A Cross-Country Christmas(4)

“. . .and I can get them myself.” Lauren stared at the floor, a trail of her word vomit begging to be wiped up. This was her worst nightmare, coming true.

“I don’t mind.” He reached for them, but she put a possessive hand out, stopping him.

“No,” she snapped, “I got it.”

She wasn’t about to let Will Sinclair be the nice guy.

Maddie’s gaze fell to her empty plate. Lauren knew she wasn’t exactly being cordial, but Maddie didn’t understand, she didn’t know the history—or the truth—that he deserved every bit of her malice. And it was safer this way. Her heart couldn’t be trusted where Will was concerned.

“Okay.” He held up both hands in surrender. An awkward pause filled the space around their table. Then he shrugged. “I’ll head out and start the car, I guess. Just meet me in the parking lot when you’re ready to go? It’s the black Jeep Grand Cherokee.”

She nodded and smiled a polite smile, the kind you give a person who’d just budged the line at the grocery store, and he walked away. She glanced over to find her best friend staring at her from across the table.

Lauren looked back, defensive. “What?”

“Is that really how you’re going to act for the next three days? He’s doing something nice for you by letting your scared butt tag along in his car.”

Lauren stood. “Don’t get confused, Maddie. Will Sinclair is not a nice guy. Not when we were kids and not when we were in college and certainly not now.”

“So, your plan is to be rude the entire time.”

“Not. . .overtly.”

“Well, that should be fun.”

Lauren sighed, knowing it was time to go. “Stand up and hug me, or put me out of my misery. Your pick.”

Maddie stood and sighed. “Nothing miserable about that man, that’s all I’m saying.” She threw her arms around Lauren. “Be good. Be safe. Have a little fun, will ya? You could stand to loosen up.”

Lauren groaned and pulled away. “This is going to be the worst Christmas on record, so loosening up really isn’t high on my priority list.”

Maddie gave her a sad smile. “It’ll be okay.”

“I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.” She turned her suitcase around and gave her friend a wave.

“You know he totally heard you say that thing about kissing the pillow, right?” Maddie called after her.

Lauren groaned again and wheeled her bags out the door, where she spotted Will, leaning against the car like Jake Ryan at the end of Sixteen Candles. He wore aviators, a vintage wash sky blue T-shirt that stretched tight across his well-defined chest and biceps and he still, after all these years, made her heart turn over in her chest.

You are not that girl anymore! She repeated the words over and over in her mind and even muttered them to herself, not because she was trying to convince herself, but because it was true.

That girl, the girl she was, was only drawn to Will because he was popular, good-looking and out of her league. But she knew better now. She knew not to crush on someone for superficial reasons. And she’d also learned that she really was happy being alone. It was safer, after all, which she would be smart to remember.

People could not be trusted. They always let you down, and Will Sinclair had already proven that to her, hadn’t he?

Which meant the only future that included him was the next twenty-nine hours.

And that was twenty-nine hours if she didn’t use the bathroom.

She was determined to hold it.





Chapter 2





“This is your car?”

As Will watched Spencer’s little sister struggle to drag the ridiculously oversized pink suitcase into the parking lot, he thought that after this trip, his debt to his best friend might finally be paid.

He then immediately noted that he could spend the rest of his life doing Spencer favors, and it wouldn’t even come close.

“This is it.” He pushed himself up off of the SUV. “She’ll get us where we need to go.”

Lauren glared at him. He hadn’t seen her in a lot of years, but in that time, she had not only grown up, she had also apparently planted a grudge against him. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but decided to put it in the “not my problem” thought box.

It was going to be an icy week, both inside and outside the car.

“I got you coffee.” He hoped it would be a peace offering.

“I don’t drink coffee,” she said flatly.

“That’s not what Spence said.” He opened the car door and grabbed the coffee from the cup holder.

She looked away.

“He said you like the, uh—” he looked at the side of the cup—"white chocolate mocha?”

She kicked at something on the ground. “Thanks.” It might’ve actually pained her to say that.

“Waiting on you.” He opened the back door for her. “Here, I can grab that...”

“I got it.”

Right. She had it.

She was probably one of those women who was insulted when a man tried to hold the door open for her. It was impossible to know how to act these days. He’d been taught to be a gentleman, but now that was insulting. And the last thing he wanted to do was insult a beautiful woman.