The Christmas Cookie Crush (Arcadian Falls Christmas #4)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Nora

Nervous anticipation thrums through my veins as we finish setting up for the open house on Thursday evening. It’s the one day out of the whole month when Mom and Dad close the North Pole early so they can host their party.

Dylan and Lydia got in last night, Ty and Olivia arrived yesterday morning, and Sarah, Shane, and Sophie—Shane’s nine-year-old sister—are here helping set up as well. Instead of arriving right before Christmas and staying through New Year’s, everyone is here early for the open house and leaving pretty soon after Christmas Day. The house feels better being full of family like this. It’s felt empty and forlorn since I got back, and there’s a stark difference now that all my siblings and their significant others are here.

But my nerves and anticipation have nothing to do with them.

No, it’s all down to him. Austin Stanton. The bane of my existence.

He’s coming. I know he is. He made a point of stopping by the North Pole before ChristmasFest opened this morning and telling my mom he’d be here tonight. And he did it while I was in earshot, glancing my way to make sure I was listening, too.

And of course I was. Because every time he’s around, I can’t help going on high alert, wondering what he’ll say or do next.

I try to convince myself it’s because I want to be prepared for any more pranks, but deep down, I know that’s not entirely accurate. Especially since the worst thing he’s done is have someone give me a few pieces of sour candy, and he only did that once.

Although, Dylan’s here tonight, so who knows what could happen?

Except they’re not twelve anymore. And you’re not ten. And anyway, Lydia’s here. Dylan’s not going to make a complete ass of himself in front of his girlfriend, is he?

No. He’s not.

So Austin being here is no big deal. Not any size of deal at all. It’s nothing to me. This is a big party full of lots of people and food and I don’t have to talk to him if I don’t want to.

Which I don’t.

It’ll be easy to avoid him.

With that settled in my mind, I return my attention to helping Mom set out the food. That’s what I need to focus on right now anyway.

“Nora!” she cries. “Watch out!”

“Gah!” I manage not to trip on the rogue stack of cups rolling across the floor, but I bobble the full bowl of dip I’m carrying. A glop of it slips up over the rim and splashes down my front.

Setting the bowl down, I survey the damage.

“Here,” Mom says, thrusting a damp washcloth at me.

I make halfhearted swipes at my sweater, but it just smears the dip into the cables. This year, I felt like bucking the ugly sweater trend and went for a classic white cable-knit sweater instead, but so much for that idea.

“Oh, your sweater!” Lydia exclaims.

Sighing, I shake my head. “I guess I better change.”

Sarah stops me on my way to my room, looking at my chest and nodding. “I’ll come with you. We can get the stain out if we get to it right away. At least it’s not cranberry sauce.”

“Put on something that’s not white!” Dylan calls after us, and if Mom and Dad weren’t here, I’d flip him off.

“I’ll wear what I want!” I retort over my shoulder instead.

Sarah snorts. “You guys. I swear. You still act like you did when you were little kids. I spent the most time breaking up your squabbles when I had to babysit. When are you going to grow out of that?”

Irritated at having to change, at my sister scolding me, and doubly so at how close it comes to what Austin said the other day, I shove my hair out of my face, prickly heat crawling up my neck. “Never, I guess.” I pull open a drawer, then slam it closed again, facing my sister with my hands on my hips. “Or maybe when I’m forty. Or, I dunno, Sarah. Why don’t you tell me? You and Ty still get into it like you’re five. When are you two gonna grow out of it?”

She waves a hand, shooing away my words. “Please. Ty and I don’t act anything like you and Dylan do.”

Crossing my arms, I arch one eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

She rolls her eyes and makes gimme motions with her hands. “Are you gonna change, or what? I thought you’d welcome my help getting the stain out. Or isn’t that one of your favorite sweaters anymore?”

She’s right, but I don’t want to admit to it out loud. Rolling my eyes, I drop my arms and turn to my dresser again. “I don’t know what to wear,” I admit, sounding as petulant and childish as she accused me of just a second ago.

“Who cares?” she asks sensibly. “Why aren’t you wearing the traditional Christmas sweater? Or are you too cool for that now like Dylan?”

I snort. She’s right. Dylan’s the only one, besides me, not rocking a Christmas sweater today. Shane’s even has real Christmas lights on the tree on his.

Grinning, I shoo her out of the way of my closet. “I’m not too cool for the Christmas sweater tradition. I just …” I shrug, biting my lip. “I thought I’d change it up a little this year. Besides, this sweater looks good on me.”

Sarah gives me an assessing look. “There’s a boy, isn’t there?”

I scoff.

“Oh, I’m sorry. A man , is that better? But please don’t tell me he’s like forty or something.” She makes gagging sounds. “I mean, I know it’s Arcadian Falls and dating options aren’t exactly abundant, but don’t go for some skeevy asshole twice your age.”

I pull the first Christmas sweater I can find off the shelf in my closet and hold it up. It’s a Fair Isle design that I actually think is pretty. Plus it’s on theme. It doesn’t hug my curves quite as nicely as my white cabled sweater, but it’ll do.

Peeling off the white sweater, I toss it at Sarah. “Number one, I never said there was a boy or a man, thank you. And number two, if there were”—I pause long enough to get the sweater over my head and hold up a finger at my sister—“and I’m not saying there is, but if there were a guy, he definitely wouldn’t be a skeevy asshole twice my age.”

“That’s a relief,” Sarah mutters.

“If he’s going to be twice my age,” I continue, fixing my hair and checking my makeup in the mirror over my dresser, “he’ll be a rich, sophisticated, silver fox.”

With that, I turn for the door, leaving Sarah gaping after me, my stained sweater dangling from her fingers. “Wait, what? Nora? Nora!”

But I just wiggle my fingers in a wave. “Gotta go finish helping set up. Better hurry if you’re going to deal with the stain. Or leave it on my bed, and I’ll get to it later.”

Her growl of frustration as she follows me out of my room makes me laugh.

But when I return to the living room, everything’s already set up. Dad has Christmas music playing over the sound system, and my parents and siblings—minus Sarah—and their partners are all chatting. Dad’s dancing with Sophie and Mom’s taking a video of it, clearly besotted with both of them.

As much as my siblings and I might bicker and tease each other, I love it when we’re all together like this. And adding Shane and Sophie, Olivia, and Lydia has only made our family better. Happier. They fit in and add to everything.

“Oh, I like that sweater,” Lydia says as she slides up next to me. “Here, I got you some punch. You looked like you were getting warm from moving everything around before.”

“Thanks,” I tell her, accepting the red paper cup. I look down at my sweater. “This is one of my favorite Christmas sweaters. It’s on theme and isn’t ugly, even if it doesn’t look as good on me as the white one.”

She looks me over and shrugs. “I think you look great in both of them. We got in so late last night, and today’s been so busy, I feel like we haven’t had any time to catch up! And I feel like we’ve barely texted since Halloween! How was your last semester? How are things here? How’s ChristmasFest this year? I told Dylan we have to go tomorrow. He grumbled, but I’m gonna drag him along anyway. I think it’ll be good for him.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “You definitely should. And if he gets too grumpy, send him home and come hang with me. I’ll wander with you on my break. Or we can go together when I have a day off. I should have Sunday off, assuming no one calls in sick again.” I hold up my crossed fingers.

“Why not both?” Lydia says, shrugging dramatically.

Soon, the house is filling with people, and Lydia and I are interrupted by other guests and well-wishers wanting to catch up with both of us.

I’m so caught up in all the festivities that I completely forget any lingering nerves from before the party started.

Until the door opens, and he’s here. Austin Stanton, in the flesh.

We lock eyes for a beat, but I quickly look away, pushing the corners of my mouth back into the smile that slipped when I saw him and refocusing on my conversation with Shane and Sarah’s neighbors, Hal and Georgia, who are the sweetest older couple I’ve ever met. They even give Dale and Diane, Austin’s grandparents, a run for their money.

And anyway, Dylan’s here. Austin was specifically invited because Mom thought he and Dylan would want to catch up. Him being here has nothing to do with me at all. So I don’t need to notice or care about where he is, who he’s talking to, or what’s in the white bakery box he’s carrying.

But when Georgia says, “Oh, well then,” in a delighted tone and Hal’s eyes look past my shoulder, I know he’s got to be right behind me. I can practically feel his presence.

Turning slowly, I find him standing there holding up the bakery box.

“This is for you.”