“But it’s true,” I whisper.
“Finley,” he says, and the smile that follows warms something in my chest. “My family adores you, so don’t worry about them. I’m more worried about you.”
My heart skips a beat. Did Tyler tell him he found me crying out back? “Why?”
“That call with Roland.” He pauses and my breath sticks in my chest. “Finley, I don’t know?—”
I shove down my rising panic. “We already discussed that,” I say as serenely as possible. “That subject is closed.”
“Why do I feel like it’s not?” A storm brews in his eyes, and it pulls me in, which is so irritating. What kind of woman is attracted to a man who thinks she’s beneath him? I need to get more self-respect.
I flash a sharp smile. “That sounds like a you problem.”
He startles. “But?—”
I’m not sticking around to listen to him try and pacify me. It would be even more humiliating than overhearing his conversation, so I head out of the tent, leaving him to chase after me.
Tyler’s standing in the middle of the crowd, people parting around him like he’s a boulder in a stream. I stop about five feet from him.
“I thought you wanted a candle,” Alex says in a worried tone as he catches up.
I paste on a sweet smile. “What kind of shopper would I be if I bought something in the first place I stopped in?”
“Looks like Mallory isn’t following the same philosophy,” Tyler says dryly from behind us.
I turn to see their sister emerge with a shopping bag. “Okay,” she says, bright-eyed and beaming. “Next.”
As I follow Mallory into the next tent, I wonder how I can pull off the plan I came up with this morning to buy presents for the King family without any of them noticing. It stands to reason I’ll have to include Alex, but I’m still too unsettled to talk to him. I need to get over myself. My hurt pride is dampening my joy of experiencing the market.
We visit a few more vendors, and Alex accompanies me like a dutiful boyfriend. Part of me feels sorry for him. I’m sure he’d rather be anywhere than here, so why did he come? Probably to convince Tyler. I’m sure that’s why he came caroling, although he didn’t look as miserable last night as he does now.
My irritation softens. Sure, he’s a snob about who he dates, but I also get it. Roland’s right—I don’t belong at their business dinners, and honestly, I wouldn’t want to go. Alex needs a woman who fits in his world, and that’s not me. Why should I hold that against him?
Still, it takes another fifteen minutes before I’m ready to talk to him. We’re about to go into a space that sells kitchenware, but I grab Alex’s arm to keep him from following his siblings inside. The eager look on his face catches me by surprise, but then again, I’ve been giving him the cold shoulder, and it’s obvious his siblings have noticed.
I take a deep breath, torn between apologizing or not. But an apology will open the door to our earlier conversation, and I’d rather walk back to Georgia than bring it up again, so I dive right in. “I want to get your family Christmas presents.”
Surprise fills his eyes, but then he shakes his head. “You don’t have to. Finley. They don’t expect that.”
“I know,” I say. “But I like giving gifts, and it’s part of the Christmas experience, right?”
He studies me for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“The problem is I don’t know what they like. What did you get them?”
“Gift cards.”
I blink, hoping I heard him wrong. “Did you say gift cards?”
He frowns. “What’s wrong with gift cards?”
It takes me a beat to realize he’s serious. “Alex,” I say in dismay. “Gift cards are what you get your dentist or your kids’ teachers. It’s not what you give your family.”
Irritation flickers on his face. “It’s what I’ve gotten my family for the past four years, and no one’s complained yet.”
“Anyone with any tact isn’t going to complain.” I roll my eyes. “So, as your friend, I’m telling you that you need to get them gifts too.”
He considers it and says, “Okay. But what about the gift cards?”
