Chapter 22 Evander
Evander
This magical little town might be my new favorite place in the entire world.
It’s a full-blown explosion of Christmas cheer for the massive, ridiculous tree-lighting ceremony.
Lights twinkle everywhere, casting soft halos in the early twilight.
Vintage carols drift from speakers on the lampposts, vendors hawk all the Christmas essentials, and the smell of roasted chestnuts and pine curls through the icy air.
Several people are even dressed as elves with pointy hats, curly-toed slippers, and jingling bells that chime with every step.
It’s perfect. Completely, utterly perfect.
I turn and, as expected, Logan’s scowling at everything like it personally offends him.
What I don’t expect is for Rose to be mirroring his expression. Her nose is pink from the cold, her brows drawn together as she stares at the crowd like she’s not sure what to do with all this joy. She looks… lost.
We’re strolling along the main street, passing booths lined with hot cocoa, cookies, and ornaments. Wyatt and Kai are admiring a display of handmade wreaths. Harlan’s busy glowering at the not-so-subtle photographers shadowing us.
I decide to make their job easier and give us the photos we need.
With a flourish worthy of a Hallmark movie, I saunter over to Rose and drape an arm around her shoulders.
She startles, blinking up at me. Then she spots the reporters and pastes on a smile.
It’s a lovely smile, practiced and polite.
Not the real one that makes her eyes crinkle and her curls bounce.
And for some reason, that hurts a little.
I like Candy with all her sharp little barbs, those wide brown eyes, and that halo of wild curls. I like the real her, not the version that has to pose for cameras.
Knowing this is all pretend leaves an unexpected pit in my chest, right where the holiday cheer should be.
“What’s the matter, Candy girl? You look like you’ve just swallowed a chunk of coal.”
She glances around, eyes darting over all the lights, the music, the people. “I don’t know. Christmas just never feels as important as people make it out to be. I’ve never had those giddy, excited feelings about the holiday. It all just seems like… a bit much.”
She shrugs, and a suspicion crawls up my spine.
“So you grew up and decided to become a humbug?”
She swats at me. “I’m not a humbug. And no, even when I was a kid it didn’t feel fun. My family wasn’t really into it, so I guess I just never was either.”
I frown down at her, studying her face until she notices.
“What’s that look for?” she asks, a defensive edge to her tone.
I thread my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck. To anyone watching, it’s intimate, me playing the part of her doting alpha. But it’s also selfish. I just want to touch her.
“Just wondering why I’m always so attracted to Scrooges,” I murmur.
A reluctant smile curves her lips, softening the tension in her shoulders. And for a heartbeat, I swear the faintest scent of peppermint—cool and creamy—curls through the air. Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
Strange.
“It’s official,” I declare, catching her hand and tugging her gently toward a stall overflowing with sparkly handmade Christmas decorations.
“What’s official?” she asks, glancing around like the glitter might attack her.
“My new mission this Christmas is to make sure that, by the end, you feel that holly-jolly holiday spirit.”
Her eyes widen, but then she laughs. It's a soft, surprised sound that slides straight into my chest and warms everything inside it.
“Good luck with that,” she sighs.
“First things first.” I gesture toward the ornaments. “Pick a decoration. My bet is you don’t have a single one in that house.”
She doesn’t correct me. She just looks around like she has no idea what to do.
I lean in until my lips brush the shell of her ear. “I tend to pick things that are shiny,” I whisper, hands resting on her waist.
She squeaks, then exhales, but doesn’t move away.
“They’re all shiny,” she stage-whispers back.
“Evander’s like a magpie that way,” Logan says, strolling up behind us. “Anything shiny and he has to make it his.”
Our eyes meet, and I almost sigh in relief. His gaze holds no jealousy, only heat. It's familiar and steady. He sees my interest in Rose, and I see his. There’s something thrilling in that understanding.
Logan plucks a silver snowflake hairclip with bells hanging from the end and turns to Rose. “May I?”
She swallows but nods. He gathers a handful of curls, twisting them loosely before sliding the clip into place. It sparkles against her hair like frost on a candle flame.
"That looks beautiful, Jingles," he says as the bells jingle in her hair.
Her chest rises and falls, each breath unsteady. He’s inches from her front. I’m pressed to her back. The air between us hums with tension, so thick it could catch fire. I bite my lip to keep from groaning. Logan’s eyes flick to mine. He knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“I’d definitely choose this,” he says, gesturing to the clip. “You look too beautiful to pass up.”
A blush stains her cheeks, and she looks away. My fingers twitch with the urge to bring her chin back toward us.
“I think I’m going with this,” she says quickly, picking up a multicolored star that shimmers iridescent in the light.
“Find something you like, Starlight?” Harlan’s deep voice rumbles behind us.
Rose ducks her head, smiling small. The air shifts, his presence filling every inch of space. He’s close enough that I can scent the oak and pine of him. Grounded and powerful. He runs a finger over the snowflake in her hair, and her lashes flutter. She bites her lip, and the air gets hotter still.
Harlan glances at Logan, something silent and dangerous passing between them. Then he clears his throat. “Looks like things are getting started at the tree. Wanna head over?”
"Yes," She replies and starts to reach for the clip, but Harlan catches her hand instead. “Logan will get it on our card.”
She protests, but he just leads her away.
And suddenly, there’s a Candy-shaped hole between me and Logan.
He steps forward, closing it.
“What do you think?” I ask, meeting his pale blue eyes.
They’re full of the same want that’s crawling under my skin.
“I think I’ve never wanted anything between us before,” he murmurs, “and now I can’t imagine anything else.”
His arm slides around my waist. His other hand grips my jaw. The kiss that follows is molten. It's hot and deep, his tongue sweeping into my mouth like he owns it. By the time he pulls back, I’m shaking with need.
If it weren’t for the crowd, I’d drag him somewhere dark and private and press him to a wall.
Logan pays the vendor, and we step out arm in arm. Ahead, Rose walks beside Harlan, their heads close, Kai trailing behind. Wyatt lingers farther back, watching Kai with an expression that could break hearts.
I shake my head, sighing dramatically. “Are those two ever going to get it together?”
Maybe, with a little help from our new omega.