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I frown slightly, not certain what I’m supposed to pack and annoyed that I don’t get to stay and hang out with Serena, but I know my sister has a lot to do today, with the remainder of the catering team arriving to do some of the final prep work before the guests start arriving, so I reluctantly turn and walk down to the big kitchen.
When I get there, I see a large bag packed with blankets and extra winter clothing as well as a picnic hamper designed for cold weather and a note in Olivia’s neat handwriting:
I’m not sure exactly what’s going on with you and Serena,
but whatever it is – DON’T screw it up.
I haven’t seen you smile like this in forever.
p.s I like her too.
The bag haseverything I need for the afternoon. Olivia read my mind. Or at least part of my mind. Hopefully, Olivia only read the PG version of how I plan for this afternoon for go. I peek inside the basket, noting all the thoughtful details Liv included. This is one time I don’t mind the twin intrusion because she included all the tiny details I never would have thought of, but I know Serena will appreciate. Olivia’s note told me not to screw it up and I plan not to.
9
Serena
Ilook over the itinerary for Savannah’s wedding one last time and wait for panic to set in. When it doesn’t, I let out a relieved breath, surprised at how something I was dreading has turned into a wonderful experience. Olivia and her team can work miracles as far as I’m concerned. I send a quick text to Sav letting her know that her perfect Christmas wedding is going to be even more amazing than she imagined. Her excited emojis and heart eyes make me smile. I’m so happy for her. I glance down at my watch and realize I’m a few minutes late to meet Owen with whatever this surprise is. My heart trips and I remind myself that this is just a fun, holiday flirtation. We’ll go our separate ways after the wedding, even though somehow the thought fills me with dread. Savannah pings me with another text, telling me how much she loves me. I text her back, wishing her a safe trip and to remind her she’ll be a married woman soon. I was skeptical at first when Sav and Max first got together. Most of the guys she’s dated want Savannah Hale, the star. They don’t realize she isn’t a two-dimensional character who can’t go to a restaurant without having a crowd of photographers descend on her when she leaves. To my surprise, Max seems to be her perfect fit. Six months ago, I wouldn’t have believed that a chance meeting and a whirlwind romance set the stage for everlasting love, but Savannah and Max seem to be making it work.
This fairytale stuff is getting to me. How else can I explain the way I feel about a man I just met? It must be wishful thinking on my part to imagine something beyond our intense attraction to each other. He hasn’t made a move on me, unless you count ‘accidental’ hand brushes, standing way to close to me, causing my body to practically incinerate from his intense eyes and flirty banter. He’s so easy to talk to and I feel like I’ve known him for years instead of days. I walk down the stairs, the wood banister smooth under my hand from years of use. There’s something magical about this place but decorated as it is for Christmas and the wedding, almost takes my breath away. Fresh greenery is everywhere, tied with rich, red velvet ribbons. There are Christmas trees in all the big rooms, each with a different theme, somehow being both elegant and homey. The inn is bustling right now with preparations for the guests and many people smile and nod at me as I walk through the inn and over to the family side. I pause by the parlor, unable to resist stopping to look at the family tree, which is my favorite. It’s not fully decorated yet, as Olivia has been busy with the wedding and I understand her parents are away on some second honeymoon, but the decorations that are up tug at my heartstrings.
The bookshelf is lined with Christmas-themed frames, and each holds a photo of Owen and his sister with Santa Claus through the years. First as chubby babies, being held by their parents and finally there’s one that looks like it could have been taken last year, with Owen kneeling in front of Santa, and Olivia sitting beside Santa, on a big navy-blue chair, both of them in ridiculous Christmas sweaters. I look closely at the frames, seeing Owen transform over time. There’s one of him as a toddler, his face screwed up in tears, arms outstretched for someone off camera while Olivia smiles serenely in a gold and white dress. There’s another, of a stocky adolescent boy, his hair short in the front and long in the back, awkwardly perched on Santa’s lap, his too-long legs crowding out his sister’s fancy sparkling shoes.
“That’s a hockey haircut,” Owen’s deep voice makes me jump. For such a large guy, he can move like a ninja. He points at the picture I was checking out. “It’s cut that way so my hair didn’t hang in my eyes when I had my helmet on.”
“Cute,” I say, breathing in his scent. He smells like leather and spice and cedar, and he must have just come in from outdoors, because I can feel the chill on his clothes.
“Oh, there’s nothing cute about me in that picture.”
I turn my head slightly, wishing I had the courage to reach up and run my fingers over his stubbled jaw. He might have had an awkward stage, but he’s all man now. Grown up and gorgeous. “If I say you were cute, you were cute.” Our eyes meet and the moment grows heavy. His eyes drop to my lips, and I have to remind myself to breathe.
“Do you think I’m still cute?” His voice is almost a whisper as he steps closer to me, his hands skimming up my arms.
“I might have a few more adjectives to describe you now,” I murmur.
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Are you fishing for compliments, Gingerbread Man?”
“Only from you, Serena.” His gaze searches mine.
My heart thuds in my ears. “Gorgeous. Funny. Kind.” I swallow my inhibitions. “Infuriating,” I whisper.
He pulls back. “How so?”
I bite my lip, throwing caution to the wind. “You haven’t tried to kiss me again. I’m beginning to think you’re just a tease.”
“I want to kiss you.”
I raise my eyebrows.Well?
He turns me to him. “Maybe I’m afraid if I start, I won’t be able to stop. Or that I’ll wake up and you and your sexy boots will be gone.” His expression is naked, open and vulnerable. “Again.”
My heart catches. “I’m sorry I did that.”
He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter because by some fluke of the universe, we both ended up here.” He takes my hand. “Come on, Kevin is waiting for us.”
I follow him out through the kitchen. “Kevin?”
