By the end of that week, hundreds of locals and visitors had put their artistic talents to the test. Nobody got lost in a snow drift, nobody got injured falling out of a tree, and the town was even more glittering and colorful than it usually was at Christmas.
It was…reallynice.
And Abigail still hadn’t admitted to Jasper that she might be the reason his friends had taken his request to help with Christmas and turned it into taking over Christmas.
Because every time they almost had a moment to themselves, Jasper turned it into a new Christmas plan.
Partway through the tree decorating week, Jasper gathered all their friends together one evening after work and announced a Christmas baking contest.
Acomplicatedbaking contest.
There were rules. There were sub-rules. There was double-blind taste testing and double-blind judging and double-blind… ingredients?
Abigail held her breath and did some quick mental arithmetic. Looking around the room, it was clear that nobody else was clear on what the rules were, either. Even if Jasper only ran the contest instead of taking part in it as well—and with all the double-blind everything, she got the strong impression that he definitely wanted to compete, as fairly as possible—it would be a huge time investment.
Christmas was aweekaway.
She bit her lip and darted a look at her friends. Meaghan caught her eye and nodded. Operation Help Jasper Take A Break / Help Abigail Get Some was in imminent danger.
Before either of them could say anything, though, Olly interrupted.
“I have a better idea,” she said. “I’lldo all the baking, andyouall have to eat it and guess what the secret ingredient is.”
Abigail was about to object—yes, her friends had offered to help her, but that didn’t mean giving up all of their own free time as well—but when she saw how Olly was practically glowing with excitement, she stopped.
Her stomach twisted.
Had she gotten this all wrong?
Her friends were doing more than just help her. They were having fun. Theyenjoyedall the Christmas craziness.
So, what was wrong with her, that she couldn’t throw herself into the festivities with them?
She stole a glance at Jasper. He was his usual upbeat self—but there was something distant in his gaze. As though he was already thinking of a replacement for his baking competition idea.
And the bond in her chest pinched unhappily.
As Christmas crept closer, Abigail’s worries grew. The scheme wasn’t helping. Jasper wasn’t relaxing as more things were taken (well, stolen and sneaked) off his plate. Instead, he was findingmorethings to do!
Worst of all, he was his usual cheerful, festive self, bouncing back from every roadblock and avoiding her schemes faster than she could create them—and all the while, the mate bond pinched and ached with a strong sense ofsomething wrong.
Only one thing was for sure.
By the time they got to bed each night, they were so Christmassed-out there was no time or energy for anything else.
She had not been getting any.
She had been gettinglessthan usual.
Was the universe punishing her for trying to take Christmas away from Jasper?
“Am I a bad person?” she asked the black kitten plushie she was tucking into the toy box. She’d rescued the plushie from a sodden, falling-down Halloween display the day she met Jasper.
She had been so unhappy then, she’d seen herself in the bedraggled, unwanted toy with one of its eyes missing.
The kitten was in much better shape now. It had been laundered, mended, received state-of-the-art new-eye-surgery, and had even survived being Ruby’s favorite plaything since she was old enough to start grabbing at what she wanted.
Abigail was so much happier now, too, but what if underneath it all, she was still that messed-up, gross, slightly stinky cat toy that nobody wanted?
