Page 27 of Big Package

The hurt that crossed her face lasted less than a second before she covered it. “Right.”

I hated myself for putting it there.

She picked up the instruction sheet and folded it carefully. “I should figure out how I’m going to get this thing back to the shop.”

“I’ll take it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

She walked toward the kitchen, leaving me alone next to the tree we’d built.

A blank gift tag had fallen out of the box. I picked it up. On the front, in small green letters, it said WHAT DO YOU WISH FOR?

I stared at the empty line underneath. Then I put it in my pocket.

CHAPTER 7

EMMY

I spent most of the drive back to Big Wood pretending I wasn’t thinking about kissing Cole again. It wasn’t going well.

Every time he shifted gears, I remembered his hand at my waist. Every stretch of silence gave my brain room to replay the part where his mouth had been on mine, and I’d completely forgotten why letting a man complicate my life was supposed to be a bad idea. Considering I’d spent six months congratulating myself on becoming smarter about men, this felt like a setback.

Near the Visitor Center turnoff, Jace stood next to a county truck. He looked up, spotted Cole’s truck, and then very clearly spotted me in the passenger seat.

“Oh no. He sees me.”

Cole shook his head. “He already knew.”

“Knowing I spent the night at your house and watching me ride back into town with you are two different levels of information.”

Cole lifted a hand from the wheel. Jace grinned, returning the wave, and I sank lower in my seat.

Downtown, snow had been pushed into uneven piles along the curbs, someone had topped a snowman outside the pharmacy with a cowboy hat, and Wrapped on Main stood exactly where I’d left it, the garland over the door hanging on by sheer determination.

Relief at seeing the place still in one piece loosened something inside me.

Cole pulled up right in front. “If you want to go unlock the door, I’ll get the boxes.”

“I can help.” I braced for the automatic no.

“Take the smaller ones.”

“Was that cooperation? I’m documenting personal growth.”

We carried in the orders, the festival inventory, and the sections of the tree, and somewhere along the way we fell into a rhythm. He handed me the lighter pieces before I asked. I cleared a path before he needed one. I hated how much I liked that.

We’d just carried the last section into the front when the bell jingled.

“Emmy!” Janice came in wearing her long winter coat and the expression of a woman who had been waiting all day for this. Her gaze landed on me, then Cole, then the gray sweatshirt that I had forgotten I was wearing.

“No,” I said.

“I haven’t said anything. I was going to ask whether Cole took good care of you.”

“He kept me from driving into a ditch, if that’s what you mean.”