“Relief definitely isn’t what I felt when they asked, but I think it’s good to have a purpose. And you are fun.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not exactly a barrel of monkeys. I mean, the other night with you after the tree lighting was super fun, but I’m guessing that’s not your usual either.”
“I’m not sure how to take that. What’s the wrong way and what’s the right way?”
She shrugged. “I guess I want to be a perfectionist, even when it’s deciding to have fun.”
“Yeah, that sounds like fun.”
“Exactly. I can’t even have fun having fun. It’s too stressful.”
The waitress came and delivered their food.
Since Regina still looked perplexed over her inability to have fun—which was silly—Emmett turned his hand over, locking their palms together. “Are you having a good time now?”
Her eyes met his, and she swallowed and then nodded.
“Good. Then let’s not worry about later fun.” Maybe he had been on the grumpy side recently, but he was slowly coming out of it, and the woman across from him was at least partially responsible. “Let’s focus on the now.”
“Just live in the snow globe world until time’s up?”
A pang went through his chest at the phrase time’s up, but that was silly. It was way too soon for that. “Why not?”
“Well, I like that it’s a perfectly defined plan.”
He shook his head but couldn’t help smiling.
“Still no teeth,” she said, propping her chin on her fist. “I’ll get that full smile out of you yet, Sheriff Haywood.”
An electric current traveled across his skin. He probably shouldn’t like her calling him that so much, but it didn’t change the fact that he really did.
Chapter Seven
Regina studied Emmett as he bent over the sheets of gingerbread, bag of icing in hand, tongue out in concentration. Evidently, judging the competition wasn’t enough. They had extra supplies they’d ‘brought for the kiddos,’ and Fern, who was running the event, told them they might as well make a house instead of ‘standing around like bums’.
So they were making a house.
Icing dripped out the back of the bag, and Regina couldn’t help it. She stepped forward and placed her hand over his. “You’ve got to squeeze from the end. I know it’s not fun and carefree, but icing is spilling all over the floor.”
Emmett glanced from her to the bag and then to her again. He swiped a glob of icing onto his finger and popped it in his mouth. “Mmm. See, I do it this way because then I have no choice but to clean up the mess with my tongue.”
“That would be nice, except now I’m not going to have any icing left for the decorations I’ve carefully divvied out, and how can we be judges if we can’t even complete a house of our own?”
Emmett raised an eyebrow and swiped another finger through the icing. But instead of licking it off himself, he extended it toward her. “Go on. You know you want a taste.”
Her pulse spiked. They were going to get in trouble, first for eating all their icing and second for causing a scene in the middle of the community center. Still, she stepped closer to him and took a taste.
His pupils dilated, and the temperature in the room shot up about a billion degrees—those houses would be melted here pretty quick.
“Only fifty minutes left,” Fern said, and they jumped apart. She glanced between them, far too smug.
Regina cleared her throat. “Oh, I’m a really good multitasker,” she said without thinking how exactly that sounded.
Emmett snort-laughed behind her, and she elbowed him in the gut, satisfaction going through her at the sound of his grunt. Fern strode off, and Regina longingly studied their candy. “I hope that I can eat one of those Twizzlers after our house has been on display for a while.”
“Or you could just eat one now, like I’m going to do with my favorite Christmas candy.” Emmett grabbed a gumdrop and tossed it in his mouth.
“Yuck! Gumdrops are the worst, and you ate a green one at that.”
He reached out, snagged another, and placed it on his tongue.
She bumped him away from the candy so they’d have some left to decorate with. Much more of his snacking, and they wouldn’t be able to make the trees in the front, unless they decided to make pink or red ones, but those colors were needed for the windows. “You make icing glue spots; I’ll place.”
Emmett saluted.
“Smart aleck. I’m taking that as your total obsequiousness.”
They circled the gingerbread house, and while Emmett had made a mess of the icing bag and floor, his foundation and seam work was solid. They made a good, efficient team, which was fun for her. Take that, Steve.
Emmett reached for another gumdrop, and she playfully smacked his hand.
“Just wait and see if we have any left.” They wouldn’t with the schematics she’d mentally drawn up, but she’d wait to drop that gummy bomb.
Emmett circled an arm around her waist, anchoring her to his chest and then reached around her, grabbed a pink gumdrop, and ate it.
“Now the top floor won’t have all its windows!”
“Better even it out then,” he said, stealing another as she attempted to wiggle free and block him from putting that one in his mouth.
She failed.
“My mom puts gumdrops in her fruitcake,” he said. “This is making me crave a piece.”
“I repeat my earlier ‘yuck.’ I’ve never seen anyone actually eat fruitcake. I have this theory that only a hundred or so have ever been made, and every Christmas, people just re-gift the loaves they received the year before.”
“Not true. I’ve eaten a lot in my day.” He took a handful of M&M’s out of the bowl, and she kicked up her efforts to break free.
“Emmett Haywood, don’t you dare eat my roof tiles.”
“I’m not going to. You are.” He brought them in front of her face. “I’ve decided that I’m in charge of you having fun tonight. Open your mouth.”
On principle, she thought about fighting him, but they smelled amazing, and she loved M&M’s. For the first time pretty much ever, she complied. So much for him being her subordinate.
Regina couldn’t help the moan that slipped out. No sugar for two months could do that to you. “They’re even better than I remembered.” She snagged another, and then she realized she’d relaxed into Emmett’s embrace. She glanced around, but everyone seemed to be super focused on putting the finishing touches on their houses.
She studied theirs. It wasn’t the prettiest or the most impressive, and she should really stop eating the candy tiles so they’d have enough for the finishing touches, but at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to care. What made it perfect wasn’t how it looked, but how much fun she’d had, and that she was now cuddling with a not-so-grumpy-anymore sheriff.
The loud bing of the timer made her jump, and then Fern used her over-the-top megaphone to demand that everyone put down their supplies and step away from their tables.
Regina quickly snagged a couple of Twizzlers.
“You rebel,” Emmett whispered in her ear.
“I grabbed one for you too.”
“What I meant to say was, you beautiful evil genius.”
She laughed as she spun in his arms, and her breath caught at the way he looked down at her. Time froze while her heart rate sped up. His throat worked a swallow as his hand splayed across her lower back and drew her even closer.
“… to the tables.”
Vaguely, she realized someone had not only neared but was talking to them.
“Judges,” Fern said, louder this time, “if you’ll follow me to the tables.”
“Is it just the two of us?” Regina asked when Fern extended two clipboards.
“Along with me. Judges are best in threes to help with tiebreakers, plus I have the most experience with baking.”
They rounded the zoned-off competition tables that he
ld the numbered houses. There were three categories, each item earning a rating on a scale of one to ten: overall look, originality, and difficulty.
Regina leaned closer to Emmett. “Well, they all look way better than ours, so I’m going to say everyone gets a ten on the difficulty level.”
Fern glared at them. “No discussing scores!”
“Uh-oh.” Regina grimaced. “Next, she’s going to ask you to arrest me.”
Emmett brushed by her, pausing to whisper, “It’d help you achieve your goal of getting arrested by Christmas. Really, I’d be helping you both out.”
She stifled a giggle as they continued down the row. When they reached the last house, she gasped—then she felt like a nerd for gasping, but still. Spree candy tiles made up the icicle-draped roof, and Santa and his chocolate reindeer had parked on the lawn. “Wow, I didn’t realize Peeta lived in your town.”
Emmett glanced at her, eyebrows all scrunched up. “Peter Whibley? I assure you he didn’t decorate this, and how do you know him?”
“No. Peeta.” Since no lightbulb went off, she added, “From The Hunger Games?” She swiped a hand through the air. “Never mind. This house gets my vote.”
“Mark the sheet, dear,” Fern said, a little extra threat in the dear. Yeesh. Funny how the people in the town were the least judgmental she’d ever met, except when it came to Christmas contests.
A few minutes later, her favorite house was declared the winner, and to her surprise, it belonged to a thirteen-year-old girl. She collected her impressive cash prize, and the town of Friendship called it a night.
And even though Regina was far from ready to part ways with the sexy sheriff, she knew that another night like this and her plan to go slow and proceed with caution would be forgotten. Then she’d end up hurt all over again. So she asked Fern for a ride back to the Cozy Cottage, and along the way, decided that she was going to have to put some distance between herself and Emmett Haywood.
Chapter Eight
Over the next week, every time Emmett saw Regina, it was always too brief, and she was always surrounded by people or in a big hurry. She didn’t call him, and although he hadn’t given her his number, she could’ve called the sheriff’s office easily enough. He wanted to call her several times, but she’d pulled away a couple of times now, and he was trying to do the right mix of taking advantage of what limited time they had and not scaring her off.
Still, earlier today he’d dialed her room at the Cozy Cottage. She hadn’t answered.
The phone on his desk rang, and his pulse jumped, hoping to hear a certain voice on the other end, regardless of how unlikely. Undoubtedly, it was a resident wanting him to go tell someone else how they should/shouldn’t do something they were doing, about to do, or considering doing.
“We’re home!” Mom’s singsong voice carried over the line. “Dinner at our place tonight, no excuses. Callie’s on board, and while I was in the diner, I ran into that pretty woman who’s visiting for the holidays and convinced her to come too.”
Emmett sat forward in his chair, the legs hitting the floor with a thunk. “Do you mean Regina?” Not like there was another woman in town who was visiting for the holidays, but he craved confirmation.
“Everyone’s said such nice things about her, and I heard all about how her wedding went kaput, poor thing. I also heard that you two have been cozying up, so I figured I better get to know her.”
Emmett scrubbed a hand over his face. “Mom, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Not only would it possibly tiptoe into scaring-Regina-off territory, but Mom fell for people in two seconds flat. She’d also been trying to marry him off forever. Callie too.
“You want me to call and uninvite her? That would be rude, Emmett.”
“I’m sure she only accepted because she felt obligated.”
“I’ll have you know we had a lovely conversation. I offered up all sorts of facts about you—don’t worry, I made you sound good, which isn’t hard …”
This just kept getting worse and worse. Mom continued prattling on about Florida and dinner, and Emmett regretted not taking the opportunity to take Regina out at least once more before his parents arrived back in town.
There’d be no peace after this.
In fact, he predicted that come tomorrow morning, Regina would be fleeing back the way she came, never to return again.
Regina’s nerves did jumping jacks in her gut as she approached the front door of the Haywoods’. She’d tried politely saying no to dinner, but Emmett’s mom wasn’t deterred, and when pushed, she couldn’t come up with a fast enough excuse.
After all, rehashing the weird voice mail message left by your ex-fiancé wasn’t exactly a normal way to spend a night, and more than that, it wasn’t how she wanted to spend one of the few precious nights she had left in town.
Emmett was either busy or giving her space. Or taking space? She wasn’t sure, but she’d wanted to call a dozen times. Wanted to forget about complications and do what he’d said—focus on the now.
Although meeting his parents …? Oh, jeez.
The noise of an engine caught her attention, and Emmett’s truck pulled up to the curb. He climbed out and she watched, mesmerized by the way his long legs ate up the space between them.
“Your mom invited me,” Regina said, juggling the bottle of wine she’d brought to her other hand.
“She told me. If you want to run, here’s your chance. I’ll even cover you.”
“Do you want me to go?” she asked, insecurity rising.
He stepped closer and cupped her cheek. “No. I’m glad to see you. Is it weird that it seems like it’s been forever?”
“I’m experiencing the same feeling, so maybe, but at least I’m not alone.”
“I think I’d better get your number before you meet my parents. That way, I’ll have it even if they scare you off.”
“Not exactly helping the nerves here,” she said with a laugh, but when he gestured for her phone, she handed it over.
He sent a text to himself. “Now you have my number, and you should definitely use it.”
She opened her mouth, hoping something clever would come out despite the way her brain went blank in his presence. Luckily—or unluckily?—the door swung open.
“What are you two doing out here in the cold?” Mrs. Haywood ushered them inside. “Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Over the next few minutes, Regina received a tour and a glass of wine. Then she crowded around the computer with everyone else to watch a slideshow of pictures from Florida. She also received a couple of smiles from Emmett—still closed-lip, but the impact sent her emotions reeling all the same.
“Now where are you from again?” Mrs. Haywood asked as they settled around the dining table.
“Cambridge, Maryland. It’s definitely warmer than here, with a lot less snow, but luckily the people in Friendship have supplied me with a coat, gloves, and a scarf.”
“Oh, you got a Marge scarf?” Mr. Haywood asked, and Regina nodded—Marge had told her it was no longer a borrowed accessory but a gift, and wouldn’t hear of Regina paying for it either. “I think everyone in town has one. We all claim we don’t wear them much because we don’t want to ruin them, but really it’s because we need to see and walk. Not sure why she only makes them ten feet long.”
Regina laughed. “Well, during the tree lighting ceremony, I decided being warm was better than either of those things.”
Emmett’s chair was next to hers, his steady presence at her side an indulgence she’d missed. Conversation moved to Callie, and she caught them up on her life. “That’s pretty much it, until Emmett brought home a woman in a bridal gown.”
Heat climbed up Regina’s neck and settled into her cheeks. Callie was clearly teasing her, but she was afraid the Haywoods would get the wrong impression of her.
Underneath the table, Emmett’s hand found hers, and Regina squeezed, silently warning him that she might not let go for the rest of the night.
>
Emmett stepped onto the back patio with Regina, who’d slipped outside to answer a call. She hadn’t immediately fled after dinner, which he took as a good sign. But there was a tenseness in her posture that hadn’t been there before.
“Everything all right?”
Her breath came out in a white puff. “Yeah.”
He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t give me the interrogator bad-cop glare.”
“Hard not to when I know that something’s up.”
“Not in the now, which is what I’m going to focus on. Right now.” She smiled and tilted her head toward the trampoline. “I haven’t been on one in years. I used to be really good at them.”
“Let me guess. You had goals and a plan.”
“I did. Achieved them too.” She started across the lawn. “Come on. Let’s see if I’ve still got it.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said.
She lifted her chin, a haughty expression on her face. “I’m not sure doubting my skills is a good idea.”
They reached the edge of the trampoline. “Fine, but if you get hurt …”
She boosted herself onto the padded edge. “You’ll leave me to bleed out?”
“Graphic, but no.”
“You’ll arrest me for trespassing?”
“Most likely not, but that’s because my mom would have to agree to press charges, and she already likes you too much.”
Sadness edged her smile. “I like her too.” Then she arched an eyebrow. “So glad to know you have my back.”
He stepped closer so that her knees were against his stomach, and placed his hand on her thigh, dragging his thumb over the top of the snowflake leggings she had on underneath a “Live, Love, Ride” snowmobile sweater. “You know I do.”
Her lips parted, and he wanted to close the distance and taste them. But he forced himself to remain in place.
She cleared her throat and pushed to her feet. “So …” She bounced lightly, as if testing the elasticity and recoil of the trampoline. “What’ll you do if I fall during my big stunt?”
Christmas With You Page 12