She was already halfway up the steps, so she turned around and replied, “I’m going to vote for the gingerbread contest.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder.
Mom wrung her hands. “You didn’t tell her which house was mine, did you, Benjamin?”
“I didn’t say a darn thing. Don’t know why she has to run off like that.” If there was one thing that made Dad grumpy, it was being in trouble with Mom.
Lauren held up her gloved hands. “I don’t have to vote.”
“Don’t be so hasty.” Mom shooed her back up the steps. “As long as you don't know which house in mine, there’s no harm in voting.”
With a sigh, Lauren made her way through the doors. If this pattern continued, Ethan and Collin would be over in a bit to play Christmas games. In a moment, she would talk to–she bumped into a hard chest. Stumbling back, she looked into Jacob’s curious eyes as he grabbed her and held on, so she didn’t fall.
Lauren looked him over, taking in every detail and comparing it with the man she’d smeared frosting on the day before. A smile tugged at her lips. That was one of her best non-memories from the supposed day before that never happened.
Her eyes moved up a pair of jean-clad legs to a trim torso, then a set of broad shoulders, and finally landed on Jacob's guarded expression. She placed both hands on the firm planes of his chest and pushed him backward.
Jacob’s eyebrows lifted. “It’s good to see you too, Lauren.”
“Stay away from me, Jacob Morris.” She didn’t need one more confusing thing this Christmas, and if Jacob was anything–it was confusing. Her body responded to being near to him as if he were the man she was supposed to fall into for the rest of her life. And yet, he didn’t want her.
Jacob scowled. “What did I ever do to you, Lauren?”
Today was not the day. She’d had a weird dream, an even weirder morning, and she suddenly remembered him trying to kiss her in this very building. Or something like that. She stiff-armed past him. “As if you didn’t know.”
He grabbed her outstretched hand and stopped her advance into the room with the gingerbread houses. “I don’t know. That’s the problem.”
She met his gaze and found a level of imploring that grabbed at her heart and held fast. Oh, those caramel eyes! They used to be her undoing.
“Please, Lauren. I have to know,” he begged.
She drew a breath in. What would it hurt? She’d moved on–as evidenced by the ring on her finger–er, well, back at the house in the box since it didn’t fit.
Maybe Jacob needed closure. She wasn’t such a monster that she would deny him the chance to do some soul-searching. Besides, she kind of remembered covering his face with frosting yesterday–er, last night…? It was all so blurry. Regardless, she felt like she owed him one.
“You–” she gulped, the truth sticking in her throat like a lump of taffy. “You–” What could she say? That he’d broken her heart? She glanced up at the ceiling. Admitting that he’d had that much effect on her would be like throwing open her coat and telling Jack Frost to do his worst. She’d be exposed–again–to the one man who should have protected her.
“You betrayed me,” she managed to get out.
His hand fell away, and she missed the buzzing between them. His eyes dropped to the floor. She took courage from the fact that he didn’t come back verbally swinging. “I bared my soul to you at graduation, told you how I felt, and you mocked me for it.”
He closed his eyes, the corners wrinkling. “I thought you were kidding,” he said softly.
Lauren gasped. The ceasefire came to an abrupt end, and she glared icicles at him before flipping on her heel, anxious to leave this place of open wounds.
“Lauren, let me explain.” He hooked her arm. “I thought you were trying to prank me. I’m serious. I kept looking around for cameras.”
She dropped her chin to her chest. “I’d never pranked you before.”
He dropped her arm, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him run his hand through his hair.
In front of her was freedom, the bright Christmas sunshine streaming through the glass doors. In here, though, in here was a warmth she wouldn’t get out there even if it came with this difficult conversation.
“I know. Trust me, I know. I’ve replayed it a thousand times. Two thousand!” He threw his hand in the air. “Do you know how many times I’ve wondered where I’d be, where we’d be if I had reacted differently?”
A smile whispered across her lips. “Two thousand?”
Their eyes met, and he chuckled, the stress lines around his eyes melting away like Frosty the Snowman when the sun was hot. “Even more.” He folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Have you ever thought about me?”
The building was suddenly ten degrees too hot. She shucked her gloves and heard a tinkling sound. “Oh, no!” Crouching down, she found her ring. “It keeps falling off,” she explained as she stood up, the ring pinched between her finger and thumb. She held it out for Jacob to see. “I’m engaged,” she said apologetically.
