don’t look at her as I squeeze past and head into the crowd. Maybe if I pretend she doesn’t exist, I can get through this without letting her find out what she does to me.
Maybe.
* * *
ChapterThree
MELODY
Three days before Christmas
I found it hard to sleep last night. The hours of serving customers and then meeting Keaton unexpectedly made me feel wired. He turned my offer of skating lessons down without a second thought. Why is he so grumpy? He’s always been a man of few words, but this felt personal, like he didn’t want to be around me at all. Like I’d done something to piss him off, but I have no idea what that could be.
Yawning, I trudge my way through the snow-covered streets from my parents’ house to the town square. I’m wearing my sister’s bright pink snow boots as mine have disappeared in the time I’ve been out of town. I’m starting to feel more like myself being back home and the waves from friendly faces I recognize add to my upbeat mood. Folks are out shoveling snow, kids are building snowmen in their front yards and every passing vehicle seems to be playing holiday songs.
The temperature has dropped even more, but I’m more prepared today, wearing my warmest coat and these over-the-top boots. I have a couple of hours before I’m due to start work, so I head to the coffee shop to get some much-needed caffeine. I have my sketchbook with me and I can work on some new ideas.
A tinkling bell announces my arrival as I step into Gingerbread, on the far side of the town square. A wave of coffee-scented warmth greets me, a welcome respite from the biting cold outside. As I scan the room for an empty table, I spot Keaton sitting by himself at the back, near the frost-tipped window. His hair is rumpled where he’s been running his hands through it and he’s leaning over a laptop, wearing a pair of black-framed glasses as he squints at the screen. On the table in front of him is a glass of water. Out of that huge Santa costume, he’s so handsome it takes my breath away. One thing hasn’t changed, though. He looks as grumpy as ever.
"You’re on my radar, Mr. Scrooge," I mutter under my breath. My grandma used to say I could charm the birds from the trees if I was determined enough. And the very fact that Keaton’s such a grouch is a challenge. It doesn’t hurt that he’s so gorgeous.
Mixing with the scent of fresh-brewed coffee is the sweet aroma of sugar cookies and cinnamon-spiced treats. Soft holiday music plays in the background as the singers croon their way through a lo-fi version ofLet it Snow. The store is filled with twinkling fairy lights that cast a warm glow on the wooden tables and plush chairs. All the festive decorations are so cheery that it gives me an idea.
Zuri, Gingerbread’s owner, gives me a big smile. “You’re back! In town to see your folks?”
“Might be longer than that. Looking for a job. Do you still do the special holiday cocoa with all the trimmings?”
“Sure do.”
“Great, I’ll take two. And some sugar cookies?”
As I wait for my order, my attention is drawn to Keaton’s dog, who’s wearing a festive holiday sweater. He sits obediently next to Keaton's table, expressive brown eyes fixed on him adoringly. The contrast between the cheerful pup and Keaton's perpetual scowl makes me smile.
"Is Max trying to get you in the holiday spirit with that sweater?" I approach his table, balancing a loaded tray, nodding at Max who looks up at me with an expectant wag of his tail.
Keaton stares back. He doesn’t say anything.
“Did you knit it yourself? It’s very cute.Lovethe color.”
The corner of his mouth twitches ever so slightly in response. It feels like a small victory that I’ve managed to crack his serious facade, however briefly.
"That’s not surprising. It’s almost as bright as those boots you’re wearing. You don’t need to remind me it’s the holidays. And no, I didn’t knit it. Max has many admirers, including Zuri." He rolls his eyes.
"I think it’s great Max is getting in the spirit. Look at this place! It's like stepping into a Hallmark movie!"
“Don't remind me," he groans, glancing around the coffee shop. “You know, the holidays aren't all sugar cookies and mistletoe."
