Merry with a Playmaker (Love Beach Holiday Collection)

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.