Page 50 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
“Exactly, and I know how to get there. There has to be buildup. There has to be tension, and then there needs to be a moment when you become real. A moment when she sees you as more than just the man who lives on the farm next to her. She needs to see you for you, and that’s how you get her to fall.”
“That’s what happened with you and Cole?”
She nods. “Yup. Happened after the candy cane-making class we went to. He dropped his guard, and I saw past the gruff exterior to recognize that he was hurting inside. It changed everything. But we have to build to that point. We can’t just lay it out there for her, because she’ll believe that you’re just getting to know her?—”
“To get her to back off.”
“Precisely.”
I rub my hands together, feeling the excitement come back into my body. “I knew I should have been talking to you this entire time. And you acted like you wanted nothing to do with me in there. You wily minx.”
“Of course. To throw my husband off. Come on. The minute I saw the crayon drawings, I knew I was in.”
“I’m so glad my best friend fell in love with you.”
“And I’m so glad my husband is your best friend. I’ve been waiting for something like this. Get me out of my mom funk. Go undercover. Smell the action again.”
I smirk. “Missing the Christmas Kringle competition?”
“Just a little.” She holds up her fingers. “Okay, meet me at Warm Your Spirits tomorrow at seven in the morning, sharp.”
“Seven?” I balk.
“It’s when I go for my walk with Flo and Evelyn. It won’t lead to any suspicion from the husband.”
“Gotcha.”
“Okay. See you then.” She starts to leave, but I stop her.
“Hey, do you think we need a secret handshake or anything?”
“Absolutely.” Then she holds her hands out together like she’s saying a prayer and then says, “Lay a motherfucking bomb on this Christmas tree.”
Laughing, I form a fist and then crash my hand on top of her fingers.
She deflates them and then says, “Consider her Christmas ruined.”
Chapter Eleven
Max
Narrator: Were you expecting such a turn of events? For Storee and Max to join together in cahoots? It only feels right—her random spirit and his insanity. Seems like a match made in heaven to me. Let’s just hope that Cole doesn’t find out.
Or anyone else for that matter, because if there is one thing we know for certain about a small town? News spreads fast.
“What are you wearing?” Storee asks as I take a seat across from her in Warm Your Spirits.
I glance down at myself. “I wasn’t sure if I needed to be incognito.”
“You’re a six-foot-four mammoth of a man wearing a ski mask and sunglasses. You’re anything but incognito at the moment.”
“You think people recognize me?”
“You’re wearing an Evergreen Farm crewneck sweatshirt, so yes, I’m pretty sure anyone would recognize you.”
“Shit,” I mutter as I remove the glasses and the ski mask. Storee winces when she catches sight of me without my disguise.
“God, the bruising is all yellow and gross now on your face. And your hair looks terrible.”
