Her smile softened.“May I sit for a moment?”
“Of course,” I said quickly, waving toward the small table near the window.“Can I get you something?”
“Just a scone,” she said.“If that’s not too much trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.”
I grabbed the scone and carried it over.“I grabbed an eggnog scone for you.We only have a few left.”
Mary rubbed her hands together and smiled widely.“That sounds amazing.Of course, everything you make is amazing.I’ve just been staring at the gingerbread house.”
My cheeks heated at her compliment.“I’m glad you liked it.I’m always worried when I do custom ones that people won’t like them.”
Mary shook her head and took a bite of the scone.“My god,” she sighed.“That literally tastes like Christmas.”She wiped her mouth.“Speaking of Christmas, do you have any plans?”
“Sleep,” I laughed.“As soon as we turn the lights off on the twenty-third, I am going to sleep.”
“You’re not spending the day with family?”she asked.
I shook my head.“No, I don’t have any family.”
Mary shook her head.“I don’t accept that.You’ll have to come over to my place for dinner.We’re eating at three, so you’ll have plenty of time to sleep and still be there.”
“Oh, uh, I wasn’t looking for an invite, Mary,” I insisted.Oh, lord.I was not sure how Saint would like me being at his family’s Christmas.
“I didn’t think you were, honey.I just know I won’t be able to have a good Christmas if I know you are just sitting at home all alone.”
I nodded to Salt, who was standing next to me.“I’m never alone, really.I always have Salt and Pepper with me.”
Mary reached out and patted his head.“Then they are invited, too.”
“Mary, I don’t know if Saint—”
She waved her hand at me and grabbed her scone.She stood and looked me in the eye.“You leave Saint to me.”
“But—”
She shook her head.“There are no buts when it comes to Christmas.I’ll see you at three, Belle, and if you aren’t there, you’ll have ruined my Christmas.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.“That’s a lot of pressure.”
“Just be there, and you won’t ruin Christmas.”She reached out, squeezed my arm, and flounced away with her scone in hand.
I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed.I knew that Mary had been joking, but man, if it didn’t give me a bit of anxiety.
Not only did I have a loan shark on my butt, but I also now had a hot biker in my bed with a mom who demanded I be at Christmas whether Saint liked it or not.
Whoever said the holidays weren’t stressful was full of shit.
Chapter Nine
Saint
By Monday afternoon, I knew exactly where Bill McClure was.
It wasn’t his office.No, Bill was at the bar off Route 17, the one with the peeling neon sign and the sticky floor that never quite lost the smell of spilled beer and desperation.
I parked my truck across the street and sat there for a moment with my hands resting on the steering wheel.The engine ticked as it cooled.Snow drifted down slowly and lazily, like the world wasn’t aware that some lines were about to be drawn.
