“But if you changed your mind about him or whatever… like, if you decided youlikedhim, but you were scared I’d tease you for it?—”
“Oh, please.” I take a sip of my piping hot coffee. “Have Ieverworried about being laughed at?”
“Well… Not particularly.”
“Exactly. So, if I secretly wanted to bang Detective James, I’d do it. Except, it wouldn’t be a secret. I’d tell you while we walked, and then we’d discuss why size matters.”
She snorts, piggish and silly and so, so good for my heart.Melanie Hamilton deserves to smile. “Nick says I shouldn’t play the comparison game anymore. He says it’s inappropriate.”
“Because he’s afraid he can’t compare?”
“Because it’s not fair to the rest of mankind, and because it’s especially not fair toyou, since I, he so proudly declares, got the best one.”
I slip on a small patch of ice, almost losing my balance—and my life, dammit—as I grab on to my best friend and threaten to take her down with me. Laughter bursts from my throat, unraveling the knot of tension I’ve carried in my belly since last night.
Since last month, really.
“Anna!” Screeching, Mel skids on the patch and braces herself with wide legs. “Don’t pull on me!”
“I burned myself!” Coffee soaks into my sleeve and travels most of the length of my forearm. “Why didn’t you save me?”
“Because I would’ve spilled my coffee too!” Snort-giggling, she sips from her completely secure, Nick-supplied thermos. Which was a far more sensible choice than my regular cup. Her dancing eyes come back to mine, glittering and beautiful. “You wanna tell me what’s going on yet?”
Oop. There’s that stomach tension again.“What?”
“It’s something…” She points a gloved finger to the tip of her nose. “Something more than just the time of the year, and it’s got you all wound up, Annaliese Maxwell. I’ve known you since we were four years old. I know when you’re in a tizzy.”
“God, you’re so full of shit!”Oh God. No, she’s not.“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I dunno…” She hums the words, narrowing her eyes and looking me up and down. “It could be work, I guess. You have a big case coming up in January. It could be Detective James…” She crinkles her nose. “Doubt it, though. He’s never rated a heavy-brow meltdown.”
“Heavy-brow?” I bring my hand up and massage the deep line marking my forehead. “Detective James rates nothing.”
“It could be my wedding. I talk about it alot. I’ve put a lot of responsibility in your lap.” And here comes theoldMel, squealing back onto the tracks. “Maybe you’re sick of hearing about it.”
“For frigg’s sake.” I straighten out from my weird, almost-fell-over stance and wrap my arm around hers. Turning us back the way we came, I snatch her coffee and declare it communal. “Ilovehearing about your wedding, dummy. You’re my best friend, which means I want to know everything.”
“But maybe it’s getting to be too much. MaybeI’mbeing too much…”
“Maybe you’re not enough,” I counter easily. “And by that, I mean you’re not loud enough. Not needy enough. Not annoying enough. It’s your wedding week and you’re so ridiculously afraid of inconveniencing me, you’ve done basically everything on your own.”
“But—”
“Brides aresupposedto be insufferable monsters, Mel! They’re supposed to screech and stomp and demand ridiculous things at even more ridiculous hours.” I drag her closer and walk hip-to-hip. “You’re perfect, Melanie Hamilton. You’re the best person I’ve ever met, and you’re marrying the best guy in existence. I’m not stressed about your wedding, I promise.”
“But you’re stressed aboutsomething.” She steals her coffee back and takes her shot. “I know Decembers are hard for you. Stupidly, I thought having a Christmas wedding would be a good way to redirect all that red and green energy and provide you with a new focus this month. Now I’m thinking all I achieved was a redirection ofmyattention, while you stew inside your house and ignore the happiest season of the year.”
Shaking my head, I glance over the top of my car and stop onmy front door, startling and skidding to a stop. I slip in the snow and balk at my guest’s smiling expression. “What the f—” I meet Nick’s playful eyes, while right beside him, Dean huddles into his jacket, but with the fabric simply pulled over his bulky frame, his arm still wrapped and his bare stomach peeking through the open zipper.
He grins the grin of the devil, his eyes alight and his lips twitching with torment.
“Oh!” Mel swings her gaze from Dean to me. To Dean. Then back to me. “Well…” She clears her throat. “I suppose that answers that.”
“W-what are you…” My stomach lurches and swirls, nerves pinging from side to side like balls inside a pinball machine. “What’s going on?”
“Looks like Anna Banana got herself a friend for the holidays.” Nick digs his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “His name is Dean.”
“Dean?” Mel unravels her arm from mine and continues ahead. “Um… Hello.”
