Someone I’ll have to see around town when things crash and burn in spectacular, humiliating fashion. Small towns don’t let you forget your mistakes—they laminate them and file them alphabetically in their minds (and maybe even town hall) to recall, forever..
I try to school my expression, but my cheeks still feel warm.Ridiculous.
The door chimes, and I nearly jump.
Act normal, Bristol.
Evie Alder strides in, cheeks rosy from the cold, a reusable tote slung over her shoulder. She gives me a bright grin.
“Hey, Bristol,” she calls, heading straight for the desk. “You look suspiciously happy for someone who’s been stuck behind a counter all morning.”
Great. Wonderful. Exactly what I need—someone perceptive picking up on cues my body is throwing out there that I can’t seem to control.
I clear my throat, smoothing my sweater like it will erase some invisible evidence that I was just chatting up the town’s handyman. “Do I? Huh. Must be warm in here.”
Evie raises an eyebrow. “It’s twenty-four degrees outside.”
“I’m very temperature sensitive,” I deadpan.
She laughs, dropping her tote onto the counter. “Or you just had an interesting interaction with someone who’s probably insanely attractive.”
I cough and shake my head. “What? No. Absolutely not.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She leans on the counter, studying me far too closely. “Your ears turn pink when you lie.”
“Maybe I’m cold,” I argue, even though my entire face is now probably the color of Rudolph’s nose.
Evie just grins wider. “Well, whatever—orwhoever—it is, I hope it keeps making you smile like that.”
I groan, dropping my forehead briefly to the cool countertop.
Yeah. Me too.
That’s exactly the problem.
I groan. “Please don’t do this.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely doing this,” she says, wagging her brows. “Who is he?”
“No one.” I lift my head and swipe some of the returns into a neat pile.
“Evie, don’t you have someone else to interrogate? Or, I don’t know, a cafe to get back to?”
“Oh!” She digs in her bag. “I almost forgot. I brought you a little gift.” Evie pulls out a small thermos and pastry box and sets them on the counter. “Peppermint hot chocolate and your favorite chocolate peanut butter balls.”
“Wow. Thanks. What do I owe you?”
“I would say nothing. They’re an early Christmas gift from Emmy and me.ButI’ll trade you for the details on why your faceis still bright red and you’ve got that lovey-dovey look in your eyes.”
“Evie!” Emmy hurries into the library, slightly out of breath, and scolds her sister. “Please, ignore her,” she says, turning to me. “Those are a gift. And you don’t owe Evie anything.”
Evie rolls her eyes. “Spoilsport.”
“Quit meddling. Don’t you get your fill by harassing me and Hayes?” Emmy glares at her sister.
These two are nothing if not entertaining.
Evie gasps. “I do not harass you and Hayes. I’m merely encouraging what is right in front of your face.”
