Page 31 of Dumped for a Christmas Tree Farmer

“Well, is she taking him if he’s going freely? I would say Holly’s doing her a favor, and you as well, Maverick.”

“I don—” I try to protest, but it’s useless. Bella rolls her eyes, stands to her full height, and picks up Charlie’s empty beer bottle.

“You want another, handsome?”

Charlie nods, his eyes wide with adoration.

She playfully taps under his chin with the side of her index finger, throwing him a wink for good measure. The second she walks away, he rests his forehead on the sticky table, links his fingers behind his head, and sighs.

“She called me handsome.”

Christ.

Chapter Thirteen

December 28

Indy

I’m penned into the booth at The Bear Den, James’s hot beer breath tickling the end of my nose. His arm is around the back of the booth, causing him to lean into me. My heart is racing; I’d waited so long to sit in public with him, and yet somehow it doesn’t feel right. My panties are still soaked from what Mav did to me in the bakery, and holding the secret that Mav got me off to the sound of James arguing with Holly is frankly insane. The second I left the building, the cold air hit me like jumping into an ice bath. Clarity after the haze of Maverick Stone had passed. It’s like I can’t breathe around him, like my vision blurs, the only thing in focus is him. It’s utterly reckless and compelling, and I need to find a way to stop.

James burps, thankfully holding it in his mouth and swallowing it back down. The bags under his eyes suggest some late-night rendezvous with Holly, or maybe the holiday season is just kicking his ass like the rest of us. But he looks older, tired, like he needs a change. How is it that someone can lose their shine in a matter of days?

I watch as Mav enters the bar, the crowd parting for him like he owns it. Although maybe he does, why would he want to purchase the bakery, if not to rent it out to his future wife. I can’t imagine his long-term goal is to continue messing with her.

He heads for the booth the lawyer is sitting in, and I watch the back of his head as his friend stares longingly at Bella. She crouches down to talk to them, glancing over at our table for a moment.

“She’s impossible. You know what she’s like, Ind. She’s stubborn, yet has no idea what she’s doing. She just jumps from thing to thing.”

“Mhm,” I respond.

What does he want me to say? Yes, the girl who was my best friend and the person you were apparently sleeping with in high school isn’t a great person? And you got together with me in secret, and then dumped me the second she got home, but now she’s upset with you again. And apparently, you now want sympathy from me . . . the dumpee in this situation.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Indy. You’re such a good listener.”

I roll my eyes, taking a sip of my drink, until I feel his palm squeeze my thigh and my shoulders tighten. I should want this. I should be happy he’s doing this in public. But it feels more like a “screw you” to Holly than a declaration to me. He knows that word will get back to her. He knows she’ll find out. And I’ll be blamed. His friends have already called me a slut to my face at the snowball fight. I’m not sure I need the added drama that this is bringing me. Which reminds me of the comment Griffin made about my mom. Calling her a slut and a whore, suggesting she got around. And maybe she did; that was her prerogative. But somehow I’m guilty by association.

I haven’t forgotten James’s unmistakable silence during Griffin’s tirade. How he stood and said nothing, and it was Mav who defended me. He didn’t even know my mom; he barely knew me. All he knew was that Griffin was trying to humiliate me. So he stood up and did something unlike James.

Glancing back over to Mav’s table, I connect eyes with Charlie. He frowns a little, and I see his brows pinch together. He gives me a questioning thumbs-up, and I nod. He seems like a good guy.

“I think I’ve made a mistake, Ind. Getting together with Holly . . . I should have been with you this whole time.”

“You were with me, James. For ten months. We were together, just not publicly,” I sigh.

“We were friends with benefits, Indy. I had no idea you wanted more.”

My head snaps to his, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Is he kidding me right now? Where the hell is Mav? Because my wrist is too sore to punch James in the face. Maybe a strong slap will do. The bruising is still there, his nose slightly swollen. I could flick his nose, and that will probably inflict enough damage to get him the hell away from me.

“Come on, Indy. You never asked to go public.” He gives me a patronizing smile, and I rear back as if I’d been slapped.

“I asked all the time, James. I asked to go out for dinners, coffee, but you just kept fobbing me off and showing up at my house because it was convenient. I’m such an idiot. Now let me the hell out of here.”

“Don’t be like that.” He squeezes my thigh again, his other hand reaching out to cup my cheek until I rear back and slap it away.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Come on, Indy? Is it that time of the month?”