Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
I gazed at myself in the full-length mirror and a dinosaur gazed back.
Specifically, it was an ugly Christmas sweater featuring a T.rex decorated with ornaments that said “Tree Rex” along the top.
I looked utterly ridiculous, but at least it brought a smile to my face.
After my failed meeting with Nick, I’d reported and deleted TheChristmasKiller’s comment.
Right before I left the office for the night, I had a response.
The account “had not violated any of the terms and conditions” and would face no consequences.
Of course. Whoever checked out my report—whether human or bot—probably laughed at me for reporting a comment about a snowman.
They see things a million times worse every day.
I’d been in a mood ever since. Even pizza for dinner didn’t help.
But putting on this ridiculous sweater did.
I paired it with black fleece-lined leggings and tall boots.
I hadn’t been to a bar in ages. And if anything could turn a day around, it was a bar filled with people wearing sweaters like this.
Even though I was mainly going for work, I was suddenly looking forward to it. I could use a bit of fun.
By the time I got to the Silver Bell, the party was already rocking.
The bar was lined with garland, while colored lights traced the giant mirror on the wall behind it, making the rows of liquor bottles glow.
The playlist seemed to be an upbeat mix of contemporary holiday music.
The specials on the chalkboard advertised drinks like Spiked Eggnog, Grinch Punch, Sugar Cookie Martini, and a Jingle Bowl, whatever that was.
I developed a hangover just thinking about it.
I pulled out my phone and snapped some quick photos.
The crowd was pretty thick and everyone had dressed the part, so I was sure to get some fun shots.
I wove my way past tables and a stage with a banner proclaiming the future winner of the ugliest sweater.
I framed the shot of the empty stage with the banner behind and clicked.
Then I immediately cross-posted the photo across our socials with the caption, “This could be you! #UglySweaterWinner.”
Strolling the perimeter, I captured more shots of decorations and half-drunk, happy patrons. The sweaters ranged from boring to hilarious. One guy in full, zip-up Christmas footie pajamas seemed to grab the most attention, but technically that wasn’t a sweater. I’d leave that debate to the judges.
A head of gorgeous long curls caught my eye at the bar.
Angelica from the inn was perched on a barstool and sipping from a wineglass.
I wanted to make my way over and thank her for leaving the sweater in my room.
But then I noticed she was somewhat busy.
A man in a bright red sweater leaned down and whispered something in her ear.
She threw back her head in laughter, flipping her long hair over one shoulder and batting her eyes in the process.
She swiveled on the stool, saw me, and her smile wilted.
The man turned to see who she was looking at.
My breath caught in my throat when I saw who it was.
Aaron.
In a light-up Christmas sweater.
His face brightened, and he came toward me, abandoning a now-dejected Angelica.
As he got closer, I was able to see the detail in his sweater.
It featured a Christmas tree lit with actual, flickering LED lights and the words “Get Lit.” Absolutely glorious.
The first time I saw him not wearing a suit and he was in this getup. I nearly hyperventilated with laughter.
“Hey,” he said, sidling up to me. “What’s so funny?”
I could only push out a few words between gasps of laughter. “You … The sweater …”
He looked around the room dramatically. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but everyone is wearing one.”
“I know,” I said with a smirk. “But you, Aaron Chambers, are not everyone. I’ve never seen you in anything but a suit.”
He puffed up his chest. “Well, get used to it. If I make Christmasville my home, I’m going to be buying a lot more casual wear.”
His confidence surprised me. “Are things looking better with the land deal?”
He tilted his hand back and forth. “Negotiations ramped up today. So it’s starting to look good.”
I motioned with my chin. “Speaking of looking good, Angelica over there seems mighty disappointed that you left her side.”
“You know her, right? From the inn!” He had to raise his voice a bit over the music.
“Yeah, I know her. But she doesn’t give me the goo-goo eyes she was giving you.” I wagged my eyebrows suggestively.
“Really?” he said, blushing. “I just thought she was being friendly.”
“Nah,” I said with a shake of my head. “Believe me. I can tell the difference. And,” I added in a tantalizing tone of voice, “her sweater says she’s on the naughty list.”
He chuckled. “That’s a flattering notion, but I have other ideas.”
I had a feeling his other idea was me, but I still didn’t know how I felt about it.
“So how are you powering that thing?” I pointed at his sweater as the lights flickered and danced.
He reached underneath, baring a quick glimpse of a well-toned stomach, and pulled out a small black square connected to the sweater by a thin cord. “There’s a battery pack! Isn’t it cool?”
“Very cool,” I agreed with a smile.
He tucked the battery back under his sweater and took a sip from a martini glass filled with dark pink liquid.
I giggled. “Are you drinking a cosmo?”
He put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Absolutely not. It’s a Santa Clausmopolitan.”
Now I was laughing all over again. I had no idea he had this silly side to him. It was nice seeing this looser, more casual Aaron.
A confused expression took over his buzzed glow. “There’s a woman over there staring at you like you drained her 401K in a Ponzi scheme.”
Interesting metaphor for Angelica’s disappointment, I thought. But as I glanced over my shoulder, I saw that it wasn’t Angelica. Susie glowered at me from her position, perched at the end of the bar. Her sweater featured a giant candy cane and the words “Suck It.”
“Ugh, Susie.” I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.
“She’s an attractive woman, but that sweater is kind of … aggressive.” Aaron looked bewildered. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing!” I said, indignant. “She’s just extremely jealous, and she thinks I have something going on with her ex-boyfriend.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Bookstore guy?”
“Ellison, yes.” I could feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. I risked another glance and she was still there, openly staring. “I’m not dating anyone right now, but even if I was it would be none of her business.”
Aaron’s brow furrowed. “She does seem a bit intense.”
That was an understatement. I thought about when she cornered me at the bakery to say all of those bad things about Ellison.
I didn’t buy her fake concern for one moment.
Especially now that she was sending eye daggers at me across the bar for no reason.
A mentally balanced person would at least try to hide their unrelenting hatred of another person in public.
I wondered again if she’d been the person in the maze. She could even be TheChristmasKiller commenter. An involuntary shudder shook my shoulders. I suddenly didn’t want to be here anymore and started eyeing the exit.
Aaron caught my vibe quickly. “Do you want me to walk you home?”
I really did. But I didn’t want him to feel obligated.
“I don’t want to make you leave the party early,” I said, giving him an out.
He put down his glass and batted at the air. “It’s fine. I’m ready to leave. And I don’t like the idea of you walking alone at night with everything that’s been going on.”
I didn’t like that idea either. And I supposed I had enough photos. I didn’t need to stick around longer and wait for Susie to confront me again.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said.
Aaron led the way through the crowd to the exit.
When he pushed open the door, the cold hit my face like a slap.
I hadn’t brought my coat because the Silver Bell wasn’t exactly a coat check kind of establishment, and I didn’t feel like taking my chances.
But the cold air was a relief compared to the stifling heat of the bar. And it wasn’t too far of a walk.
“Main Street or the creek path?” Aaron asked.
I gave him a look, and he nodded with a sharp laugh. “Main Street it is.”
Even though it was getting late, the road was surprisingly empty.
Other than the bar, everything else was closed by now.
I was used to walking around earlier in the evening when the shops and restaurants were still busy.
The clicking of my boots on the asphalt echoed, along with the scuffing of Aaron’s shoes, and … something else?
I stopped and turned sharply. Shadows stretched from doorways along the street, but I couldn’t see anyone.
“What’s wrong?” Aaron asked.
“I thought I heard footsteps.”
He looked around, squinting into the distance. “Other people could be walking home too. It doesn’t have to be anything nefarious.”
I wrapped my arms tightly around my middle, suddenly feeling the cold. “Yeah, I’ve just had a couple of bad experiences lately.”
His eyes darkened. “Like what?”
“I don’t want to get into it,” I said and began walking again, faster this time. “Let’s just get back to the inn.”
“Wait.” He put a hand on my arm, stopping me. “You know you can trust me and tell me what’s going on, right?”
“Yes, I do. I just want to get back. I’m freezing.”
We turned down the side street, almost back to the inn now. I did feel safe with Aaron by my side. Which could have been a bit foolish. I mean, how did I know he wasn’t the killer? All I had was a gut feeling that I could trust him.
But before I knew it, he was holding the front door of the inn open for me, and we were back inside. Safe from the cold. Safe from whoever would want to harm us.
The lobby was dim and empty, the fireplace dark, Grace’s overnight sign replacing her at the desk.
“I’ll walk you to your door,” Aaron said. A statement, not a question.
I didn’t even know which floor he was on and how far his room was from mine, but I appreciated the door-to-door service. The lightness of the sweater party had left me, and my uneasiness from earlier had returned.
We climbed the stairs and padded down the carpeted hall until I stopped in front of my room.
“Thanks,” I said. “I really appreciate you making sure I got home alright.”
He gave me a lazy smile, the buzz of alcohol still present in the shiny gleam of his eyes. “Of course.”
“And sorry for making you leave early.” I pointed at his sweater. “You could have won.”
He gazed down, flicking off a stray piece of lint. “I’m pretty sure footie pajama guy had it in the bag, but thanks for your vote of confidence.”
“Technically, footie pajamas are not a sweater,” I pointed out.
“Hmm.” He pursed his lips. “A controversy. Maybe we should head back.”
“Yeah, right,” I said with a little laugh.
Suddenly, his head dipped low, and his mouth closed over mine.
Stunned, I didn’t move at first. But my initial shock gave way to curiosity, and I kissed him back.
I could taste the sweetness of liquor on his mouth.
He was gentle and warm. But even though our lips were moving together, something was off.
I pulled back and looked up into his eyes.
I’d gotten to really like Aaron. If he stayed in Christmasville, I wanted him in my life.
But not in this way. I’d been uncertain before, but I knew for sure now.
The spark wasn’t there. Even though he didn’t feel the same way, he saw it in my eyes. A painful silence stretched between us.
“That Susie woman is right to worry,” he said softly. “There is something going on with you and bookstore guy.”
“Aaron …” I wanted to tell him that he’d grown to mean a lot to me. That I truly wanted to have him as a friend. That this had nothing to do with Ellison. But it sounded like such a line.
His eyes took on a faraway look, and his expression morphed into something that surprised me. Not anger. More like … pity.
He shook his head sadly. “You’re choosing the wrong guy.” Then he turned and walked away.
I stood, rooted to the spot in confusion. Why had his eyes filled with concern?
Did he know something I didn’t?