Page 55 of The Lie That Stole Christmas

“With Larry?Always.”Lena pushed out of her chair and grabbed her coat.“Now you can get back to fighting as if you don’t want to rip each other's clothes off.”

“Lena,” Carter said with warning in his tone.

“We’re all thinking it.I just said it.Toodles.”She swept out of the room, leaving Carter and Ashley in the aftermath.Silence spread around them, engulfing the room in an unavoidable awkwardness.

“Is she usually so blunt?”Ashley finally asked.

“Always.”

“I like her.She’s… refreshing.”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

“What else would you call it?”she countered.

“Trying to make things as uncomfortable as possible.”

“Are you uncomfortable?I’m not uncomfortable.”

She blinked, waiting for his response.The room seemed to shrink in on them, everything fading around them, and all he could focus on were those bright gray eyes.He felt himself slipping deep into the gray of her eyes, remembering how good it felt to have her lips on his.

He stepped closer, wanting to finish what they had started upstairs.

A shout from a man echoed from outside, followed by the unmistakable sound of something metallic crashing.

Carter sighed.“Larry.”

Ashley’s eyes widened, and an adorable laugh slipped from her lips.And just like that, the spell was broken.For now.

Chapter sixteen

Ashley

Ashleysteppedoutside,pullingher coat tight and leaving behind the scent of pine and gingerbread that seemed permanently woven into the walls of Winterridge.Tiny’s gingerbread cookies had become an instant favorite among the Wetherbys.Even Dad had requested a plate delivered to his room most evenings while he answered emails and checked in with the office.

The cold air nipped at her cheeks as she made her way down the stone path toward the guest house.Fresh snow blanketed the grounds, untouched in places where the morning sun hadn’t yet reached.The sound of snow crunching beneath her boots echoed around her.Ahead of her, the guest house sat nestled beneath a dusting of white, looking like something pulled directly from a Christmas card.

Preparations for the festival were everywhere.

Garland wrapped the fence posts lining the walkways, accented by big red bows that swayed gently in the breeze.The enormous evergreen near the south lawn had already been draped with thousands of lights, though they remained dark for now.Come festival night, it would glow brightly enough to be seen from the road.

A wooden sleigh sat near the carriage house, awaiting its final polish.Nearby, stacks of hay bales had been arranged for seating around the bonfire.Someone—probably Clint—had already hauled in enough firewood to last three winters.The scent of wood smoke lingered faintly in the air from the staff testing the fire pits the day before.

Ashley slowed as she reached the center of the grounds, taking a moment to take it all in.Winterridge had always been beautiful at Christmas.But it was different now.

Years ago, she would have walked this path without a second thought, assuming everything simply appeared because it always had.The garland.The lights.The wreaths hanging from every window.The sleigh ride.The festival.

Now she knew better.

Someone had spent hours, days, weeks to make it happen.

Someone had coordinated the vendors, checked the lights, planned the routes, hired the entertainment, and made sure all the details were exactly right.

Someone had protected the traditions of her childhood, of her grandmother's hard work, while everyone else stayed away.

Her attention drifted toward the guesthouse.Warmth spread through her despite the bitter cold.As she climbed the steps to the guesthouse, she caught sight of him through the front window.

Her heart stuttered in her chest; a giddy excitement spread through her just as it did when she was sixteen.