Page 52

"Fine." She turns toward the market. "But we're getting snacks. Non-negotiable."

Of course, the market is at its evening peak.

There are bodies everywhere, but it at least gives me a good excuse to place my hand on Audrey's back and guide her beneath the striped awnings where vendors ladle spiced cider into red cups and the smell of roasted chestnuts and fresh waffles drifts through the cold.

Near the sleigh stop, Darcy Madden is herding a line of children with the efficiency of a woman who's done this all before, and by the ornament stall—

I stop walking. "Oh my God. Is that Beck Morrison? From the Beachside Bears?!"

Audrey follows my stare. "Are you celebrity gazing?"

I snap my neck to glare at her. "It's Beck Morrison! That man has ridiculous skills."

"You look like a teenage girl at a boy band concert."

"I've loved hockey my whole life. I'm allowed one Morrison Brother sighting per Christmas."

She laughs and we both order a coffee and watch as Beck Morrison shuffles across to plant a kiss on Darcy Madden's cheek.

"Okay. Wow." I gawk across the market in disbelief. "I never knew Beck Morrison was dating the Madden Hotel heir."

Audrey looks at me like I'm speaking French. "Do you want some food or what?"

I turn my hockey-crushing down a notch and buy provisions for the night drive. Cinnamon pretzels warm from the press, and a slab of peppermint bark thick enough to require both hands to snap it.

"Are we inspecting a light route," Audrey asks, "or preparing for winter survival?"

"I've spent enough time around you to know you get dangerous when you're hungry." I bump her with my hip. "Remember, I watched you threaten Colin Holden over a scheduling conflict while he was wearing slippers, Audrey. The poor bastard was defenseless."

We pass Zoey's Butter Batch counter, and then, at the last row, Audrey slows all the way down.

"What happened there?" Audrey asks.

Between the bakery stall and the carved-ornament vendor sits one dark hut with nothing inside. The awning is folded away and the lights are off.

A handwritten sign hangs from the front: CLOSED DUE TO FAMILY EMERGENCY.

Zoey wipes her hands on her sage-green apron. "Marlene's stall. Apparently her niece walked out on her Christmas wedding this week—like, right before the ceremony. The family's been calling everyone, saying the whole holiday's ruined, so Marlene drove out to collect the poor girl before somebody guilts her into going back." She shrugs. "Good for the niece, honestly. Weddings are a lot easier to replace than unhappy marriages. Trust me. I've priced both."

Audrey laughs, but I hear the pain beneath it.

"Running from Christmas weddings, huh," she says. "Apparently it's becoming a seasonal tradition."

"Hey." I wait until she looks at me. "One person refusing to make a lifelong mistake doesn't have the power to destroy Christmas. Christmas has survived wars, my brothers, and the year our generator died and Dad tried to light the farm with tractor headlights. It'll survive a smart woman leaving some dumbass man."

Audrey looks at me and blinks as snow lands in her lashes. For a moment, she looks like she's going to say something, but then Zoey slides a paper bag across the counter before the night gets too heavy.

"Take these cookies, you two," Zoey smiles. "Emergency supplies. Mandatory for romantic drives."

"It's a work assignment," Audrey says.

Zoey looks at me then at the mountain of snacks in my arms.

She says absolutely nothing.

By the time we load into the truck, it warms fast when I turn the heated seats on.

The smell of cinnamon and peppermint fills the cab, but somehow it's not as nice as the woman sitting beside me.