Pete snorts. “I’m just surprised a guy like that would settle down. Especially with—” He cuts himself off, but the damage is done.
Fletch looks murderous.
A scrappy, resourceful, protective frontier woman comes alive inside of me. “With what? A walking textbook?” I step forward, surprising myself. “Let me tell you about ‘a guy like that.’ He’s kind. He volunteers with kids. He asks thoughtful questions about my books. He sees people instead of just using them for homework help or stringing them along.” I realize I’m not just defending Fletch. I’m defending us. “So yeah, I’m exactly the kind of woman he’d choose.”
“And I’m lucky I did.”
Isaac’s eyes widen. Pete actually takes a step back.
Fletch’s expression, a mixture of pride and something deeper, makes my already racing heart take off like one of Santa’s reindeer.
Isaac and Pete practically sprint away.
Fletch leans close, warm breath tickling my cheek. “That was hot.”
“Yeah?”
“Defending my honor? Very swoon-worthy.” He’s teasing, but his voice is rough. “Though I should mention, I can defend myself.”
“I know you can, but they had that coming.”
“I should let you get back to your shopping,” Fletch says, but he doesn’t move.
“Yeah, same,” I say.
“Or you could shop together,” Nina points out.
Turning to her, I say, “I thought we were—” But I can’t reveal that we were looking for something for Fletch.
Small but mighty, she smooshes us together and says, “Have fun, kids. Don’t spend all your money on chocolate.”
“Hey, you owe me,” I call.
She trots off with the dog.
I’m about to tell Fletch that he needs to hide his key better when he asks, “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, are you doing anything for Christmas?”
“Other than writing?”
“You can’t work on Christmas.”
“Says who?”
“It’s a literal rule, Bree.”
“So bossy,” I say.
“When I was a kid, we always had a big celebration at home.”
“By the way, where is home?” I ask, not having any idea where he grew up.
“Duluth, Minnesota.”
I can picture him and his brothers eagerly waiting at the top of the stairs for permission to dive into the presents Santa left under the tree. I wilt a little because my Christmases were more reserved.
“When I was a kid, we’d each exchange a couple of gifts, have a crustless quiche from the diner for breakfast, and then everyone would do their own thing. I usually spent the day reading. It wasn’t so bad. But it was lonely.”
Fletch stops mid-stride. “For the last few years, my family has been rotating houses since we’re more scattered now and in various stages of family life. But we could …” he starts.
