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There was a tension in the room that she hadn’t expected. She eased into a seat, her excitement extinguished. “Are you unwell? Maybe you’ve got what Aileen had.”

Shaking his head, he gave her a weak smile, but it only served to heighten her anxiety. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t elaborate, and Maya was thrown for a moment. Did he want her to ask more? Or was he hoping she’d go away? Her gut instinct was to make her excuses and leave.

But something stopped her—the way that Liv had described her worries about her twin brother. Maya couldn’t abandon him without first making an effort.

She remembered the ride home from town the previous evening; he’d been a little subdued then. Had something happened when he was in that deli? Had he gotten a message? But he’d denied anything was wrong when she’d asked him.

Swallowing, she took a breath. “Do you want to talk? It seemed like you weren’t yourself on the ride home yesterday.”

His jaw tensed, and he rubbed his temples. “Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Because I really think that—”

“Maya. I said it’s fine. So it’s fine.”

He hadn’t raised his voice, but there was a razor-sharp edge that she’d not heard him use in a long time. Not since those tense words they’d exchanged prior to him ending it with her. The sound of his tone pricked at her eyes and she blinked, a lump rising in her throat.

She stood, trying to keep the wobble from her voice. “I’ll leave you to it.” Crossing the room, she opened the door and shut it behind her, closing her eyes tight to keep the tears in.

Maya grinned as she drove. “I think we’ve found your Darcy.” She and Liv had just paid a visit to Arran’s studio, to purchase the painting for the sled race prize. She’d chosen a day scene near the slopes because she’d been transfixed by the manner in which Arran had caught the sun glinting off the snow, feeling as if she could step into the painting, Mary Poppins–style, and carve her way down the trail.

Maya had asked Liv along to choose a painting for Christmas. With the ulterior motive of getting Liv a visit with Arran of course. Regular cupid, she was.

“Don’t,” Liv replied, looking out the window. “He’s not interested.”

“He seemed very interested to me.” Arran hadn’t seemed able to keep his eyes off Liv, watching her as she carried his son, Jayce, around the studio, with the wee one making regular grabs for her glasses. Maya had been furiously taking notes in her mental cupid notebook. It was full to the brim, and she’d need to buy a new one from the imaginary notebook store. “Anyway, you can’t wait around for Darcy to come to you, you need to grab him by the waistcoat.”

“He’s just friendly, and that’s how he is with everyone.” Liv pushed her glasses up her nose. “He was so in love with Jess and a bit lost when she finished it. I think he still half hopes she might come back.”

Maya glanced over, taking in the expression on Liv’s face. It was sad, but also something else. Wary?

While they had been at the studio, Arran had also sung Sam’s praises, waxing lyrical about the community project that Sam created a few years back. The scheme was aimed at helping less-privileged kids access skiing by subsidizing lessons and providing free skiwear. Maya had already heard about it from Liv and a few others at the resort, though nothing from Sam himself. It wasn’t as if she needed to hear anything else that would make him more attractive in her eyes, but it had done so nonetheless. All the more gut-wrenching that he wasn’t interested in her in that manner.

Sometimes, she let herself think that he was. Such as when he listened to her so intently and offered her sage advice. Or by the fireside yesterday, when there were a couple of moments that she’d foolishly thought he might want to kiss her. However, those perceptions were merely what she wanted to see, rather than what was really going on in front of her.

The sight of Sam sucking that cream off his thumb had burned onto her brain, and she’d had to fight off thoughts regarding what else she’d love to experience him doing with that mouth.

Maya had bought a third painting from Arran, the night scene that she and Sam both coveted, and was fast becoming Arran’s largest patron. But she hadn’t yet decided what she was going to do with it. A half-formed, silly thought had floated the other day about giving it to Sam for Christmas. Now she wasn’t so sure, partly because of their tense exchange earlier but mainly because it was a big gift for someone who was only a friend, and she didn’t want to give away how she felt about him. However, she loved the landscape and could always keep it for herself if gifting it to Sam didn’t feel right. She hadn’t treated herself to anything for a long time.

Clearing her throat, Liv glanced over. “What’s happening with Hana?”

Maya grimaced. “I’ve not tried to call or text again.”

Liv nodded. “And your dad?”

“Kind of been avoiding each other.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm, indeed,” Maya said.

“Do you think you should call Hana? Tell her you need to discuss it?”

The idea of that made her shudder. “I don’t know.”

Liv sighed. “Families, eh? Pain in the arse.”