Chapter 5 #2
She rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here?” Typically, the Hawthornes sat out the big holiday festivities.
Logan laughed. “I signed Soren up for that Raiders of the Lost Heart thing Jocelyn’s running. He’s gonna murder me when he finds out.”
“Uh, yeah, he is.”
He snickered and popped a honey-roasted nut into his mouth. “Where’s Bodhi?”
“Off with Astrid.”
“You free for the night?”
“I’m his ride.”
“Oh. Bummer.” He pulled her toward a line for hot cider. “I guess we’ll just have to make the best of the Christmas cookies and chaos while I have you.”
Of all the Hawthornes, Logan seemed to process his mother’s absence the easiest. Maybe because he was the youngest and therefore got away with actually crying when he was sad, unlike his older brothers, who were encouraged to bottle up their grief and never let it show.
Townspeople bustled around the square as kids darted past in brightly colored hats and scarves. The playlist blasting from the speakers shifted to a less polished version of holiday music sung by the local choir, which was mostly comprised of holiday enthusiasts and longtime carolers.
Now that the speeches were over, Mayor Locke held court by the bonfire, probably retelling the time Larry the Lobstah’s claw short-circuited the whole harbor.
“How long are you sticking around?” she asked Logan as they moved up in line.
“Not long. Too many humans. You want to hang out after you drop Bodhi off at home?”
She raised a brow. “Depends what you’re offering.”
“We could watch one of those weird old Christmas movies you like. The ones where nothing happens, but everyone contemplates the meaning of snow and somehow the crooner’s the hero.”
She chuckled. “So basically every movie I’ve ever loved.”
“Exactly.”
“Perhaps.” It was their turn in line and she waited as Logan ordered two hot ciders.
“Here we go a’ wassailing. Cheers.”
He handed her a cup, and the nutmeg-spiced steam warmed her face.
Sticking by her side, Logan led them down the main drag. “So, what do you say? Candles. Blankets. Fire. Socks are mandatory, of course. And I’ll insist the phone goes off.”
The boys always gave her grief about her phone, but she liked to keep it on at all times in case Bodhi needed something—not that calls ever went through in their part of town.
“I don’t know.”
“Please.” He pouted. “I have two new puzzles for approval—a nature scene and one full of cuddly woodland creatures.”
She shook her head, grinning. “You know my weak spot for puzzles.”
“Yassssss!” he hissed victoriously like an evil mastermind and sipped his cider.
“Fine. After I take Bodhi home, I’ll meet you at your place in an hour.”
“I’ll have the movie cued up and the good fuzzy socks waiting.”
By the time she dropped her dad off and got to Logan’s it was almost ten. She’d regret staying up late tomorrow, but old Christmas movies were her weakness.
She walked in without knocking and slipped off her shoes. “Logan?”
“In here.” He appeared with a bowl of popcorn, already in his pajama pants and hoodie. “Classic holiday movie or heartwarming drama?”
“Oooh, tough choice.” She debated for a moment. “The classic.”
“Really? I was almost positive you’d pick the drama.”
“It’s the first movie of the season, and not even December yet. We don’t want to peak too soon.”
“Gotcha.” He cued up White Christmas as Wren made herself comfortable under a blanket on the couch. Logan was a cuddler, so she didn’t find it strange when he sat beside her and snuggled close.
She nibbled on popcorn as the opening scene unfolded. Later, when the female leads performed their musical number, Wren smiled. “We should choreograph this for our next town fundraiser.”
“Only if I get to hold a big blue feather fan like that.”
“Obviously.”
Within minutes, Wren was utterly charmed. “Bing was the original golden retriever.”
“No comment.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “Fine, who do you find more attractive, the blonde or the brunette?”
“Hands down, the brunette.”
“Because she’s the curvier one?”
“No, because the blonde looks like she could mess a man up. I don’t trust her.”
Wren took the bowl of popcorn back and giggled. “Can you imagine someone just being like, ‘Hey, let’s go to Vermont,’ and you actually go?”
“We could go right now. It would probably be more entertaining than this movie.”
She elbowed him in the side.
When the characters reached the inn in Vermont, Wren sighed. “Tell me this doesn’t scream Hideaway Harbor.”
“Meh, there’s not enough coastal charm. Throw a few lobstah traps in there, more alcohol, and a sea breeze, and then we’re talking.”
The general appeared. “He reminds me a little of Magnus.”
“Yeah, right. Maybe if Magnus discovered emotions.”
“Your dad has feelings, Logan.”
“Agree to disagree. Besides, Magnus would never allow Christmas music. Too much joy.”
By the final scene, she was nearly asleep. Or maybe she had already drifted off. Logan pulled the covers over her and shut off the lights. “You need anything?”
He’d set her up with a pillow from his bed and put a glass of water on the coffee table for her. “I’m good. Thanks, babe.”
He kissed his fingers and touched her forehead. “’Night, Wren.”
She turned into the cushions and fell right to sleep.