“That’s the fire inspector, Jim Owing. I met him yesterday.”
“Oh,” he said, deflating for just three seconds before grinning again, undeterred. Typical Wesley. “Damn, it would have been exciting to have a ninja spy stalking us.”
Somehow Wesley had upgraded his supposed spy to a ninja; that was what I loved about his imagination… no, not loved. Enjoyed.
No,notenjoyed.
Tolerated.
He squeezed my arm. “Okay then, Mr. Spoiler of Stories, I’ll leave the cookie, and the thigh bone, and I’m out of here.” He left in a flurry of noise and slamming doors.
I watched him exit onto the street and head over to the Emporium opposite our stores, chatting away to the fire inspector. Something he said made the inspector laugh so hard that he bent at the waist.
It made me smile.
Damn my crusty, pissed-off, heartbroken self. Wesley made me smile.
Chapter 3
Wesley
A committee meetingfor this year’s Parade of Lights event had the entire Haynes clan in attendance. Well, almost the full clan. All four Haynes brothers were there. Bailey was curled in his husband Kai’s lap, Kai’s arms wrapped around him as he sat cross-legged on the floor, his back to one of the sofas. The other three brothers—Callum, Duncan, and Lucas—were on their own tonight, no partners or kids in tow, leaning over the big sheet of paper that mapped out the parade route. They argued in low voices about whether Main Street had enough space for the new floats suggested by the local school, Wishing Tree High.
“If the float’s twenty-four feet long, how are we turning it at the end of Main?” Duncan asked, tapping the paper with a blunt finger.
“We shave a couple of feet off,” Lucasargued, leaning in. “Or angle the driver earlier. It’s not rocket science.”
Kai glanced up from where Bailey was nestled against him. “It’s either shorten it, or we lose the big tree centerpiece. And Bailey’s already ordered new lights.”
Bailey grinned and lifted his hand in a little wave, as if he couldn’t be blamed for being ahead of schedule.
Bailey and Kai then stayed out of it, watching with amused expressions while the remaining Haynes brothers bickered, their voices overlapping as they leaned closer to the map. One wanted extra garlands around the lead float, another insisted the reindeer should go before the sleigh, and the third argued about the placement of the new light strings. Watching three big men squabble over tree garlands and light positions was oddly adorable, and I had to bite back a grin at how seriously they took it all.
I hovered near the edges of the committee, a member but not a Haynes myself. Still, this was my second year, officially—well, unofficially—involved in planning the Parade of Lights, and they were quick to ask for my input. The parade was the Haynes family’s circus, but I’d offered space in the store as a planning area, complete with cookies, this time shaped as turkeys, even though we were still a way from Thanksgiving. They weren’t in the shape of acookedturkey, obviously, but cookies with full, feathered sugary tails. I was their self-proclaimed Super Elf of cookies and inspiration.
I waved a hand toward the tray of turkey cookies, bright with icing but made from the last of last month’s over-ordered sugar stock. Repurposing leftovers was practically my superpower, and I could only hope that the display—and the parade itself—would bring in enough new customers to cover the shortfall. December had to make up for all the lean months, or The Story Lantern’s lights might not stay on into spring.
Staring at maps and calculating float turning circles wasn’t my superpower. But what I brought to the table were ideas—wild, over-the-top, sparkly ones that sometimes worked and sometimes blew up in my face. Still, I liked to think they needed me. Or at least tolerated me because my enthusiasm filled the gaps where any attempts at spreadsheets failed.
My mind started to wander when I caught Bailey whispering something into Kai’s ear that made Kai smile so softly and sweetly. Bailey snuggled in deeper, and I wantedthat. I wanted cute and sweet, and someone to damn well hold me as though I were something precious. Someone who smelled of coffee and snow and… there I went again, thinking about Hunter. I could curl up on his lap. I was bigger than Bailey, sure, but Hunter was tall, and there’d be room, right? He could play with my hair if he wanted, and maybe laugh at my idiot jokes and?—
“Earth to Wes.” I glanced at Callum to see him staring up at me, one eyebrow arched.
“Huh?” I asked, heat creeping up my neck.
“Your opinion on the garland? Where are we hanging it—Main Street archway or saving it for the lead float?”
“Sorry, I was miles away. Can someone summarize?”
Callum rolled his eyes with theatrical exaggeration. “I’m right, they’re wrong,” he said with a wink.
“I agree with you all,” I replied, hoping to keep the peace. The brothers chuckled at that, the tension of their debate easing. The daydreaming crisis was averted, although the brothers’ gentle bickering continued.
“Okay,” Callum said, clapping his hands once to bring the meeting to order. “I want to hear more about the theme idea that you and the school are running with.”
Oh, he was talking to me.
I brightened. “Nordic Tales,” I said, already sweeping my hand with added drama through the air. “Think icy blues and silvers, deep forest greens, and every sparkle of white we can get our hands on. I’mlining the bookstore’s windows with paper cutouts of trolls and fairies, stringing fairy lights that look like frosted stars, and telling the old stories out front with a backdrop of snow-covered trees.” I gestured so enthusiastically that the plate of turkey cookies wobbled, and Callum had to steady it before disaster struck. My excitement spilled out in a rush, half-storytelling, half-sales pitch, until the brothers were smiling despite themselves. I wasn’t done. “And Hunter will make Nordic drinks—mulled spiced cider with cinnamon, hot chocolate topped with cloud-like cream, proper Scandinavian glögg with raisins and almonds, and maybe some lingonberry punch if he can get the ingredients. Imagine mugs steaming in the frosty air, the scent of spices mixing with pine garlands, people warming their hands while listening to stories under the fairy lights. It’ll be magical!”
