We both watch her go albeit for very different reasons. Montana is probably thinking about how he’s going to collect on her “making it up to him” with or without the light show, and I’m just enjoying the fact that she’s already named the little thing and is making it a home.
It’s one less thing on my list of things to do before I’m off for the night, which is good, because my list just got a hell of a lot longer.
“Hey,Ness, did you know it’s almost Christmas and uh…what are you doing?” I say as my gaze rakes over the island to the pile of rolls, peanut butter,and is that butter?
“I was having a craving and cabin fever was setting in, so I took Remi over to that bakery in Clementine Creek—you know the one?”
“The Poppy Seed,” I respond automatically as she points the knife in her hand at me before nodding and dipping it back in the jar.
“Right, so I was in there and did you know her brother makes these?” Nessa holds up a roll and waves it at me.
“Hank? Yeah, he does a lot of the bread there. I think there’s still a waitlist most days.”
“Oh nice. I got her number so I’ll have to get on that.” I blink at her, the peanut butter-covered knife waving around like an afterthought. “So anyway, I was craving these hard rolls because one time in college… I went to college in Maine but my roommate lived in upstate New York and she took me home with her for the weekend and they had these hard rolls at the convenience store.”
“I think I need to sit down,” I murmur as she picks up a second knife and slathers butter on the other side of the roll before putting the peanut butter side on top and holding it out for me.
No freaking way.
“Don’t knock it till you try it,” she says, eyes narrowed, as she waits for me to take the mutant sandwich before making her own.
Grabbing a napkin, I set both things on the island and turn my attention back to her. “You ate hard rolls from a convenience store?”
“Oh! And they had the best homemade ice cream too!” She takes a bite of the rolls and leans one hip against the island as her eyelids flutter shut, her T-shirt riding up and making my mouth water for far more than the food. “Stop staring and take a bite.”
Properly chastised, I do as she asks, even though it’s with far less enthusiasm than she had, and…frown…as I chew something I’d never put together in a million years but actually works.
“Huh.”
“It’s good, right?” she asks, her azure eyes dancing with amusement as she watches me. Her cheeks are flushed, her blonde hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, there’s not an ounce of makeup on her gorgeous face, and all I want to do is push everything on the island to the floor and lay her out to see if I can get her to blush that pretty pink color everywhere.
“I’m pretty annoyed that I don’t hate it.”
“That’s the spirit.” She grins and I shake my head as she takes another massive bite before setting it down and putting the lid on the peanut butter.
“Speaking of spirit, did you know Christmas is less than two weeks away?” I ask and her hand stills as she looks at me.
“Really?”
“I forgot too. I mean I didn’t forget but I work on Christmas—I always have. My parents usually go to visit Sawyer or Indie and we celebrate when they get back. I cover it so the deputies with families—kids—can spend the holiday with them. It’s always just been a day, but I have Remi now so it feels different missing it this year. I mean, we can still celebrate just notonChristmas.” She just stares at me so I keep talking. “What about your family? Do you have plans with them?”
“Um, wow. I really hadn’t thought about it.” She worries her bottom lip with her teeth and stares out across the room. “My parents are going to Aruba, and my sister has her own plans. Kinsley asked if I wanted to go home with her, but we haven’t talked about it since I got here.”
“Do you want to go spend the holiday with Kinsley?” My voice is as neutral as I can possibly make it. I don’t want to sway her decision, but I definitely want her to stay—to be here with us.
“Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“I think Scarlett would have wanted us to be together for Christmas.” She swallows, the vulnerability flashing in her eyes making my heart race faster. “And I’m not sure how many chances I’ll have to do this with you.”
I want to shout from the rooftops that she can be with us forever if she wants. But I keep my mouth shut because I know that’s not what she wants to hear, and quite frankly, I don’t want to be with someone with one foot already out the door.
Instead I settle on, “You are always welcome here.”
“Don’t fall for me, Sheriff,” she whispers, and this time there’s far more sincerity than teasing in her tone.
“Just bein’ neighborly, Trouble.”
