Chapter 3 #2
That was ironic—Alanis Morissette level. I frowned. “Why?”
I could almost hear Ryan’s shrug. “We didn’t get into all that. He’s just not a fan.”
“Then why does he want to go to Point Bluff?”
Ryan cleared his throat. “To be your date.”
I widened my eyes at my reflection. “You’re saying that Nick was into me enough when he met me last year that he wants to be my date at a gathering for a holiday he despises?”
A grin threatened my cheeks at the notion, and I tried to rein it back. Single girls at Christmas couldn’t be too careful. The matchmakers were feral this time of year, and I hated blind dates more than the holidays. I needed to know for sure Nick was on board and not being bamboozled.
Ryan let out his breath. “You’re overthinking, Holly.”
That was probably fair. Still. “One more time, to clarify—Nick knows he’s my date and wants to be.”
“ Yes. ”
My brother had the patience of a saint. I gave my grin permission to spread. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then.”
I hung up and tossed my cell back on the bench. Then I bounced up and down a little on my toes and preened in my new sweater. Looked like I was going home unemployed and turning thirty…
But maybe I didn’t have to go home completely single after all.
In his thirty-one years, Nick had never experienced a wardrobe crisis. But staring into the depths of his color-coordinated yet still insufficient closet, he figured that’s what this mildly panicky, throat-closing sensation was.
He straightened the collar on a hanging polo shirt. He needed to impress Ryan’s parents, but not in a trying-too-hard type of way. More like in a responsible, please-invest-in-my-dream type of way…which is why he’d basically packed everything.
He’d also never experienced having another man sit on his suitcase before.
Ryan grunted as he wrestled with the zipper on Nick’s black Samsonite. “Dude. You forgot to bring the kitchen sink.” He had come over from the office to drop off Nick’s forgotten charger before they left the next day and had somehow ended up on the floor in Nick’s room, fighting his luggage.
“You said you’ve been working out.” Nick grinned as he placed a discarded hanger back onto the closet rod. His oil diffuser wafted cedarwood across the room. “Prove it.”
“Benching two hundred and closing this monster are two very different exercises.” Ryan’s face flushed as he tried again. He bounced a little on the hard-shell top, his glasses slipping down his nose.
“If you manage to get it shut, I won’t tell Lydia your max is actually one seventy-five.”
“You’re a good man.” Ryan oomphed again as the zipper edged another inch along its track. His dark hair fell over his forehead. “It’s getting there. Though now I’m wondering if you actually did pack a sink.”
Nick straightened the box on the closet shelf that contained his belts. “Since you refused to give me any kind of agenda, I had to pack options. Dressy, casual, warm, comfortable…”
“Some people combine those categories.” Ryan let out a strained chuckle. “But I can’t be too annoyed. You sound like Lydia—she’s nothing if not prepared.”
Speaking of being prepared. “You did talk to your sister today, right?” Nick pushed through the remaining items hanging in his closet—not that there were many—to make sure he hadn’t overlooked something crucial.
His focus might be on impressing Ryan’s parents, but in the back of his mind, a tiny part of him felt not entirely unhappy to see Holly again.
“I definitely don’t want her blindsided that I’m showing up.
Though I’m not sure that telling her the day before we leave isn’t still blindsiding. ”
“I told her. I knew that last minute would be better, in case she protested.” Ryan huffed as he adjusted positions on the suitcase.
“And did she? Protest?” Not that it mattered. It didn’t. Nick shook his head. All this project planning and investment seeking had left him more mentally drained than he’d realized. Leaving his charger at work proved it.
So did hoping Holly wanted him to be her date.
But that was just because if she refused, he wouldn’t have an excuse to check out the property and talk further with the Sinclairs.
Not because he’d be disappointed.
“No, she was cool with it.” Thankfully Ryan seemed oblivious to Nick’s mind scramble. “And I appreciate this favor, man. My sister clearly needs a win.”
Nick refolded a pair of socks. “I’m not sure a holiday date with me fits that bill, but you’re welcome.”
“If you knew the extent of this block party my parents host, you’d understand.” Ryan sighed. “My mom makes the North Pole appear un-festive.”
Something else to look forward to. Nick shoved his empty hangers toward the end of the rod. He could put aside his personal preferences for the greater good of this investment with the Sinclairs. One holiday party would be well worth the strides toward his dream—toward making a difference.
Then he could go back to eating ramen alone on Christmas.
“Just make sure Holly doesn’t find out I had to talk you into it.” Ryan sat upright on the suitcase. “I sort of made it sound like you couldn’t wait.”
Oy. Nick shook a hanger at Ryan. “I no longer feel guilty making you try to zip that thing.”
Ryan smirked. “It would hardly cheer her up or build her confidence if she knows you’re essentially just trying to get face time with my parents.”
“Come on, that’s not the only reason I’m coming.” Just the main one.
Guilt tapped at Nick’s shoulder. But his ultimate intentions were to help teenagers—nothing purer than that, right? Besides, if Ryan had asked him to double date with Holly next time she came through town, he’d have accepted.
Probably.
If he was further along in his dream building, anyway.
“Trust me, Holly knowing as little as possible is the only way,” Ryan said, waving his hand dismissively through the air. “Big brothers are allowed to meddle for our siblings’ own good. This is how we do things.”
“As long as you know what you’re doing.” The last thing Nick needed this holiday season was for anyone to get their feelings hurt—especially if Holly was as nice as he remembered.
“She’ll never know. She’ll have fun with you, then go home confident and ready to get a killer new job and put herself back on the dating market after that E-Love disaster.” Ryan shuddered.
Nick went still. “E-Love disaster?”
“Don’t ask. Trust me, you guys will have fun hating Christmas together. It’s a win-win. Just don’t ask about IKEA.” Ryan grunted. “By the way, I’m assuming you want to ride with me and the wife in the morning?”
Nick wrinkled his nose. “And listen to you two lovebirds mush the whole way to Point Bluff? No, thanks.”
“Oh, come on.” Ryan’s ears turned scarlet. “It’s not that bad.”
Nick leveled him with a stare. “I heard you on the phone earlier at work. You literally used the word ‘mush’ and ‘lovebird’ before you hung up.”
Ryan released a defeated sigh. “Okay, fine. But I can dial it back for you.”
“I sincerely doubt that. It’d be like trying to dial back Tom Holland and Zendaya.”
Ryan raised a brow. “Bro, the fact you even know that scares me a little.”
Him, too. Nick winced as he leaned one shoulder against the closet frame. “Looks like I really need this vacation after all.”
“Seriously, I don’t mind driving. Plus, it’ll save you the gas money.”
He shook his head. “I like road trips.” More than that, he liked not being trapped somewhere, dependent on someone else for transportation.
And given his secret agenda for this whole holiday homecoming, the more independence he had in Point Bluff, the better.
“I’ll just meet up with you guys tomorrow at a gas station and follow you there. ”
Ryan shrugged. “Suit yourself. But you’ll miss Lydia’s epic I’m Coming Home for Christmas playlist she spent all day making.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“I’ll try to manage.” One thing was for sure—nary a Christmas song would play in his truck on the drive.
Ryan bounced on the suitcase again. “You and Holly really will be two peas in one anti-holiday pod.”
Nick shut his closet door. “What’s her reason for disliking Christmas, anyway?”
Ryan shook his head. “I didn’t tell her your reasons for being Scrooge McDuck, so I can’t tell you hers.”
Nick brushed at a rogue streak of dust on his dresser. “Fair enough.” Maybe that would give him and Holly something to talk about at this block party—especially since he wouldn’t be able to talk about his plans for the ranch.
“Ha!” Ryan threw his arms up as the zipper finally slid in place. He stood and performed a victory dance around the luggage.
“Um, Ryan?” Nick turned slowly, holding up a pair of navy dress pants. “I forgot to pack my slacks.”
“No.” Ryan’s face waxed pale and his arms fell to his sides. “No way. I’ll put them in Lydia’s purse. I’m not kidding.”
“ I’m kidding.” Nick tossed the pants back on his dresser. That’d been too easy. “I have a pair already packed. We’re good.”
Ryan sank to the floor and pulled his knees to his chest. “My life flashed before my eyes.”
“Let me guess.” Nick wrestled the heavy suitcase upright. “It was only six months long, because your life truly began when you got married?”
“Yeah, okay.” Ryan squinted up at him. “I see why you don’t want to ride with us.”
Nick shook his head as he wheeled his suitcase into the hallway. Hopefully he could count on Holly to commiserate with him not only about their shared dislike of the holiday but also about Ryan’s constant honeymooner status.
Though if Nick stopped to think about it long enough, he’d probably recognize that little ache in his chest as jealousy—which is why he wouldn’t stop at all.
Not until after his dream was realized.