Chapter 22 Special Christmas Advisor #2
But—wait. Is he wearing…? I tilt my head, studying his sweater, or as much as I can see of it. “Rowan. What is that?”
He reaches for the lapels of his peacoat. “This? Just a coat.”
“No. Under it.”
“Oh, check this out. My teammates got it for me,” he says, amused.
He parts the coat, and I burst out laughing, pointing at him. “You’re wearing a Christmas sweater.”
Not just any Christmas sweater. It’s raunchy and ridiculous—Santa kneeling by a tree, setting down a gift, his pants riding low enough to reveal a black thong. He mentioned something about Santa’s ass and a thong the other night. I guess he meant this sweater.
“This is…so not you,” I say.
“Maybe it’s the new me,” he says. “The Evergreen Falls me.”
I’m not sold, even though I do like this side of him. “Really? You’re trying on a whole new personality for December? Soon you’re going to tell me you want a pear tart.”
“That won’t happen. But you can’t fault a guy for trying, can you? I’m just trying to get into the spirit. You did say I should try harder at dating.”
Maybe he’s turning over a new mistletoe leaf. “I like the sound of that,” I say—hesitant, but hopeful.
“Also, I got you a gingerbread coffee.” He nods toward the bakery.
“You did?”
“The flavored coffee. You like it, right?”
“Yes, I do. But how did you remember?”
I only drank that once with him—the day we went to the Christmas tree farm. “You told me it’s your favorite,” he says.
“It is,” I say, touched.
“And to think, we’re not even on our practice date yet.”
“Speaking of, why don’t we just go to the Candy Cane Diner tonight?”
With a smile that’s damn near dazzling—is this Rowan? Does he smile like that? With so much sunshine?—he says, “Sounds perfect.”
He guides me back inside with a hand on my elbow.
When we reach the counter, Aurora beams from behind it, blonde hair framing her fair complexion in soft, beachy waves, clipped back on the side with delicate silver barrettes in the shape of mistletoe.
“So good to see you, Isla. I didn’t realize you were the Christmas angel Rowan was talking about. ”
“Christmas angel?”
“He said he was ordering for someone special. And I have your very special Christmas coffee,” she says in her pretty French accent.
“Oh, that sounds great,” I say, still confused but also delighted.
Rowan parks an elbow against the display case stuffed with yuletide logs, fruitcakes, pear tarts, and all sorts of Christmas cookies.
“I was just telling her how much you love Christmas and how I wanted you to have something special,” Rowan says, casual but cool as Aurora slides over a white ceramic mug painted with tiny Christmas lights.
He reaches for it. “It’s yours. The mug. I picked it up for you at the Mistletoe Emporium,” Rowan says. “Made by a local artist, and I know your favorite color is…Christmas lights.”
Who is this man? Giving me Christmas gifts. Ordering my favorite coffee. Wearing a Santa sweater that’s irreverent in a way that actually makes sense for him.
It’s like he’s trying to Christmas-seduce me.
“You’re very jolly today,” I say, both thrown off and totally charmed as I happily take the offered mug while Aurora gives me a smile and a wiggle of her brows.
I don’t even have a second to acknowledge it—it’s like she’s saying you go girl—since Rowan’s adding, “I figured you’ve been working hard—matching me and everyone else. You deserve a treat. All your favorite things.”
“Helping is one of my favorite things. So I’d be glad to help you, Coach Bishop,” I say, still a little dazed, as Aurora calls out across the bakery, “And a gingerbread latte for Oliver.”
Rowan’s jaw tightens. His eyes darken. He grabs my elbow again, but I should at least say hello. Be polite and all.
Oliver heads to the counter, leaving his paperback behind on the table. It looks well-worn and loved.
He flashes me a warm smile, nodding to his drink, then mine in my hand. “Gingerbread. Someone has excellent taste,” he says.
Rowan’s eyes turn nearly black. He huffs out a breath like a bull.
“Gingerbread is the unsung hero of the holidays,” I say.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Oliver says, then nods. “Good to see you again, Isla. And this is your—”
“Friend,” I say quickly as Oliver turns to Rowan. I don’t want anyone to think I’m dating a client. That would be terrible for my business.
“Nice to meet you.” He sticks out a hand toward Rowan. “Oliver Abernathy. Evergreen Falls local and gingerbread aficionado.”
Rowan growls, then takes Oliver’s palm. And oh…is that a wince from Oliver? Like Rowan grabbed it too hard? My gaze swings down and I’m not a handshake expert, but that looks like quite a squeeze.
“Rowan Bishop. Lover of Christmas sweaters and cocoa,” he says, following suit with the intros.
“That is indeed quite a jumper,” Oliver says, his blue eyes drifting to Santa’s ass crack on Rowan’s chest. “I’ll have to step up my holiday game.”
“Good idea,” Rowan bites out. That sounds more like the Rowan I know.
“Thanks. I’ll make a note to scour my closet later for something as dashing,” Oliver says, then nods to Aurora. “Thanks for the gingerbread latte. Looking forward to the meeting.”
“Enjoy, Oliver,” she says as he returns to his table.
Rowan’s jaw is clenched when I turn back to him, but he seems to fight off the irritation. “Sit with me before the meeting?”
“Sure,” I say, taking the mug and joining the man in the raunchy Christmas sweater at his table.
I take a sip of the coffee and try to convince myself that Rowan’s show of holiday spirit doesn’t mean anything.
That anyone could’ve remembered a coffee order. That the sweater is just a joke. That picking out a mug from the Mistletoe Emporium isn’t special. It’s simply festive, and he’s trying to be festive AF after his cookie swap sabotage last week.
But when Rowan looks at me, that intensity in his eyes has returned. There’s a heat in them, too, matched by sparks of my own in my chest. My whole body warms from the way he looks at me.
Briefly, I glance upward, experiencing the strangest, oddest hope—that I’ll find mistletoe hanging above us.
I can’t kiss him again in public though.
I know that. Truly I do. But I’m disappointed not to find the poisonous plant.
I take another drink, like the coffee will hide these feelings.