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For wreath-making night.

The bell above the door jingles out my arrival. The bookstore is filled with about fifteen women milling about. Several display tables have been moved aside to create space for a long working table covered in red-and-green fabric. Grapevine wreaths are set out. Hot-glue guns are plugged into power strips. Piles of multicolored bows make mini mountains along the table, and other accessories are in festive baskets. “Grown-Up Christmas List” is drifting through the speakers. Gosh, my love for this song—the Amy Grant version in particular—is almost enough to make me forget that I just willingly agreed to a craft night.

Almost.

I square my shoulders and step into the bookstore. It’ll be worth all the glitter and glue if I can figure out what’s going on with Beth and make it right.

I don’t spot her immediately. Instead, I see Lola, who introduced herself while caroling last night. She was embarrassed and wanted to apologize about her posts on the Dasher Valley Download site. I gave her credit for owning it. She seems nice enough.

Lola catches my eye and gives me a small wave before going back to her conversation with Naomi, who I recognize from growing up. She was probably five or six years ahead of me in school.

I skim my gaze over the room, looking for Beth, but before I can spot her, I’m swarmed by Patrice and Winnie.

“Gaber.” Patrice gives me a pillowy hug. “Where’s Elena? Everything okay?”

“All good, yeah. She was just tired tonight and decided to stay home and rest her foot. I’m here in her place. Tasked with creating a wreath for her front door that, and I quote, ‘won’t make me embarrassed.’”

Patrice chortles. “That’s the spirit!”

“Mom clearly doesn’t have much faith in my artistic abilities.” I turn to greet Beth’s friend. “Hi, Winnie.”

“Good to see you again, Gabe. You just stick with us”—she gestures between herself and Patrice—“and you’ll be okay. We can show you the ropes.”

“Or the ribbon, as it were,” Patrice trills. “Come on, let’s get a good spot by a glue gun with a long cord.”

“Smart,” Winnie agrees. “Crafting is all about having the right tools at your disposal, Gabe.”

I follow the pair into the fray, stopping to greet one of my high school English teachers, who’s chatting with Ivy and—

“Jack?”

His head whips in my direction. “Gabe. Dude! Another man. Praise!”

He cuts around Ivy, dropping a kiss on her temple on his way to shake my hand.

I pull him into a hug. “Sorry I haven’t made work of seeing you since Thanksgiving.”

I feel a modicum of guilt that I’ve seen Beth—on several occasions—and I’m here tonight with the express mission of seeing her again. And a bit more guilt that I’ve never even fessed up to Jack that I kissed his sister and then went off to chase a music career.

Luckily for me, Jack is chiller than Jack Frost and doesn’t hold any of it against me.

“It’s so good to see you, buddy. How long are you in town for?”

“A couple more weeks. I have to go back to record a Christmas special the weekend before the twenty-fifth, but I want to help Mom out as much as I can before I get back to work in the new year.”

“Dang. Here I was hoping it was a permanent move. My spring flag football team is severely lacking in the defensive department. I could use ya.”

Before I can respond, a sharp whistle slices through the room and the crowd quiets.

“Ladies!” A short woman with a wavy, cropped hair cut claps her hands together. She eyes Jack and me and adds, “And gentlemen! I’m Kyra, co-owner of Bows and Boughs. Thank you all for coming out tonight, and thanks to Beth for hosting us here at Dash Away Books. Let’s get started, shall we? To the wreaths!”

We all find a station with a wreath and our supplies. I’m overwhelmed and overstimulated by all the ruffles and bows. I stand next to Jack, who is next to Ivy. Patrice and Winnie are opposite of us.

“Psst.” Patrice leans over the table as Kyra gives instructions. “You’ll have to fight me for the good glue gun.”

She winks, and I grin.

“You’re on.”