Merry with a Playmaker (Love Beach Holiday Collection)

Chapter One

The SUV rolls to a stop and I step out, my lungs expanding with the crisp, salt-tinged air. Ahh, that familiar holiday scent—bracing and nostalgic all at once. I heft my suitcase onto the sandy path, drinking in the sight of our cozy family beach house nestled among the dunes.

Twinkling lights wink at me from the eaves and porch railings to the festive front door, an unexpected flutter of excitement. Swags of evergreen boughs and cheerful red ribbons festoon the railings. Even from out here, I can hear the faint strains of classic carols and smell the aroma of fresh-baked pies wafting on the breeze.

My pragmatic side scoffs at getting sentimental over some decorations, but I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips. Being back here, surrounded by all this kitschy, exuberant holiday charm, that thaws a little of my reserve.

Let's not get carried away, Merry. It's the salt air going to your head. Still, as I climb the porch steps, suitcase thumping behind me, that little flicker of anticipation simmers, bright and buoyant as the glowing windows before me. Holiday magic indeed.

The front door bursts open before I reach for the knob.

"Merry!" Linda squeals, enveloping me in an enthusiastic hug that knocks me backwards. "Oh, I'm so glad you made it!"

I laugh, dropping my suitcase to return the embrace. "Oof! Easy there, sis. You're squashing me."

Linda pulls back, eyes dancing as she looks me over. "Sorry, I'm just excited to see you! It's been too long." She ushers me inside, the warmth and light spilling out around us. "Everyone, look who's here!"

A chorus of greetings rises up as I step into the living room. Mom, wrapped in a festive apron, swoops in to plant a kiss on my cheek. "Welcome home, sweetie. You must be exhausted from the trip."

I shrug, but can't hide a yawn. "Nothing a little holiday cheer can't fix."

Linda grins. "You're in the right place! Here, let me take your coat."

I shrug out of my jacket, snippets of conversation float around me—updates on kids, holiday plans, the latest family news. It's a pleasant buzz, but my energy is starting to flag.

Mom notices my drooping eyelids. "Merry, honey, why don't you head on up to your room and get settled? We'll have plenty of time to catch up later."

I nod. "Think I will. Thanks, Mom." Hoisting my suitcase, I make my way toward the stairs, Linda trailing behind.

"I put fresh sheets on the bed for you," she chatters as we climb. "There's a new quilt. Oh, and I stocked your bathroom with those fancy soaps you like, the ones with the little exfoliating beads—"

"Linda," I interrupt pausing at the top of the landing. "I appreciate it. You didn't have to go to any extra trouble."

"Pfft, no trouble at all." She waves a hand. “This is your home, too.”

Home. The word settles over me like a sigh as I push open the door to my childhood bedroom. The space looks much the same as always, if a bit tidier than I'd kept it. Pale blue walls, white wicker furniture, the faded quilt from my college days spread across the bed. A few framed photos on the dresser—me and Linda as gap-toothed kids, our long-gone golden retriever, a sneak appearance by a certain rugby player I'm not thinking about...

I set my suitcase at the foot of the bed not looking at that last photo. "Thanks, sis. I think I'm just gonna take a few to decompress before facing the horde again."

Linda nods understandingly. "Take your time to get settled. I'll make sure the vultures keep their distance." She winks.

"Ha. Appreciate it." I perch on the edge of the bed as Linda pulls the door shut with a soft click.

I flop backward onto the quilt, ejoying a moment of peace and solitude. My eyes flutter closed as I release a long breath. The muted sounds of laughter and chatter drift up the stairs, but in here it's quiet, cozy. Safe.

As if conjured by the thought, a memory rises unbidden—late night study sessions in a dorm common room, poring over rugby strategies until the wee hours. Evan sprawled on the fraying sofa, his long legs hanging off the end. Me cross-legged on the rug, papers scattered around me. The easy camaraderie between us, the way his sleepy smile could set off a flutter in my lady bits.

My eyes snap open. Oh no. We are not going down that road, Merry Robinson. This is a friends-free, romance-free holiday zone. No complications, no distractions, and no unresolved history.

That, I tell myself as I reach for my suitcase, is 100% fine by me.

~·~·~·~·

Determined to shake off the wisps of nostalgia, I zip open my suitcase with decisive tugs. I pull out a warm burgundy sweater and my favorite dark wash jeans, the fabric soft from wear. I fold my travel clothes and tuck them away, each crease sharp and precise.

Catching a glimpse of my reflection in the dresser mirror, I pause. I smooth an errant curl, adjust my glasses. Presentable enough, I suppose, for some low-key exploring. Not that it matters. I'm here for the quaint holiday vibes, not to impress anyone.

That settled, I grab my coat and a chunky cable-knit scarf, winding it around my neck as I head downstairs. I poke my head into the living room, where Mom and Linda are chatting over mugs of cocoa.

"I'm going to take a walk, check out the town center. I won't be long."

Mom smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Have fun, dear. Oh, and if you pass that little bakery on the corner, could you pick up a loaf of their cinnamon bread? It's divine."

"Sure thing." I flash a thumbs up.

Outside, the air is crisp and invigorating, the chill nipping at my cheeks. I pause on the porch, tugging on fleece-lined gloves before setting off down the path. A light dusting of snow crunches beneath my boots, the crystalline flakes glinting in the afternoon sun.

I round the corner onto Main Street, the festive decorations come into view, and I grin. Garlands of evergreen boughs drape between lamp posts, punctuated by clusters of ruby red holly berries. White lights spiral up the trunks of bare-branched trees casting a warm glow around us.

I wander along the sidewalk, taking in the charming storefronts decked out for the holidays. A toy shop window filled with whimsical nutcrackers and rocking horses. An artisan boutique displaying hand-blown glass ornaments in jewel tones. The mouthwatering aroma of gingerbread wafting from the bakery door as a couple exits, laughing, arms linked.

Love Beach at Christmastime is magical.

The jingling bells on the café door seem to mock me as I step inside, shivering from the biting cold. My eyes scan the cozy space, taking in the garlands of holly and whimsical ornaments dangling from the exposed beams. That's when I spot him - Evan, looking infuriatingly at ease, leaning back in his chair like he owns the place.

I do a double-take. Surely my eyes are playing tricks on me, but no, there he sits, impossibly handsome and oblivious to my gawking. He glances at his watch, the picture of effortless cool.

"Merry! What a delightful surprise." His voice is smooth as silk, with just a hint of mischief.

I cross my arms. "Evan. Fancy seeing you here."

"Must be fate, hmm?" He grins, gesturing to the empty seat across from him. "Care to join me?"

I hesitate for a beat, trying to read his expression. There's a glimmer in his eye that I can't quite place. Almost as if...

"Oh, why not." I shrug, sliding into the chair. "Tis the season for surprises, I suppose."

Evan chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "Indeed it is. And what a lovely surprise this is."

I narrow my eyes. "A little too perfect, if you ask me. Almost like it was...planned."

He gasps, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Merry, you wound me! Can't a man enjoy a festive coffee without ulterior motives?"

"With you? Doubtful." I smirk.

Chapter Two

The jasmine-scented breeze dances through the café's open windows as Evan leans forward, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "So, Merry, tell me - how has the world of numbers and strategies been treating you?"

I snort. "Oh, changing the world one spreadsheet at a time. The usual."

"I'd expect nothing less from the brilliant Merry Robinson." He winks, and a traitorous flutter in my stomach.

I sip my Mexican Hot Chocolate enjoying the bite of heat at the back of my throat. "What about you, Mr. Rugby Star? Still basking in the glow of your glory days?"

Evan clutches his chest. "You cut me deep, Mer. Remember, I'm a changed man. Retired, reformed, and ready for new adventures."

"Is that so?" I study him. "What kind of adventures did you have in mind?"

He leans back. "Well, for starters, catching up with an old friend over coffee. Convince her to join me for a little holiday fun?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Holiday fun? Sounds like you're up to something, de Nemours."

"Me? Never." He chuckles, but there's a glimmer of sincerity in his gaze. "Mer, it's been too long."

It's just the coffee, I tell myself. Definitely not the way Evan's looking at me like...

Like maybe there's still a spark between us. A spark that never quite died out despite the passage of time.

I'm not that girl anymore. The one who let herself get swept up in charming smiles and grand gestures. I've built a life for myself, and I'm not about to let Antoine “Evan” de Nemours waltz back in and turn it upside down.

No matter how tempting it might be.

~·~·~·~·

A familiar laugh catches my attention, and I glance up to see Sylvie, Evan's sister, sauntering into the café. She spots us a knowing grin spreading across her face as she raises an eyebrow at our cozy seating arrangement.

"Well, well, well," she drawls, making her way over to our table. "What do we have here?"

Evan shoots her a look, but there's a fondness in his exasperation. "Hello to you too, sis."

Sylvie ignores him, turning her mischievous gaze on me. "Merry Robinson, I didn't expect to find you here, canoodling with my brother."

My cheeks warm, but I keep my tone light. "Canoodling? I think you're reading too much into a simple coffee catch-up."

"Oh, is that what we're calling it these days?" She winks, and I laugh.

Evan shakes his head, standing up to usher Sylvie away. "Alright, that's enough out of you. Don't you have some art to create or something?"

"Fine, fine, I can take a hint." Sylvie holds up her hands in mock surrender. "But don't think I won't be grilling you later, brother dearest."

With a parting grin, she sashays off to the counter, leaving Evan to turn back to me with an exaggerated sigh.

"Sorry about that," he says, his tone dripping with feigned apology. "Little sisters, you know how they are."

"I'm sure you had nothing to do with her sudden appearance."

Evan places a hand over his heart, his eyes wide with innocence. "Moi? I'm wounded by your accusation, Mer. Purely a coincidence, I assure you."

"Mhmm." I narrow my eyes at him, trying to suppress a smile. "A coincidence. Just like running into you here was a coincidence."

His grin is unrepentant. "The universe works in mysterious ways."

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. "The universe, huh? And here I thought it might have something to do with a certain someone's propensity for scheming."

Evan laughs, the sound warm and familiar. "Scheming? You make me sound like some sort of villain. I prefer to think of it as...strategic planning."

"Is that what we're calling it these days?" I echo Sylvie's words, my lips twitching.

"Call it what you will, but you can't deny that it's been nice catching up. Admit it, Robinson, you missed me."

I can't quite hide my smile. "Missed you?"

"Ouch." Evan clutches his chest, feigning hurt. "You always did know how to wound a man's ego."

"Someone has to keep you in check," I retort, but there's no real bite to my words.

Bantering with Evan like this, it feels...right. Like slipping into a familiar rhythm, a dance we've done a thousand times before.

The rational part of my brain that kept me focused and driven while on my own in whole ass other country is whisper shouting a warning. Don't get too comfortable, Merry. Don't let yourself fall back into old patterns.

After all, we're not the same people we were back in college. We've grown, changed, moved on with our lives.

Haven't we?

Evan's gaze turns more serious, his voice lowering. "Merry, seeing you again after all this time, it feels like...unfinished business."

I raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore another inconvenient flutter at his words. "Unfinished business? I wasn't aware we had any."

He shrugs, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "We do."

"Evan, that was a long time ago. We were just going different ways."

"Were we?" He challenges. His eyes boring into mine. "From where I'm sitting, it feels like we just weren't ready then, but now..."

He trails off, letting the unspoken possibility hang in between us.

I buy myself time to think with a quick sip of my cocoa.

I set my mug down, meeting Evan's gaze head-on. "Okay, I'll bite. What are you proposing we do about this so-called 'unfinished business'?"

He grins. "Well, for starters, there's the annual Love Beach holiday festival this weekend. We could go together like a date."

I raise an eyebrow. "Like a date? The holiday festival? Isn't that a bit...cliché?"

"Cliché? Merry, I'm wounded. Here I am, trying to orchestrate a heartwarming reunion, and you're calling me cliché."

Despite myself, I chuckle. "Orchestrate, huh? So you admit this little coffee shop run-in wasn't just a coincidence?"

He has the grace to look abashed. "Let's just say I had a hunch you might be here."

"Wow, stalker much?"

"Think of it more as purposeful reconnaissance."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?"

We both laugh, the banter flowing as it's always between us. It's nice, this feeling of familiarity, of picking up right where we left off.

"In all seriousness, Mer, I'd like to spend some time with you while we're both in town."

I hesitate, torn between the pull of temptation and the safety of the status quo.

The logical part of my brain holds me back, reminding me of all the reasons why getting involved with Evan again could be a spectacularly bad idea.

My lungs fill as I try to sort through my conflicted feelings.

I look at Evan, at the hope and affection reflected on his face, and my resistance starts to crumble.

"Okay," I say. "Let's go to the festival."

Evan's answering smile is brighter than all the lights in Love Beach.

I shrug trying to play it cool even as my heart races with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. "Why not? It's the holidays, after all. 'Tis the season for taking chances, right?"

Evan's grin widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way I remember so well. He stands, offering me his hand with a flourish. "Then let's go make some holiday magic, shall we?"

I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. His touch sends a spark of electricity I can't quite ignore. We head for the door, our hands still linked, and I try not to overthink what this all means.

We step out into the night, Evan turns to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Fate seems to have a pretty good sense of humor, bringing us together like this."

"Fate?"

He shrugs, his grin turning playful. "Hey, I'm just saying. Of all the coffee shops in all the world, you walked into mine. Twice. That's got to mean something, right?"

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"You love it." He winks, giving my hand a squeeze before reluctantly letting go. "I'll pick you up at seven for the festival. Wear something warm."

I nod, feeling a flutter of excitement in my stomach. "Seven it is."

We part ways, Evan heading off down the street with a wave.

It's a shame we aren't here during swimsuit season.

~·~·~·~·

A holiday tune escapes my lips as I walk back to the beach house, the unexpected delight of the day still lingering in my steps. The salty breeze tangles through my curls, and I smile at the sheer absurdity of it all. Evan de Nemours, back in my life and as charming as ever.

I climb the porch steps. The warm glow of the windows beckons me inside, the laughter of my family drifting out to greet me.

"There she is!" My aunt Lori calls out as I step through the door, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Were have you been all afternoon, missy?"

I shrug off my coat, aiming for nonchalance. "Out enjoying the holiday buzz."

"Uh-huh." She smirks, her gaze far too knowing for my liking. "This 'holiday buzz' wouldn't happen to have a name, would it?"

I busy myself with hanging up my scarf, keeping my back turned to hide the heat rising in my cheeks. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't." Lori laughs, the sound warm and rich. "Just so you know, I've got my eye on you, Merry Robinson. You can't keep secrets from me for long."

I turn to face her, schooling my features into a mask of innocence. "Secrets? Me? Never."

Even as the words leave my mouth, the corners of my lips twitch, threatening to give me away. Lori just shakes her head, a knowing glint in her eye as she turns to the kitchen.

I exhale, leaning against the wall trying to collect myself. It's just coffee, I remind myself. Just two old friends catching up.

No need to make it into something it's not.

Even as I repeat the words like a mantra, I can't quite shake the flutter in my stomach, the whisper of possibility that lingers.

Damn you, Evan de Nemours. Damn you and your charming smile and your uncanny ability to turn my world upside down with a single glance.

I push off the wall and head towards the laughter and chatter of my family. Whatever this is, whatever fate has in store, I'm ready for it, but first, I need a glass of wine.

Or three.

~·~·~·~·

I settle onto the couch, wedged between my cousins and their spirited debate over the merits of peppermint versus cinnamon in holiday baking, I let my mind wander back to Evan. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, the effortless charm that seemed to radiate from every pore.

It's infuriating how easily he can get under my skin. All it takes is one look, one well-timed quip, and I'm right back where I started. Flustered, off-balance, and more than a little intrigued.

The spicy notes of the wine dance across my tongue as I try to focus on the conversation swirling around me. It's no use. My thoughts keep drifting back to that cafe, to the electricity that seemed to crackle between us with every word, every glance.

I wonder what would have happened if Sylvie hadn't walked in when she did. If we'd had a few more minutes alone, a few more chances to let that spark catch fire.

We've been down this road before, and as much as I hate to admit it, there's a part of me still smarting from the last time, still nursing the wounds of a friendship that never quite blossomed into something more.

No, it's better to keep my distance. To enjoy the flirtation, the banter, but to not let it go any further than that.

And yet, as I drain the last of my wine and lose myself in the laughter and warmth of my family, I can't quite shake the feeling that fate might have other plans.

Something that could change everything.

I'll just have to wait and see, and pour myself another glass of wine while I'm at it.

Chapter Three

The bell tinkles on the ornate glass and wooden door to O'Leahey's Creamery signaling our arrival. The sweet scent of churned ice cream envelops me like a warm hug as I step inside the cozy shop. Twinkling string lights dance across the wooden beams, casting a soft glow on the old-fashioned stools lining the long marble counter. It's like walking into an idyllic Christmas card.

The door swings open behind me, a gust of frosty air nipping at my heels. I glance over my shoulder and freeze. Evan de Nemours stands in the doorway, snowflakes melting in his dark hair, a roguish grin splitting his handsome face as his eyes lock onto mine.

My heart does a traitorous little flip. I arch an eyebrow at him, trying for unimpressed. "Fancy meeting you here."

Evan saunters towards me, that infuriating grin never wavering. "Well, when I heard the brilliant Merry Robinson was in town, I just had to drop everything and come pay my respects."

He stops beside me, close enough that I catch a whiff of his cologne, something warm and spicy that makes my knees go a little weak. I clench my jaw, annoyed at my body's instinctive response to him.

I cross my arms and shoot him a flat look. "I'm sure. Because a big-shot rugby star like you has nothing better to do than chase down old college friends."

Evan clutches his heart in mock affront. "Math geeks who moonlight as secret weapons for championship rugby teams are my top priority."

Despite myself, I smile. Evan always did know which of my buttons to push to coax out a grin - usually against my better judgment. Kind of like agreeing to meet up with him here...

Evan leans in, eyes twinkling. "Now, are you going to continue sassing me, or can I buy the brilliant strategist an ice cream?"

old charming, incorrigible Evan. Heaven help me.

I point an accusing finger at him. "One scoop. Then you've got some explaining to do, mister."

His grin widens into a full-blown smirk as he offers me his elbow with exaggerated gallantry. "Your wish is my command."

I link my arm through his ignoring the way my heart stutters at the casual contact. He leads me to the counter, smiling down at me with that dangerous twinkle still gleaming, one thought pulses through my mind:

Uh-oh. I'm in trouble.

**********

Evan orders our ice cream, I sneak glances at him from the corner of my eye. The years have been kind to him—a little silver at the temples, a few laugh lines around those magnetic green eyes, but still every inch the devastatingly handsome charmer I remember.

Unfortunately.

He catches me looking and winks, sending a traitorous flush crawling up my neck. I avert my gaze, but not before I catch the knowing curve of his lips. Damn it.

Desperate for a distraction, I scan the bright array of ice cream flavors. "So, Mr. Big-Shot-Rugby-Star, what's your flavor of choice these days?"

"Hmm, I'm partial to Butter Pecan." His shoulder brushes mine. "I might be persuaded to try something new if a certain brilliant strategist recommends it."

I huff out a laugh, an odd fluttering sensation taking flight in my stomach. "Still incorrigible."

"And you're still keeping me on my toes." His eyes dance with warmth and something deeper I don't dare analyze. "Some things never change."

Our server hands us our cones—Butter Pecan for him, Peppermint Stick for me. Evan gestures for me to choose a table, and I lead us to a cozy nook by the frosty window.

We sit, knees bumping under the small table, I take a fortifying lick of my ice cream and raise an eyebrow at him. "Alright, hot shot. You got me here. Now spill—what brings you back to Love Beach?"

For a split second, a shadow flickers across his face, gone so quickly I almost think I imagined it. Then the easy smile is back, tinged with a wistfulness that catches me off guard.

"Would you believe me if I said I missed the way the seagulls jazz up 'Jingle Bells'?"

Despite myself, I snort out a laugh. "Not for a second."

He chuckles, but there's a weight to it, an uncharacteristic heaviness that sets off tiny warning bells in my head. His gaze locks onto mine, searching and vulnerable.

"I realized somewhere along the way, chasing down my dreams... I lost track of what matters. Who matters."

"Merry..."

His voice is soft almost pleading. I'm tempted.

"I'm not sure what you're getting at, but I'm here to visit my family not to... revisit old flames."

He sits back, studying me with green eyes that seem to see straight through me. A smile plays at the corner of his mouth, but there's a determination in his gaze that sets my heart racing.

"Well, in that case..." He leans forward conspiratorially. His voice a husky whisper. "What do you say we make some new memories starting with the tree lighting ceremony tonight?"

I nearly choke on my ice cream. "The tree lighting? Evan, I don't think-"

"Come on, Mer," he cajoles. "It'll be just like old times! Hot cocoa, off-key caroling, a snowball fight or two?"

"You're impossible."

His grin is wicked and unrepentant. "Is that a yes?"

I hesitate, torn between the undeniable pull of his charm and the voice in my head screaming at me to run. This is dangerous territory, the kind of holiday magic that could sweep me off my feet and leave me stranded come New Year's.

What's the harm in one little ceremony? It's not like I'm agreeing to anything more...

"Fine," I sigh, pointing my spoon at him in mock warning. "No funny business, de Nemours. This is a friendly outing, got it?"

His smile is blinding, and it takes everything in me not to mirror it. "Got it. Scout's honor."

"You were never a Scout."

**********

I try to focus on the festive decorations around us, the twinkling lights and cheerful garlands, but my mind keeps drifting back to Evan. The looks. The touches. It's all so familiar, so comfortable, and yet...

No way. I give myself a mental shake, firmly pushing those thoughts aside. This trip is about reconnecting with old friends and soaking up some holiday cheer, not getting tangled up in some fleeting romance. I've worked too hard, come too far, to let myself get swept away by a charming smile and a few fond memories.

Evan falls into step beside me, our shoulders bumping companionably. "So, what have you been up to all these years, Merry? Still crunching numbers and whipping rugby teams into shape?"

I laugh, the sound carrying on the frosty breeze. "Something like that. You? Still breaking hearts and scoring tries?"

"You wound me, Robinson. I'll have you know I've hung up my cleats and retired my jersey. These days, I'm more of a gentleman of leisure."

"Is that what they're calling it now?" I tease, bumping my hip against his. "Here I thought you'd be off conquering the world, one rugby pitch at a time."

"Nah," he shrugs, his gaze turning thoughtful. "Turns out there's more to life than chasing a ball around a field. Who knew?"

We walk in silence, the weight of the years stretching between us. There's so much I want to ask him, so much I want to know, but something holds me back.

As we round the corner and the town square comes into view, all of those worries fade away. The tree is magnificent, a towering evergreen dripping with lights and ornaments, and the air is filled with the sound of carolers and the scent of roasting chestnuts.

"Wow," I breathe, my eyes wide with wonder. "It's even more beautiful than I remembered."

Evan laces his fingers through my own, and a spark of something electric races up my arm. "Yeah," he murmurs, his gaze never leaving my face. "You sure are."

I'm falling all over again, but this time, I don't try to fight it. Instead, I let myself lean into him, savoring the solid warmth of his body against mine.

I pull my hand away, tucking it into my pocket as I take a step back. "We should head back," I say, my voice too loud and too bright. "It's getting late, and I've got an early morning tomorrow."

"Okay, my Merry Berry, I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not letting you get away this time."

Chapter Four

I arrive at Love Beach's annual tree-lighting festival, strands of twinkling lights weaving magic through the crisp night air. The crowd buzzes with anticipation, scarves wrapped snugly and gloved hands clutching steaming mugs of cocoa. I pull my coat tighter as I scan the sea of faces, searching for anyone I might recognize from my college days. It's been years since I've been back.

My breath catches. Again. Why is he still so fucking gorgeous?

There, across the square, a familiar figure stands by the towering Christmas tree. Broad shoulders, an athletic grace to his movements as he chats animatedly with the couple beside him.

I can't tear my gaze from him. The way the colorful lights dance across his face, illuminating that smile I used to know so well. The one that never failed to coax an answering grin from me, even on the toughest days.

My feet are moving of their own accord, carrying me toward him. Drawn like a lamb

"Merry? Is that you?" His voice is deeper than I remember, but still warm.

I nod, not quite trusting my voice. He closes the distance between us and I'm enveloped in his arms, the spicy scent of his cologne filling my lungs. I return the hug ignoring the way every nerve ending fires to life at his touch.

"I can't believe it! What are the chances?" He pulls back, hands resting on my shoulders as he looks me over. I fight the urge to fidget under the intensity of his gaze. "You look amazing."

"You don't look so bad yourself." I aim for nonchalance but it comes out breathier than intended. Get a grip, Merry. "How have you been?"

We fall into easy conversation, catching up on the highlights of the past decade. It's both familiar and new, this repartee. The same back-and-forth rhythm, but with a heightened awareness simmering beneath the surface. Of lingering glances and accidental brushes of fingers that are anything but accidental.

This is Evan. My former best friend. The guy I spent countless hours strategizing rugby plays with, the one who was always there for me. I can't let myself get carried away by some festive atmosphere and surge of nostalgia.

"So, Merry Berry..." Evan arches an eyebrow. "Think you still have those tree decorating skills from back in the day?"

I cock my head, meeting his challenge with a smirk of my own. " It's been a while. I might be a little rusty."

"Care to put those skills to the test?" He nods toward a towering evergreen, its branches bare and waiting. "I bet I can hang more ornaments than you."

"You're on." I march toward the tree, snatching a box of glittering baubles on the way. "Prepare to be dazzled by my superior ornament placement."

Side by side, we dive in, plucking glass spheres and shimmering stars from the box. I stretch to nestle a delicate icicle onto a high branch, determined to make use of every inch of green. Evan reaches around me to find an empty spot, his arm brushing against my shoulder and sending a tingle racing down my spine.

Focus, Merry. This is about pride, and a bit of showing off. I can't let myself get distracted by his proximity, by the warmth radiating from him despite the December chill.

We work in tandem, finding a natural rhythm. Ornaments clink and chime as we jostle for prime tree real estate, our competitive streaks flaring to life. The space between us seems to shrink with every passing minute until we're practically dancing around each other, hands grazing and exchanging wordless grins.

It's exhilarating. Comforting. A burst of joy in a season that's felt nothing but lonely until now. I chance a glance at Evan, catching him watching me with an unreadable expression. For a heartbeat, I'm transported back to college, to stolen moments and what-ifs left unexplored.

Nope. Can't let myself entertain those thoughts. That was then. This is now. And now is... complicated. Undefined.

I turn back to the tree, grabbing for the nearest ornament. My fingers close around it just as Evan's hand covers my own. The chill of the evening is chased away by a flash of warmth that has nothing to do with menopause or the thickness of my coat and everything to do with the man beside me.

I inhale the crisp scent of pine mingling with the warm - familiar notes of Evan's cologne. A scent I'd nearly forgotten, yet conjures up a flood of memories all the same.

I'm aware of each point of contact between us, the heat of his palm seeping into my skin like a brand. It takes every ounce of willpower to keep my voice steady as I clear my throat. "I believe that one's mine. Finder's keepers and all that."

"Is that so?" Evan arches a brow, his eyes glinting in a playful challenge. "I seem to recall my hand landing on it first. Perhaps we should call it a draw."

"A draw? And miss the chance to claim bragging rights?" I tsk, fighting back a smile as I give the ornament a gentle tug. "Careful, Evan. You're in danger of losing that competitive edge."

Evan's laughter rumbles through me, warm and rich as honeyed whiskey. "Losing my edge? Perish the thought." His fingers curl around mine, the pad of his thumb skimming my knuckles in a feather-light caress. "I'm learning to pick my battles."

The air thickens, charged with unspoken history. Of almosts and might-have-beens. Evan's gaze drifts to my lips, a question lurking in those amber depths that sets my pulse thrumming.

No. I can't go down this road. Not again. Not when the wounds have only just begun to heal.

I wrench my hand free, taking a step back as I plaster on a bright smile. "Well, as the reigning champion of tree decorating, I accept your concession." I turn to the branches, busying myself with arranging a cluster of baubles.

I try to lose myself in the task, but I’m distracted by Evan. The solid warmth of him at my back, the gentle cadence of his breathing. The unspoken currents swirling between us, threatening to pull me under.

It's going to be a long night.

**********

Evan's gaze lingers on my profile, a palpable weight that sets my nerves alight. I can hear the gears turning in his head, calculating his next move.

"Remember when we stayed up all night arguing about the merits of Euclidean geometry?" He muses, reaching past me to pluck a shimmering star from the box.

A surprised laugh bubbles up my throat. "You mean the night before your big game against Surrey?" I shake my head. "I still can't believe you chose mathematical discourse over sleep."

"What can I say?" Evan shrugs, a lopsided grin playing about his mouth. "I've always been a sucker for a beautiful mind."

Heat creeps up my neck, but I refuse to let him see me sweat. "Flattery will get you nowhere, de Nemours." I arch a brow, snagging the star from his grasp. "Especially not when there's decorating to be done."

We work in companionable silence for a few minutes, the occasional brush of shoulders or fingertips sending sparks skittering across my skin. It's almost easy to forget the years that stretch between us. To slip back into the comfortable rhythm of our youth.

Almost.

Evan clears his throat, a note of mischief threading through his tone. "Hey, Merry? Look up."

I follow his gaze to the sprig of mistletoe dangling above our heads. When did that get there?

"Seems we've been caught in a holiday tradition."

My mouth goes dry, a thousand protests rising to my lips. They die before I can give them a voice. Evan leans in his breath ghosting across my cheek as he presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

"So damn sweet." He whispers against my skin.

Just like that, he's gone, leaving me breathless and reeling in his wake.

What just happened?

I chance a glance at Evan, but he's already turned back to the tree, his attention focused on the ornaments in his hands. If it weren't for the slight flush creeping up the back of his neck, I might think I'd imagined the whole thing.

I force myself to focus on the task at hand. We're here to decorate, not to... whatever that was. I pluck a shimmering bauble from the box, ignoring the way my pulse races as I step up beside Evan.

"I think this spot could use some sparkle." I reach past him to hang the ornament.

Evan's gaze flicks to mine, a glimmer of... something in those green depths. "Agreed. Sparkle is always a good choice."

We fall into a rhythm, working side by side to bedeck the tree in glittering finery. The ghost of Evan's kiss lingers, a phantom presence that refuses to be ignored.

What did it mean? Was it just a bit of holiday mischief? A momentary lapse in judgment? Or was it something more?

The questions swirl through my mind, tangling with the memories of our shared past. The easy camaraderie, the stolen glances, the might-have-beens...

We're not those people anymore. We've grown up, moved on. Whatever we once were, or could have been, is ancient history.

Isn't it?

**********

The final ornament hung, Evan and I step back to survey our handiwork. The tree is a vision, every bough dripping with shimmering baubles and twinkling lights. Despite myself, a swell of pride at what we've accomplished together.

"Not bad," I remark, shooting Evan a sidelong glance. "I guess we still make a pretty good team."

"We always did."

Our eyes meet, and the rest of the world falls away. In the golden glow of the Christmas lights, it's easy to imagine we were still those two college kids, full of dreams and possibility...

The spell is broken by a sudden swell of music. Around us, the crowd begins to stir, a palpable excitement building as the emcee takes the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he booms, his voice carrying across the square. "The moment you've all been waiting for... the annual Love Beach tree lighting!"

A cheer goes up from the assembled masses, and I grin caught up in the festive spirit. Beside me, Evan is clapping and whistling, his face alight with boyish glee.

The emcee leads us in a countdown, his voice rising above the clamor. "Three... two... one..."

On cue, the towering tree bursts into radiant light, a dazzling spectacle of color and brightness. The crowd erupts in applause, the sound ringing out across the square.

I turn to Evan, my heart full to bursting with the magic of the moment. He's already looking at me, his eyes soft and warm in the twinkling light.

"Merry Christmas, Merry," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate.

"Merry Christmas, Evan," I whisper back.

For a long, charged moment, we gaze at each other. I sway toward him, drawn by a force I can't resist...

But then reality comes crashing back in, and I catch myself, stepping back with a rueful laugh. "We should go join the festivities," I say, my voice a little too bright. "Can't miss out on all that holiday cheer, right?"

Evan blinks, as if coming out of a daze. "Right," he agrees, shaking his head. "Lead the way."

Navigating the bustling crowd, Evan's hand finds the small of my back, guiding me through the sea of festive revelers. The gentle pressure is seductive, and I lean into his touch, savoring the warmth that seeps through my coat.

We pause at a vendor selling hot chocolate, the rich aroma of cocoa and cinnamon mingling with the crisp winter air. Evan insists on buying two steaming cups, pressing one into my hands with a playful grin.

"Can't let you freeze out here," he teases, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "What kind of gentleman would I be then?"

His accent sends a flutter through my stomach, and I hide my reaction behind a sip of cocoa, both hands curling around the cup as if it alone can keep my heart steady.

The sounds of carolers fill the air as we wander about, the harmony floating over the crowd. Our elbows brush as we walk, sending a thrill straight to my core and I tamp down the urge to take his hand. This easy chemistry, it's something to hold onto, want to savor.

Yet when we find ourselves in the middle of an impromptu dance party and Evan extends a hand, eyebrows raised in silent invitation. He pulls me close, one hand resting on my waist, the other entwining with my fingers. We sway and spin, caught up in the holiday spirit, in this moment suspended in time.

And for tonight, I let myself get swept away in this stolen magic, in the possibility shimmering between us. The music swells and Evan dips me in a sweeping flourish startling a laugh from me that mingles with the delighted cries of the crowd. For just a little while longer, I long to stay lost in this fairytale, before reality comes crashing back in.

The song ends, and we pull apart, breathless and giddy with laughter, I catch a glimpse of something tender in Evan's eyes. Something that sets my heart racing and fills me with a longing I'm almost afraid to name. Then it's gone, replaced by his usual playful expression, and the spell is broken.

Chapter Five

The swirl of steam rising from my latte distracts me as I glance around the bustling holiday crowds packing Love Bean Coffee Co. I almost don't notice him at first. But then my eyes lock onto a familiar smile across the room and my lurches at the site of… Evan?

He parts the crowd of knitted scarves and puffer jackets like Moses through the Red Sea, that magnetic charm as potent as ever. I straighten up and steady my mug as Evan strolls over, handsome as ever in his fitted peacoat.

"Merry! I thought that was you." His rich laugh warms me more than my peppermint mocha. "It's been ages. Fancy running into you here."

I tuck an errant strand behind my ear, lips quirking. "Well, you know me and my caffeine. Some things never change."

"Like your brilliant mind?" He taps his temple, eyes sparkling. "I still credit half our rugby wins to that strategic genius of yours. Remember when you stayed up all night plotting out those defensive plays?"

I snort. "How could I forget? You lot would've been lost without me."

Keep it casual, Mer. No need to get swept up again. We're reminiscing teammates here.

He leans on the bar, strong forearms flexing . "Speaking of needing your skills... I've got this charity rugby match coming up. I could use your strategic magic again, if you're game?"

My eyebrow arches as I sip my latte. "Oh? The rugby star needs help from little ol' me?"

I gesture to a quiet corner booth. "I suppose I can spare a few minutes to hear you out. No promises!"

We slide into the worn leather seats, knees bumping under the narrow table. I ignore the tingle racing up my thigh. Focus, Merry. This is business, not pleasure.

"So here's the deal. It's a big charity event, and I want our team to really showcase what we can do. We need an edge."

He taps the table for emphasis. "That's where you come in. Your analytical skills, your knack for seeing patterns and opportunities no one else does... You could help us create new plays."

I bite my lip, considering. It's tempting, the chance to stretch my strategic muscles again. To partner with Evan like old times, putting our heads together...

" It's been a while since I've even looked at a rugby playbook," I hedge, fingers fiddling with my mug handle.

His hand covers mine, sending a jolt straight to my core. "I have faith in you, Mer. You're brilliant. Always have been." His ocean eyes hold mine, unwavering. Sincere. "We could make one hell of a team again."

Damn him and his persuasive charm. What's the harm in a little game-planning between friends?

I exhale, a rueful smile playing on my lips. "Alright, you smooth-talker. I'm in."

I glance at my watch. "Well, if we're going to do this, we might as well go all in." I lean forward, elbows on the table. "When and where should we meet to start strategizing?"

Evan's eyes light up with excitement. "How about tomorrow at my cottage? We can dive into the details without any distractions." He leans back, a playful smirk on his face. "Unless of course, you find me too distracting."

I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Please. I can handle your so-called charms." My lady bits break out into a dance at the thought of being alone with him in his cozy cottage.

Focus, Merry.

"How about 10 am?" I suggest, keeping my tone casual. "That should give us plenty of time to go over the playbooks and analyze the team's strengths and weaknesses."

Evan nods, his expression turning serious. "Perfect. I'll make sure to have everything set up." He reaches out, his hand warm as it covers mine. "I appreciate you doing this, Mer. It means a lot."

"Of course. What are friends for?" I pull my hand back, grabbing my purse as I stand. "I should get going. See you tomorrow, bright and early."

Evan rises, his tall frame towering over me. "I'll be counting down the minutes." His voice is low waking up bits eager to join in the party.

I turn towards the door, my mind already racing with anticipation for our strategy session. Stepping out into the crisp evening air, I wonder what tomorrow will bring. One thing's for sure - with Evan de Nemours, I'm in for one wild ride.

**********

Sand crunches beneath my boots as I approach Evan's beachfront cottage, its white-washed walls gleaming in the morning sun. The salty breeze wafts through my curls in welcome. I pause at the front door, taking a steadying breath before raising my hand to knock.

The door swings open almost revealing Evan's grinning face. "Merry! Right on time." He steps back, gesturing for me to enter. "Come on in."

I step over the threshold, my senses assaulted by the warmth and coziness of the space. A plush couch sits in the center of the living room, flanked by worn leather armchairs. But it's the large whiteboard and scattered rugby playbooks that catch my eye, evidence of Evan's dedication to our little project.

"I see you've been busy," I remark, nodding towards the setup.

Evan chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know me, always prepared." He leads me further into the room, his hand hovering near the small of my back. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea?"

I breathe out trying to ignore his proximity. "I'm good, thanks. Why don't we dive right in?"

"Eager to get started, huh?" Evan teases. "I like it."

He gestures for me to take a seat on the couch as he moves to the whiteboard, uncapping a marker with a flourish. He sketches out plays, his voice animated with excitement, I lean forward, drawn in by his enthusiasm. The familiar thrill of a challenge courses through my veins, tempered only by the nagging awareness of Evan's presence, his every movement distracting in its fluidity.

This is going to be one long day, I think forcing my attention back to the task at hand. But as Evan shoots me a conspiratorial grin over his shoulder.

Evan launches into an explanation of a new play he's been working on, his hands moving animatedly as he sketches out formations on the whiteboard. "See, if we have the forwards create a diversion here," he taps the marker against the board, "it'll open up space for the backs to break through the defense."

I lean in, studying the diagram with a critical eye. "What about their flankers? They could disrupt the play if we don't account for them."

"Ah, that's where you come in, Mer." Evan grins, the nickname rolling off his tongue with easy familiarity. "I was hoping you could help me find a way to neutralize their threat."

The challenge ignites a spark within me. I rise moving to stand beside him at the whiteboard. "Okay, let's think this through." I take the marker from his hand, our fingers brushing.

Ignoring the sensation, I focus on the task at hand, making quick notations on the board. "If we shift the scrum-half to this position," I draw an arrow, "it could provide extra support and throw off their flankers' timing."

Evan nods, his eyes bright with excitement. "Brilliant! We could have the fly-half exploit the gap created by the confusion."

We lose ourselves in the strategy, our voices overlapping as we build upon each other's ideas. The world narrows down to the whiteboard, the plays taking shape before our eyes, the thrill of intellectual synergy driving us forward.

Hours pass in a blink, the sun dipping lower in the sky, sending a golden glow through the cottage windows. It's only when my stomach growls audibly that I realize how much time has elapsed.

Evan laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Looks like we lost track of time. I guess that's what happens when you're in the zone."

I chuckle. "I suppose we should take a break. Wouldn't want to strategize on an empty stomach."

"Agreed." Evan caps the marker, tossing it onto the coffee table. "I've got some snacks in the kitchen. We can refuel and then get back to it."

He heads towards the kitchen, I stretch, my muscles protesting from hours of standing. The cottage is warm and cozy - a stark contrast to the intense strategizing session.

I marvel at how easily we fell back into our old rhythm, the years melting away as if they never existed. It's both comforting and unnerving, the pull of our connection as strong as ever despite the time apart.

I follow Evan into the kitchen, determined to keep things light and focused. We've got a match to win, after all. No time for distractions, no matter how tempting they may be.

**********

Evan rummages through the cabinets, pulling out a variety of snacks. "Alright, we've got chips, pretzels, and some trail mix. Take your pick."

I grab a handful of pretzels, popping one into my mouth. "Trail mix? Feeling healthy, are we?"

He grins, tossing a piece of dried fruit at me. "Gotta keep up with the nutritional demands of coaching. Can't have the team outpacing me."

I catch the fruit, my reflexes still sharp. "Oh, I'm sure you can keep up just fine. You always were full of surprises."

"Speaking of surprises..." Evan leans against the counter. "Remember that time you convinced the team to switch to a completely new strategy right before the championship match?"

I laugh, the memory vivid. "The look on the opposing team's faces when you executed that first play... priceless."

We fall into a comfortable back-and-forth, trading stories and jokes as we munch on snacks. The tension from earlier dissipates, and it's like slipping into a favorite sweater, familiar and comforting.

The laughter dies down, I glance out the window, surprised to see the sun dipping below the horizon. "Wow, I didn't realize how late it was getting."

Evan follows my gaze, a satisfied smile on his face. "Time flies when you're having fun and making progress. I think we've got a solid plan coming together."

I nod, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Definitely. I'm actually excited to see how it all plays out on the field."

"With you on our side, I have no doubt we'll crush it." Evan's words are laced with confidence, his belief in my abilities unwavering.

"Well, I should head out. Let you get some rest before we tackle this again tomorrow."

Evan walks me to the door, his hand brushing mine as he reaches for the handle. The contact sends a jolt through me, and I pull back trying to ignore the way my skin tingles.

"Thanks for today, Merry. It means a lot to have you here, working with me again."

"I'm happy to help. I'll see you tomorrow."

The air is crisp, cold, but does little to calm the racing of my heart. The cottage disappears behind me as I walk towards my car, but the warmth of Evan's presence lingers, a reminder of the bond we once shared.

Or a hint of what could be.

My mind is abuzz with rugby plays and strategy as I drive away from Evan's cottage. The intellectual thrill of diving back into the world of competitive sports analysis has me grinning like a fool. It's been ages since I've flexed these particular mental muscles, and damn, it feels good.

But it's not just the strategizing that has me smiling. Spending time with Evan, falling back into our old rhythm of playful banter and challenges - it was like slipping on a favorite sweatshirt, cozy and familiar. I can't deny the spark of excitement that comes with being around him again.

Dangerous thoughts, Merry.

I navigate the winding roads back to town, I focus on the tasks ahead. Tomorrow, we'll dive deeper into our game plan, refining plays and anticipating potential obstacles. I can already picture Evan's face as we break down each move, his eyes lighting up with every clever suggestion.

Stop it, Merry. Professional. Remember?