Page 88 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“No problem there,” Storee says.
Cindy sighs but doesn’t say anything else, so I head down the barely lit porch, Storee joining me. “Have a good night, Cindy.”
“You too, Cole. And if anything, at least try to be kind to my niece.”
“Sure,” I say, even though I don’t mean it.
When they shut the door, Storee and I head down the sidewalk toward town, silence falling between the two of us. Not surprised—what do we really have to say to each other?
Nothing of substance.
Nothing that would create the opening to a long, deep conversation.
Nothing that wouldn’t get us to start yapping at each other.
Pushing the competition to the side for a moment, I am sad that we’ve lost our way with each other, that we shared that one night ten years ago when I was hurt, and she was hurt, and we couldn’t quite see past our own heartache to glimpse each other. We did used to be friends. She was my once-a-year breath of fresh air who flew into Kringletown with sunshine and vigor. Yes, she’d complain about the cold, but that was par for the course—and I kind of liked it. She brought brightness and hope to my quiet soul. A friendship I loved.And yet, we’re enemies.But right now, I can’t imagine anything different.
So we continue to stay silent as we move down the sidewalk, straight to Krampus Court where the first store we walk by is Frank ‘n’ Scents on the right.
“So what’s the plan?” Storee finally says. “Because I don’t want to be wandering the streets with you with no plan in mind. We need people to see us, and then we can go home.”
“So romantic,” I say, causing her to look up at me.
“You’re the one who got us into this mess, so you’re the one who needs to come up with a plan.”
“You didn’t have to say yes to the date.”
“Fakedate,” she says. “And I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t about to look like the asshole who is turning down the town’s golden boy.”
“Aww.” I press my hand to my chest. “You think of me as the golden boy?”
“Please, for the love of God, don’t test my patience tonight, Cole. I already can’t feel my legs.”
I glance down at her jeans and then back up at her. “Surprised you didn’t wear your snowsuit. It would have added an extra level of defense from me.”
“Defense?” she asks with a raised brow. “Are you planning on…disrobing me?”
“Jesus, no,” I say. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean, like…from being close to me…you know what, never mind.” We walk past the hardware store and then right to the place I want to be…Prancer’s Libations.
“A bar? Really? That’s where you’re taking me? Do you really need to be drunk for this?”
I stare down at her. “They’re serving mulled apple cider to go. It’s my favorite, and I thought it might be a good start to keep you warm so we can make it through the night, putting on this farce.”
“Oh,” she says, not a witty comeback in sight.
I open the door to Prancer’s Libations and let her go in first.
Thachary is at the bar, serving a few couples, while the rest of the room is full, visitors and townies milling about, enjoying the Christmas music and free appetizers being passed around.
Even though I’ve never taken part in Cupid Christmas, I have to admit it’s a good idea for anyone in a relationship. Gives the town theopportunity to focus on the older crowd, brings in more business, and creates a memorable moment for the loving couples.
And it gives me the opportunity to win the hearts of the judges.
I walk up to the bar and nod at Thachary when we make eye contact. Storee sidles up next to me and rests her arm on the bar as she turns toward me.
“Wow, it’s packed,” she says just as another couple arrives and moves in next to Storee, causing her to step into my personal space.
“Getting cozy?” I ask her.
