Chapter 13 Anna
THIRTEEN
ANNA
“They’re looking at me weird.” For the first time, ever, someone other than my dad or me drives the Road Runner, and even with Dean’s injured arm, he manages the gearstick smoothly, pulling into a space surprisingly close to the park in the middle of town.
Fairy lights dangle all over, filling the night sky with a rainbow of glittering color, and children race through the shadows while their parents waver between their desire for a fun evening and their desire not to lose their kids on a bitterly cold evening.
An established Douglas fir spears thirty feet toward the clouds, creating the town’s centerpiece and the perfect canvas for the countless lights strung in preparation for tonight.
It’s beautiful out there, even before the tree is lit, but all I can focus on is the soft leather of the seat beneath my butt, and the violent trembling of my hands. The vicious thrumming of my heart. The slick of anxiety swirling in my belly.
I focus on the latter most of all.
“Everyone knows the sound of my car.” Shivering, I peek across in the dark and draw an aching breath. “They know I’m here, so now they’re staring.”
“Nah. They’re looking at me.” He cuts the engine and twists to meet my eyes. “Some strange motherfucker is driving Anna Maxwell’s Road Runner. They’d rather assume I stole it than accept you handed the keys over.”
“So maybe we should turn around and go home.” My throat tightens.
My heart pounds. Goddddd, my entire soul shrivels.
“I left these people in the lurch four years ago, Dean. Total bitch move. I forced them to scramble and pick up the pieces I’d tossed in the trash. They probably don’t even want me here.”
“Hell they don’t.” He leans closer, unsnapping my belt and pinning me in place with a hand on my chin. “This is your festival, beautiful. This whole thing belongs to you and your dad. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”
“But—”
“Nick told me he’s playing Santa this year. He’s been here all day, listening to wishes and promising miracles.” He presses a gentle, barely-there kiss on the corner of my lips. “That’s a long-ass day tending to little kids with sticky hands and flirty moms.”
I cough out a nervous laugh. “I hope Mel’s handling those bitches like a boss. That’s her man.”
“I’m sure she’s got it under control.” Another kiss.
“And now it’s alllllmost eight o’clock. Nick’s putting his Santa hat away and swapping his fifteen-XL pants for something that fits a little better.
He intends to romance his fiancée one last time before they say their vows, which is…
” He waits for a beat, grinning. “When?”
“Tomorrow. Oh my gosh.” I press my palm to my belly. “Mel’s getting married tomorrow.”
“Mmhm. So come on.” Pulling away, he unsnaps his seatbelt and pushes his door open. Slamming it shut, he jogs around the hood and opens my side.
Offering his good hand, his smile notches higher when our palms touch. “Nick told me they’ll meet us on the north side of the park.”
“I feel like you and Nick are entirely too friendly, considering you’ve only just met.”
“Too friendly?” He tugs me to my feet and drapes his arm over my shoulders, tucking me comfortably against his side as though we’ve been doing so for eons already.
“Babe, I haven’t touched his ass. Not even once.
” He closes my door and leads me off the road, onto crackling grass.
“Nick’s a decent dude. I like that we get along, since he’s marrying Mel, and I’m head over heels in love with Mel’s bestie. ”
I roll my eyes and step out from under his arm. “Shut up.”
“I will never shut up,” he teases, snagging my hand and tugging me back, but this time, he wraps my arm around his and makes us appear entirely sibling-appropriate. “He’s so mad he doesn’t get to fuck you.”
“Nick?” I glance around the park swelling with young families and festive with Christmas music. Coffee thermoses are everywhere, and the scent of hot chocolate lingers in the air. Frowning, I bring my focus back to Dean. “What the hell are you talking about? He’s only ever had eyes for Mel—”
“Not Nick,” he snickers. “Detective DoopDoop.” He pats my hand and leads me directly toward the waiting trio.
Mel, Nick, and a narrow-eyed Carter.
Dean smiles the smile of a man who doesn’t give a damn if he goes to prison for a jewelry heist, broadening his shoulders and turning his walk to a swagger as we approach. “Park looks great, huh?”
“It looks fantastic!” Mel’s eyes grow impossibly wide as she stares into mine and conducts a telepathic conversation.
I mean, I don’t actually hear her thoughts, but I’ve known her long enough to know the words booming in her mind.
GIVE ME THE GOSSIP! “I’m so happy you came, Anna. This event grows bigger each year.”
“Mmhm.” How close can a sister snuggle into her brother’s side before it becomes weird? “I’m glad the committee continued this even when I lost interest. Everyone deserves a lit tree each year.”
“They sure do.” Too impatient for subtleties, she lunges my way and grabs my hand. “There’s a coffee van over…” She waves nowhere in particular. “Come for a walk with me.”
I look to Dean. “Uh…”
“I’m fine, Counselor.” He taps my backside, too sneaky to be caught by the eagle-eyed detective. “I’m happy to chill with my new best friend till you get back.” And because he enjoys confrontation, he angles toward Nick, completely cutting Carter out of the conversation.
“Let’s go.” Mel yanks me away, traps my arm with hers, and leans until our heads practically touch.
“How the hell can you be near Carter—who thinks you and Dean are something you’re not—while also being near Dean—who looks at you in an entirely non-sisterly way?
Jesus,” she huffs. “The sex pheromones are stifling. And he got you to come out tonight. That’s… ” She shakes her head. “It’s…”
“A Christmas miracle?” I snort. “Are we actually getting cocoa?”
“Yeah, I’m cold, and it’s—”
“This way.” I tug her to the left and lead her toward the line of trucks just begging for their last-minute windfall before business slows again. “What were you and Carter talking about?”
“He was asking about Dean.” She releases an unhappy scoff. “Asked what we thought of him, and if we trusted him. All that sorta crap.”
“What?” I jerk her to a stop and search her eyes. “He asked if you trusted him?”
“Mmhm. There’s something off about that dude.” She speaks in a deep, Carter-esque tone. “How does he just turn up outta nowhere and everyone’s cool with it? I didn’t even know Anna had a brother.”
“What did you say?”
“I went all in, Hamilton Family Gaslighting 101.” She allows her voice to rise an octave or two. “Oh my gosh, Carter! Dean? How didn’t you know about him? He lives away, but he visits at least once a year. Isn’t he just the sweetest, silliest guy you ever met?”
“Anna?” An older woman, one who spends all year long crocheting hats to donate at Christmastime, latches onto my arm and brings me around with surprising strength. Her eyes glisten and dance under dangling fairy lights. “Oh my goodness, sweetheart. I’m so happy you’re here tonight.”
“Aw. Thank you.” I allow her to tug me closer and place a feather-soft kiss on my cheek. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. “It’s good to see you, Mrs. Pearson. Are you well?”
“I am.” Damn the old bat; she swipes a glistening tear from beneath her eye. “Very well, thank you. The committee worked tirelessly this year to string the tree. Have you seen it yet?”
“Lit?” I cast my gaze to the dark fir. “No. Not yet. I’m excited, though. It’s been a while since I took the time to come here.”
“We all grieve in our own ways.” She manages to repeat Dean’s words verbatim, squeezing my arm and smiling through tear-clogged lashes. Then she pats my hand and coughs out a weepy snicker. “It makes my heart happy to have you back this year, Sweet Anna. Your father would be proud.”
“You’re so kind.” Mel expertly extracts me from Mrs. Pearson’s death grip and makes it seem entirely pleasant. “We were just heading over to collect some cocoa. Could we bring some back for you?”
“Oh, no, dear.” She waves us off. “But I appreciate your generous offer.”
The instant we’re moving again, I close my eyes and tilt my face toward the sky, trusting my best friend to lead me. “Thank you.” I swipe my nose and bring my head back down again. “She almost got me.”
“Nobody’s making my girl cry tonight.” She cuddles into my side and walks me all the way to the coffee cart, ordering, paying, and turning back to face me head on. “If you wanna cry, you can. I support it. But if you don’t—”
“I don’t.” I swallow the irritating lump of nerves stuck in the base of my throat. “I’m trying this new thing where I don’t cry in December. It’s called the Dean Warner Detox method. I kinda like it.”
Snickering, she rubs my arms as an icy blast of wind whips her hair around her head. “It’s adorable how besotted he is with you. He’s like a big ol’ puppy dog, lighting up every time you look his way.”
To test it, I glance across the expanse of the park and get caught up in his hungry-eyed gaze.
My heart sizzles when we make contact, then it sighs when he winks.
He maintains a three-way conversation with Nick and Carter, somehow already having acquired a bottle of…
something. A beer, maybe. But for as long as I stare, he stares right back, and when warmth floods my cheeks, his nose wrinkles playfully.
“Good lord. What are the chances you could just go for a drive one night and BAM! You hit the man you’ve been looking for all along?”
I peel my gaze back to Mel’s, a shuddering, nervous laugh bouncing from the depths of my chest. “The man I’ve been looking for?” I shake my head. “I think you’re overstating—”