Chapter Five
Evie
I haven’t seen Cole in nearly six months but the second I hear his voice, I’m brought back to all the moments of mischief we used to get into together.
Sneaking candy, writing invisible ink notes, and staying up all night on Christmas Eve to wait for Santa.
He’s the one and only member of my family that’s always seen me for exactly who I am and loved me for it, not in spite of it.
“Holy Christmas bells. What are you doing here?”
“The wedding.” He says it as though it’s perfectly normal to disappear for months on end with no calls or texts then reappear out of nowhere for a family dinner.
“Okay,” I tip up onto my toes and lean into him for a hug as Tess disappears into the back shelves to give us space, “but where have you been? I haven’t heard from you in months. I thought something awful happened. The cops came by asking questions, but they didn’t give me any information.”
“And Mom? What’s she thinking?”
I shrug. “She said you were probably off being a loner again. That whenever you get like this, we just need to let you be,” my breath catches, “but I was worried Cole! Why were the police looking for you?”
He exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, and I know without any more questions what all this is about, but I want to hear it from him. “Yeah, I know. Sorry, Evie. Things got… complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
He hesitates, eyes flicking toward the front of the store. “I’ll explain later. I just wanted to stop by and see if you were interested in grabbing dinner. Something low-key.”
Before I can answer, I hear movement behind me. Heavy boots and a shift in the air.
Nick.
I turn, and he’s standing there like a statue, eyes locked on Cole. His jaw is tight, his shoulders squared, the costume he went to change still in place. “Everything okay, Nick?”
“Nick?” My brother smiles and holds out his hand. “We haven’t met yet. Are you two dating?”
I should tell my brother the truth. I’m reserving lying for the wedding and the rest of the family, not the one guy I trust, but Nick takes the lead before I get a chance to decide.
“We are.” He clears his throat and attempts to fold his arms across his chest but the fabric from the coat tears a little in the back as he stands straighter. “And you are?”
Oh damn. I guess possessiveness comes with the purchase. Why do I kind of like it?
“Fuck, Evie.” My brother laughs. “You don’t even talk about me?” He reaches his hand out for Nick’s. “I’m Evie’s older brother, Cole. Been out of town on business, but I’m thinking maybe I’m back for a while. Holidays make you miss home. I just invited Evie to dinner tonight. You should join.”
“Oh,” I interject before everything gets awkward, “Nick and I already had plans tonight.”
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other,” Nick adds, lifting the guilt I was feeling off my shoulders as he squeezes me softly against his chest, “but we’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow, right?”
“Of course. I get it. I can’t just roll back into town and expect everyone to make time for me.
Evie’s got her own life now.” He says the words sarcastically as though he doesn’t mean a word of what he’s saying.
“You mind if I get a quick moment alone with her, though?” He grins.
“We need to iron out a few quick details before the family drama tomorrow.”
Nick doesn’t blink. He stares toward Cole as though he’s glitching. Also, I can’t figure for the life of me what Cole has to say to me that he can’t say in front of Nick.
“Sorry,” I say, turning back to the giant beside me. “This’ll just take a second.”
Nick doesn’t speak. His gaze lingers on Cole a beat too long before he turns, broad shoulders squared, spine straight. He moves with a quiet intensity, boots thudding against the floor as he heads for the broom closet.
“Shit,” my brother groans. “That dude’s intense. Doesn’t seem like your type.”
“My type?” I offer a playful smile. “We aren’t discussing my type when you haven’t told me where you’ve been for six months. Are you in some kind of trouble, Cole? Is this about the thing at the bar—”
“Stop.” Cole runs his hand back through his messy dark hair and leans back against the bookshelf. “It’s Christmas, and it’s Shell-bell’s wedding. I’m not here to stir shit up. I just wanted to see my favorite sister.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You tell us both that, don’t you?”
“I love both my sisters. Is that a crime?”
“No, but something else you did is. Why were the police asking about you?”
Cole glances up and exhales before rubbing his hand across his jaw, scratching at his beard. “Your security guard is coming back. I better get out of here before he stares a hole through my head. You want to catch up at breakfast or something?”
“You going to tell me anything real or just question my life choices?”
“Probably the second one.” He laughs for a second at his own joke. “Love you, baby sis. Tomorrow morning at the diner?”
I scrunch up my nose. “It’ll have to be early. I need time to get ready for the wedding.”
“That works. See you at seven a.m. on the dot. Our usual.” My brother leans in for a hug, waves goodbye to Nick, and slides back out into the street before disappearing into the swirl of snow and headlights outside. The bell above the door jingles softly behind him.
I stand there for a beat, watching the empty doorway as I try to figure out what to say to my brother that’ll fix all his problems. I’m not big on tough love but my quiet jokes about starting therapy really don’t seem to be doing the trick.
Nick steps up beside me, his presence heavy and grounding. “He ran out of here in a hurry.”
“You spooked him.” I grin, tugging my coat on over the reindeer sweater. “What’s up with the tough guy thing?”
“Tough guy thing?” Nick narrows his brows and pushes open the front door, letting in a gust of blustering snow.
“Yeah.” I pass beside him, and we step out into the street. “You were so serious and intense, like you were sizing him up.”
Nick pulls his key fob out of his pocket and clicks toward a black truck parked on the side of the road. “Just naturally cautious. That’s all. You’re mine for the weekend and I’m protective. Don’t read into it. It’s natural.”
“Protective like a Doberman.” I snort at my own joke as he helps me up into the truck and makes his way around to the other side.
“A Doberman? No. I’m thinking something way cooler. Maybe a wolf or a big bear.” He starts the engine, and it roars low and steady as the dashboard lights cast a soft glow onto his hardened face.
I swear the man could be carved from mountain rock. He shifts the truck into drive and focuses on the road ahead as snow falls heavily. There’s no doubt about it. This man is intense. Intense and capable of commanding any room with a single look… or with a Santa outfit a few sizes too tight.
It’s then that I realize I know nothing else about him.
He’s the same dude I thought might have murdered a family of circus travelers two hours ago.
The same guy that’s likely done jail time for something involving an out-of-control motorcycle gang.
The same guy that’s probably got a warrant for his arrest in three countries.
The truck rolls forward, tires crunching over the snow that’s fallen in the street, and I swallow the sudden lump in my throat.
Dinner. It’s just dinner.
I’m just going to dinner with a stranger.
That’s all this is.
Dinner.
I should ask questions. I want to know what he does, how long he’s done it, and if he has a family or kids. God, the man could have children.
I scan his hand for a wedding band again, but that doesn’t mean anything. Lots of men strip off their rings the second they leave the house. Not good men, but some men.
I clear my throat, trying to sound as casual as possible as I say, “So, besides being hot Santa, what other skills are you good at?”
Wow. I should really socialize more.
His face turns up in a half-smile, but his gaze never leaves the road. “Really? Sounds like I’m in a job interview. Are you looking for personal skills or professional?”
I shrug, trying to sound like I’m not desperate to know every detail about him. “Whatever… just making conversation.”
“Okay, well, for conversation purposes, I’m good at everything.”
I roll my eyes and arch a brow. “Really? Everything?”
“Confidence is a skill too. It takes work to believe in yourself as much as I do.”
“Oh God.” I glance out the window as though his inflated ego is annoying me, but the squeeze between my thighs tells another story. “You must be a hit at parties.”
“Bet I would be, but I don’t do that shit. I have a strict no peopling policy.”
“Seriously?” I glance toward him as though we’re the only two introverts on Earth.
“Same. Tess is always trying to drag me out. I feel like such a bad friend ‘cause most of the time I just want to sink into the couch, eat my snacks, and do some cozy little hobby that makes me feel like I’m productive.”
Nick hums in agreement. “What’s your cozy little hobby?”
“It changes regularly.” I nod, noticing shoppers pass with holiday bags stuffed to the brim.
“Sometimes I love to crochet or paint. Other times I just want to read. I regularly go through baking phases, though. Do you like pumpkin rolls? I make this really, really good version with a cinnamon cream cheese filling.”
“That sounds dangerous.” He sort of whistles out the words and I glance toward him expecting laughter, but instead he looks pretty serious. “My mom taught me how to make jam when I was young. So, I do that.”
I blink. “You do what? You make jam?”
“Yeah. Strawberry, raspberry, rhubarb. Sometimes I mix it up and add peppers. It’s relaxing. You stir, you wait, then you get something sweet.”
I stare at him as we pull up beside Mullet’s bar. “You, the human embodiment of a gun safe, spend your Sunday’s making jam?”
“Sometimes Saturday too.” He kills the engine and glances toward me. “Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my reputation.”
I think I’m smiling, but I’m not sure. My brain has short-circuited. Maybe it’s his gaze, maybe it’s the warm, deep tone in his voice, or maybe it’s the massive shoulders and rippling muscles that pop through his shirt when he moves, but he has my head reeling.
The worst part is, he’s not even trying. He’s just sitting there calm and solid, and I can’t stop thinking about how those big rough hands would feel on my skin, on my neck, on my…
Oh God, I need to get a grip! Focus, girl!
“Well,” I say, turning away from him, “I’d hate to ruin the whole rugged loner who doesn’t make jam reputation you’ve got going for ya.”
He gives a small smile. “Appreciate that.”
My heart squeezes as warmth fills me all the way to my fingertips, and my palms ache to reach out for him.
What the hell is happening to me?