He smiled that annoyingly peaceful smile again. “You sure that’s not guilt talking?”
I frowned. “Guilt?”
“Six times, right?”
I groaned. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
We went back to wrangling the reindeer, but my concentration was shot. Every time I blinked, I saw her face. Every time the wind blew, I imagined the faint trace of herperfume, something citrusy and sweet that didn’t belong in a place like this.
“Damn it,” I muttered.
“What now?” Callum asked.
“She’s here.”
“Obviously.”
“No, I mean…she’shere.”
He gave me that smirk again. “You make it sound like an existential crisis.”
“It is.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “You’ve been in love so long you forgot what it’s like to deal with someone who makes you want to throttle them and kiss them at the same time.”
“Ah,” he said. “The Melanie Effect.”
“Don’t name it,” I said. “Makes it sound permanent.”
He laughed, patting my shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Maybe she’s mellowed out since the last time.”
“Yeah, and maybe reindeer can fly.”
He grinned. “Careful. Sounds like someone’s still interested.”
I shot him a look. “I’m not interested. I’mwary.There’s a difference.”
“Sure.”
“I’m serious.”
“Of course.”
“Stop smiling like that.”
He kept right on smiling, damn him.
We got the reindeer finally standing straight, lights glowing warm and steady against the growing dark. Main Street had begun to fill with more cars, locals, a few tourists, and one silver car parked down the street.
“Welcome home,” Callum said softly, more to himself than me.
I followed his gaze to where Lydia moved toward us, her red and green scarf wrapped high, her laugh cutting through the cold air.
Melanie climbed out, slammed the door a little too hard, and turned in our direction.
Our eyes met.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Snow fell between us like static.
