“My condolences for your loss,” Grayson murmured.
“I have his child.” Oakley rubbed her belly. “At least I have a piece of him left.”
Garret picked up the screaming kid and yelled until the other kids stopped getting distracted by the lights and the townspeople and followed him.
“What kind of grieving girlfriend wants a gruesome play about the death of the father of her child?” Grayson asked me.
“Someone who is secretly glad he’s dead, probably.” I narrowed my eyes as I watched Oakley and Beatrice slowly make their way out of the Christmas market, causing as much commotion and drawing as much attention to their exit as they could.
“And for the raffle winner, number three hundred forty-five!”
“You won,” Grayson said.
“Shut up,” I hissed at him.
“Do we have a winner?” the grandmaster screamed, pointing at me. “Step right up and claim your prize!”
“You get it for me.”
“I can’t,” Grayson said, clamping down the smile. “The dogs… You know how they are.”
I trudged up the steps to shake hands and have my photo taken with my prize.
“You won!” Lexi screamed when I rejoined Grayson and the animals.
Grayson’s girlfriend had shown up with a wheelbarrow—yes, a literal wheelbarrow—full of Christmas market craplike wreaths, ornaments, and disfigured-looking holiday decorations.
“I thought Grayson wasn’t supposed to see his gift.”
“I actually am having something custom-made,” the short redhead sang. “It’s going to be amazeballs! He’s going to die when he sees it. Oops, wrong choice of words.”
“I’ll make sure Grayson practices his ‘I love it’ face,” I joked with her.
“Oooh!” She looked down at the red-green-and-white-striped box in my hand. “No fair! You won murder cupcakes.”
“I’m not eating them.” I headed to a trash can.
Before the elf-shaped can could open its mouth, I was mobbed by the crowd.
“Fifty dollars! I’ll give you fifty for those.”
“A hundred or nothing!” Lexi yelled.
“How about a reindeer sausage,” one guy offered. “Homemade?”
“Ooh, yes! Dinner tonight.” Lexi accepted the cooler and added it to the pile on the wheelbarrow.
I watched, feeling like a third wheel as my best friend and the love of his life bickered good-naturedly over the amount of stuff she’d bought.
Grayson picked up the wheelbarrow handles.
“Going back to the hot widow?” Lexi waggled her eyebrows.
“Against my will.”
“It’s Christmas. Santa loves a good deed! Someone’s at the top of the nice list!”
Emmie didn’t noticeme when I hovered in the back door to the kitchen, wanting to avoid the crush of gawkers in the shop.
