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William puffed out a breath. “Sure.”

He rapped on the hood with a knuckle. “Keep your nose clean, kid.”

William gave him a half-hearted salute and rolled the window back up.

“Peeing on snowmen?” I said. “At your big age?”

He pulled away from the curb. “As always, I’m innocent. I appreciate you perjuring yourself for me, though.”

“Any time. I love how they think you’re maybe possibly an outlaw, but they also would like your legal services.”

He laughed dryly.

“You know, for someone who says you couldn’t make a living here, there sure do seem to be a lot of people who need you. I’m sure some of them would pay. In actual money.”

Nick spoke up from the back. “She’s right. Estate planning, lease negotiations—”

“Prenups,” I said.

William pulled up in front of the bakery. “I suppose I never really took a poll to see if there was a need. I just assumed.”

“You’d have to change specialties,” I said. “And you’d have to figure out that image problem you have before moving here. You’re a bit of a pariah.”

“I’m not moving back to Little Christmas,” he said. There was something very final about it.

My smile fell.

No. Of course he wasn’t.

What was I thinking?

10

WILLIAM

“THEY PICKED THE GINGERBREAD cake,” Lauren whispered. “I would have gone with the chocolate, personally.”

We had our arms hooked and we were walking down the aisle in our ugly sweaters. She was holding a fake bouquet made of Christmas ribbons and I had a Christmas bow boutonniere attached to my chest. We were right in the middle of the wedding rehearsal.

“I preferred the vanilla,” I whispered back.

“But it’s so plain. If you agree to the chocolate, I’ll let you have the peppermint filling you liked. It’ll be good, like a peppermint mocha.”

We got to the end and separated, her going to stand on the bride’s side and me to the groom’s to stand next to Nick.

“Why don’t we split the cake?” I said quietly, talking to her around Nick. “You can have chocolate on the bottom tier and I’ll do vanilla on the top.”

“But what about our first bite?” she stage-whispered. “One of us won’t get our flavor.”

“We could cut it in two places.”

“No!”

The flower girl started down the aisle.

“I think we need to taste more cake,” I said. “There has to be one we agree on.”

She sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll taste more cake.”