Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
“We could watch one of those weird old Christmas movies you like. The ones where nothing happens, but everyone contemplates the meaning of snow and somehow the crooner’s the hero.”
She chuckled. “So basically every movie I’ve ever loved.”
“Exactly.”
“Perhaps.” It was their turn in line and she waited as Logan ordered two hot ciders.
“Here we go a’ wassailing. Cheers.”
He handed her a cup, and the nutmeg-spiced steam warmed her face.
Sticking by her side, Logan led them down the main drag. “So, what do you say? Candles. Blankets. Fire. Socks are mandatory, of course. And I’ll insist the phone goes off.”
The boys always gave her grief about her phone, but she liked to keep it on at all times in case Bodhi needed something—not that calls ever went through in their part of town.
“I don’t know.”
“Please.” He pouted. “I have two new puzzles for approval—a nature scene and one full of cuddly woodland creatures.”
She shook her head, grinning. “You know my weak spot for puzzles.”
“Yassssss!” he hissed victoriously like an evil mastermind and sipped his cider.
“Fine. After I take Bodhi home, I’ll meet you at your place in an hour.”
“I’ll have the movie cued up and the good fuzzy socks waiting.”
By the time she dropped her dad off and got to Logan’s it was almost ten. She’d regret staying up late tomorrow, but old Christmas movies were her weakness.
She walked in without knocking and slipped off her shoes. “Logan?”
“In here.” He appeared with a bowl of popcorn, already in his pajama pants and hoodie. “Classic holiday movie or heartwarming drama?”
“Oooh, tough choice.” She debated for a moment. “The classic.”
“Really? I was almost positive you’d pick the drama.”
“It’s the first movie of the season, and not even December yet. We don’t want to peak too soon.”
“Gotcha.” He cued up White Christmas as Wren made herself comfortable under a blanket on the couch. Logan was a cuddler, so she didn’t find it strange when he sat beside her and snuggled close.
She nibbled on popcorn as the opening scene unfolded. Later, when the female leads performed their musical number, Wren smiled. “We should choreograph this for our next town fundraiser.”
“Only if I get to hold a big blue feather fan like that.”
“Obviously.”
Within minutes, Wren was utterly charmed. “Bing was the original golden retriever.”
“No comment.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “Fine, who do you find more attractive, the blonde or the brunette?”
“Hands down, the brunette.”
“Because she’s the curvier one?”
“No, because the blonde looks like she could mess a man up. I don’t trust her.”
Wren took the bowl of popcorn back and giggled. “Can you imagine someone just being like, ‘Hey, let’s go to Vermont,’ and you actually go?”
“We could go right now. It would probably be more entertaining than this movie.”
She elbowed him in the side.
When the characters reached the inn in Vermont, Wren sighed. “Tell me this doesn’t scream Hideaway Harbor.”
“Meh, there’s not enough coastal charm. Throw a few lobstah traps in there, more alcohol, and a sea breeze, and then we’re talking.”
The general appeared. “He reminds me a little of Magnus.”
“Yeah, right. Maybe if Magnus discovered emotions.”
“Your dad has feelings, Logan.”
“Agree to disagree. Besides, Magnus would never allow Christmas music. Too much joy.”
By the final scene, she was nearly asleep. Or maybe she had already drifted off. Logan pulled the covers over her and shut off the lights. “You need anything?”
He’d set her up with a pillow from his bed and put a glass of water on the coffee table for her. “I’m good. Thanks, babe.”
He kissed his fingers and touched her forehead. “’Night, Wren.”
She turned into the cushions and fell right to sleep.
CHAPTER 6
“Out of All the Reindeer,
You Know You’re The Mastermind”
Wren paced by her front window, chewing her fingernail to a nub. How could she have agreed to this? She should have canceled.
Lights panned across the snow, and Logan’s black truck came into view. Too late to cancel now.
She meant to get out the door as soon as he pulled up, but she needed a moment to calm her breathing. It took longer than usual to pull herself together. She flinched when he knocked.
With a shaky hand and an unsure belly, she pasted on a smile and opened the door, doing her best to play it casual. “Hi.”
“These are for you.” He revealed a stunning bouquet of sunflowers and eucalyptus branches.
“Oh, Logan, they’re beautiful.” She took the flowers inside, and he followed.
“I remember you telling me once that sunflowers were your favorite.”
She looked back at him, surprised. “You do?” He was right, of course, but Wren had no recollection of that conversation.
“Yeah. Sometime after our moms died. You said lilies used to be your favorite, but there were so many at the funeral that you no longer liked them. I asked what your second favorite was, and you said sunflowers.”
She was speechless. She hated the scent of lilies now, but had forgotten why. He was right. She associated the smell with sadness.