Axel grins widely at me and tugs a hanger from the rack. It’s bright red with a green wreath and a stuffed Santa head coming out of the center of it. Honestly, it’s mildly terrifying, but the smile on Axel’s face makes up for it. “I think this might be the one.”
“It’s scary.”
“It’sperfect,” he stresses, attempting to have a serious demeanor as he says it, but his eyes reflect otherwise.
Axel is handsome in an understated way, like his glow-up may not have happened until he reached his early twenties. When we met at the coffee shop, he walked in with purpose and I instantly knew it was him.
I must be pretty recognizable too, because he came right up and picked me up in a bear hug like he’s known me for years.
I seem to have picked all the touchy feely men in San Diego. First Ethan, now Axel. Even Mateo kept finding ways to touch me. I wonder if Lincoln will be the same.
“Didn’t you say you had nieces and nephews that would be there today? Are you trying to ruin Christmas for them?”
Picking up another option to wear, I’m pleased to see it’s not bad. Red and green Christmas trees alternate lines on a cream-colored sweater, and a large-scale tree sits in the center.
It’s actually kind of cute. I could wear my red sequin skirt with it, and champagne-colored ballet flats.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Axel chants, shaking his head animatedly. “Do you want towin, or do you want to lose, Holly? Because that sweater tells me you want to lose, and I can tell by the twinkle in your eye this is your Christmas version ofSay Yes to the Dress.”
“How do you even know whatSay Yes to the Dressis?” I laugh, flipping the sweater over my arm to carry.
It’s mine. I’m taking it home.
He shrugs. “I have sisters. But seriously, we’ll lose if you get that.”
Taking the sweater from my arm, he holds it in the air and assesses it closer.
Reaching for it, I try to grab it back from his hold, but he spins to divert me from taking it.
I laugh. “Give me that back!” Reaching for the sweater, he pulls it just out of reach again, so I give up. “We won’t lose, Axel. You haven’t tasted my pie yet.” My cheeks heat immediately, realizing that sounded like a sugarcoated innuendo.
His gaze sweeps over me before he waggles his eyebrows, not missing a beat. “Get your mind out of the gutter, North,” he teases, nudging me softly in the ribs with his elbow. “C’mon, let’s go pay for these and then split up for a while. We’ve got pies to bake and less than three hours before we need to meet up at my parents' house.”
Sighing dramatically, even though I have a giant grin on my face, I relent and loop my arm through his while he guides us to the self-checkout lane.
“Hey, Ma!” Axel calls the moment we step over the threshold of the cozy, ranch-style home settled on the outskirts of La Mesa and Spring Valley. “I brought my famous pie! And my hot date.”
Kicking off his shoes, he scoots them off to the side to accompany the several other pairs that have been left there, so I do the same as I look around the Harris’ house. Family pictures and home decor cover the walls, and from further in the home I hear laughter and children playing. The scents of cinnamon, cloves, and roasted meat fill the air as I follow Axel to the kitchen.
“Ma! I said I’m here with my famous pie and my hot date,” Axel announces again as we join several adults gathered around a large kitchen table.
“Son! I didn’t hear you come in,” an older man with graying hair says, coming around to greet us. He’s wearing a Christmas sweater with a smiley face emoji wearing a Santa hat on it, and is carrying a mug with a steaming beverage.
“Famous pie? Hot date? One of those things is false, and I can see it’s not the date.” A handsome man who looks similar to Axel, but with lighter hair, turns around from the table being used as you’d use a kitchen island, with his hand extended. “Hi, I’m Ridge, Axel’s older, wiser, and more attractive brother.”
“Holly,” I greet, shifting my pie into my less dominant hand so I can shake his. “I’m pretty sure he’s lying about the pie being famous. It looks too perfect, if you ask me.”
“Hey!” Axel whines like he’s a kid again. “Whose side are you on?”
“Here, give me that,” Ridge says, grabbing the pie out of Axel’s hands to inspect.
The energy between these two is palpable, as though every time they’re together they revert back to a playful brotherhood.
A painful surge entangles my heart for a moment, but the sadness doesn’t linger. It can't—not with Axel’s mom pushing back her sons to come speak to me.
“Hi, sweetheart. My name’s Martha. I’m these two twits’ momma.” Martha opens her arms to me, and I hesitate before placing my pie on the counter and accepting her hug. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. Thank you for having me today.”
