Wrapped Up in Christmas Love (Wrapped Up in Christmas #4)

Chapter Four

“I really liked Zach,” Sophie announced as they walked into their house later that evening.

The night air hadn’t been too chilly during their drive home, but Isabelle welcomed the comforting low hum of the heating unit and its warmth greeting them.

“Did you see how sweet he was holding Jeannie when Sarah went to get another package of ornament hangers?” Sophie continued as Isabelle took off her jacket. “How great were all those cute ornaments everyone brought for her first Christmas tree?”

Yes. Isabelle had noticed. How could she not when she’d felt a ping deep in her belly at the sight of the big muscular man holding the baby, who stared up at him with complete adoration? He’d had Jeannie cooing at him when, smiling, he’d leaned closer to say something just for her little ears. What had he been saying that she found so mesmerizing? Baby-whisperer, she mentally added to Zach’s growing list. The ones she’d jotted on her real list read: Annoying. Aggravating. Pain in my side. Most irritating man I’ve ever met .

“I loved the angel one you made with her name embroidered on it.” Isabelle hung her coat on a rack just inside the doorway, then reached for Sophie’s, hoping to distract her sister.

Sophie had talked about Zach the entire drive home, wanting to know everything about him. What could Isabelle say if she’d wanted to? That she hadn’t liked how his gaze kept meeting hers while they’d decorated the tree cookies or how he’d seemed more interested in her than the game they’d played after decorating Jeannie’s tree with their ornament gifts? Not that Zach’s seemingly not paying attention had kept him from being brilliant at the game. Thanks to his quick answers, his team had beaten hers, which sure hadn’t added any stars in his crown as far as she was concerned, but had won him more points with Sophie, who’d been his teammate. Isabelle wasn’t a sore loser, but she preferred to win. Yeah, those weren’t things she wanted to tell hearts-in-her-eyes Sophie.

“The ornament you gave of the dog who looked like Harry was my absolute favorite.” Sophie peeled off her jacket and handed it over. “That was so perfect. Bodie and Sarah both commented on how much they loved it. Even Harry seemed impressed. Did you see how he kept turning his head one way, then the other, as he stared at it?”

“Harry is a great dog, but not nearly as awesome as you, right, Bobbin?” Isabelle bent to pick up the orangey-yellow cat that had followed them into the house. She ran her hand from his head to tail, stroking the feline’s soft fur.

“And to think I once thought you’d disapprove if you knew I was feeding a stray.” Sophie smiled at how the cat purred at Isabelle’s affection.

“I always knew,” Isabelle reminded. “It was hard to miss that box and bedding on the front porch.” She took a step toward the hallway. Maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to sneak into her bedroom without more grilling about Zach. “Not that Bobbin used it much once you started letting him into the house.”

“It took me long enough to lure him in.” Sophie followed behind Isabelle as she entered her room. “Speaking of luring in, tell me about when you met Zach.”

“I didn’t lure him,” she denied, sitting on her bed and eyeing where Sophie crawled up to sit facing her. You’re going to miss this , she reminded herself, even as the thought of talking about Zach made her stomach hurt.

“You met Tuesday?” Sophie prompted.

“More like the wind blew us together the day I delivered the choir sashes. Your wedding checklist escaped from my notebook.” She still hadn’t figured that one out because she knew she’d had it tucked safely inside the journal Aunt Claudia had given her last Christmas. She should have transferred the loose checklist over to the book with the dozens of other lists jotted there, but how could she have known? “Zach caught it before the wind could blow it away, then acted as if he’d slain a dragon for me or something.”

“He looks as if he could slay a few dragons.” Leaning forward to pet Bobbin, Sophie waggled her brows. “I think you should let him.”

“What?” Isabelle frowned and gasped simultaneously. “I don’t need him, or anyone, to slay dragons for me.”

Did Sophie think Isabelle needed someone to slay dragons? That she hadn’t done a great job taking care of their family since their dad had left? Had she missed something?

“I didn’t say you needed him to. I said you should let him.” Sophie giggled as Bobbin licked her hand. “Zach sure acted as if he wanted to impress you.”

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “The only way he’s impressed me is with how annoying he is.” Liar. There’s that something in his eyes when he looks at you and what about when he’d grabbed your hand? What had all that razzle-dazzle sparking to life inside her been about? “Even if I was interested, which I’m not, his having a military background would nip that.”

Sophie’s chin lifted. “Cole has a military background and he’s the best man I know.”

“Cole is the exception.” Hopefully, she’d still believe that fifty years down the road.

“On that, he really isn’t.” Sophie picked up a throw pillow, toying with the tassels. “Take Bodie, for instance. He’s a great man, too. Just look at what a protective, loving husband and father he is. I’ve never seen Sarah happier.”

Isabelle couldn’t argue. Their friend had always been a happy, positive person, but Bodie had brought a whole new level of joy to her life.

“Besides,” Sophie continued, hugging the pillow. “You really need to stop judging every person who’s been in the military by what Dad did. Dad was the exception, Isabelle. Not Cole or Bodie, and probably not Zach, either.”

Ouch. She and Sophie rarely discussed their father and hadn’t mentioned him since the dress fitting. That she was trying to track the man down for her sister didn’t mean she wanted to talk about him. She didn’t.

“I know that not every person who has been in the military suffers with transitioning back into civilian life the way that Dad did.” She shrugged. “I know that most don’t. Thank goodness. Maybe they try harder than Dad did.”

Sophie’s face was aghast. “You think Dad didn’t try to fit into our lives? Just because he was the exception doesn’t mean he didn’t want to fit in. He did.”

Isabelle’s skin prickled to where she suspected whelps were popping out. She stroked Bobbin’s length again, letting her fingers curl around his long tail, hoping it would calm her. “Let’s not have this conversation.”

“I think we should,” Sophie surprised her by saying. “I know I was younger when Dad left, but I don’t think his leaving was an easy decision.”

“Like you said, you were younger.” And because she’d rather discuss anything other than their father, she asked something that would redirect Sophie. “What do you think I should pack for my picnic with Zach? I don’t know what he likes.”

Sophie eyed her for a moment, then made a decision. The right one. “He likes Christmas cookies because I saw him munching on several tonight.”

“And Ruby’s Christmas sausage balls.” Isabelle sighed with relief that Sophie had let her get away with the subject change. “I thought he and Bodie were going to fight over who got them when Ruby started packing up and wanted to know if anyone wanted the leftovers.”

“Well, there you go. Cookies and sausage balls.” Sophie smiled. “My thoughts are that he doesn’t care what y’all eat, Izzy. It’s your company he’s after.”

Her pulse pounded. “I’m not sure why. We don’t get along.”

“I’ve always heard opposites attract.”

“Maybe.” Isabelle picked up Bobbin, stroking the cat’s fur. “Why am I stressing over this? I told him I’d pack sandwiches and that’s what I’ll do. I’ll slice an apple and bring some yogurt. It’ll be fine.” If it wasn’t, too bad. He shouldn’t have put her on the spot that way in front of her sister. Hugging Bobbin close, she leaned over and kissed Sophie’s cheek. “Thanks for the pep talk, sis. It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

Sophie said good night.

Then, as she reached the door, Isabelle stopped her. “Hey, Sophie? Don’t make a big deal out of lunch with Zach, okay? Because it’s really not.”

It wasn’t, but that didn’t keep Isabelle from seeing his grinning face when, after getting ready for bed, she crawled between her sheets. Bobbin leapt up beside her, deciding sleeping by her head was where he deigned to be. Once he settled down, his long tail plopped across her face.

Brushing away his tail, Isabelle rolled toward the cat, who yawned, then closed his eyes, leaving Isabelle a little envious of his easy slumber.

“I don’t like Zach, Bobbin. I really, really don’t.”

*

A pleasant blend of cinnamon and pine hit Zach the moment he stepped into The Threaded Needle. Although the walls were white, color splashed everywhere. Christmas was prominent, but there were themed areas featuring other holidays, colors, babies, kids, sports teams, and military. His gaze lingered on the military section with its intricate red, white, and blue quilt proudly displayed. Stars with perfectly angled points ran across the quilt diagonally and arrows bordered the edges. Immediately, he was drawn to that display, taking in the patriotic fabrics, surrounding supplies, and the quilt’s intricate stitching.

“If you touch that quilt, you have to buy it,” Isabelle scolded from where she’d walked up behind him.

Even over the shop’s merry fragrance, he could smell her apple pie lotion and fought the urge to deeply inhale as he turned toward her. She wore a fuzzy, green, long-sleeved sweater. Her hair fell straight, framing her face. Her blue gaze stared at the army star on his chest. Sarah had suggested he change. He’d declined. He liked keeping his wardrobe simple and had packed accordingly, bringing only a handful of T-shirts, jeans, and a few workout items.

“Buying such a beauty wouldn’t be a bad thing.” Not that he believed her warning, but if so, it would be a nice addition to his rather barren DC condominium and would give him something to mimic if he ever ventured beyond making blocks. “How much do I owe you?”

“Actually, you’re in luck, as that particular quilt isn’t available.” She almost sounded disappointed that he’d acquiesced so readily. “Sophie plans to donate it to Quilts of Valor.”

“The organization Sarah sews for?” That he also sewed for, but he wasn’t ready to share that with Isabelle.

She nodded. “Sophie heads up the local chapter and Sarah is an active member.”

Studying her, he asked, “You’re not a member?”

“No.” She didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t need to.

Her annoyed expression was answer enough. Yeah, he’d just keep his own active membership to himself.

“What they do is important. Sarah’s quilt and generous heart pulled Bodie from a dark place.” And had indirectly done the same for Zach.

He wasn’t sure how to explain how Bodie telling him about Sarah and her quilt had reached inside him at his darkest point when he’d been wrestling with demons too many of his brothers and sisters in arms lost their battle with. His wise occupational therapist had used his fascination to help him focus on rehabbing his hand and his inner psyche.

He was quite proud of the squares he’d made for the group’s annual block drive. “I’d like to buy something for Sarah. She’s the kindest person I’ve ever met. Will you help me choose something she’d like?”

If Isabelle had looked surprised before, she now looked floored. “You want to buy Sarah a gift? I… of course, I’ll help. That’s my job. What’s your price range?”

“Whatever you think.” Money didn’t mean much to Zach. He’d inherited a hefty sum from his grandmother, had lived minimally, and invested wisely. He had his military check and Lukas paid him a small fortune. Financially, he didn’t have to work. But mentally and emotionally, Zach needed to be serving in ways that made the world a safer, better place.

“I’m not sure telling a business owner whatever she thinks is a good idea when she’s trying to sell you something,” Isabelle pointed out, still eyeing him with an odd expression.

His gaze met hers, and for once she didn’t immediately look away. “I’ll buy Sarah whatever you suggest, Blondie. I trust you.”

Odd since she professed to not like him, but Zach did trust her. His every instinct said Isabelle Davis was a woman of her word—except when it came to her claims of not liking him. On that, her eyes contradicted her words of dislike.

“I, uh, okay,” she stammered, then tucked her hair behind her ear. “Lucky for you, I won’t march you over to our longarm machines.”

The fancy sewing machines must be the most expensive item in the shop.

“Does Sarah need a longarm?”

Eyes wide, Isabelle shrugged. “Sophie would say every woman needs a longarm quilting machine, but your wallet is safe. Sarah prefers to sew on her Aunt Jean’s old Singer.”

Zach knew the machine Isabelle referred to. It was the one Sarah had been using that morning when she’d grilled him on his picnic with Isabelle and had offered advice as if he planned to woo and date her friend. He wasn’t going to be in town that long, so dating Isabelle wasn’t why they were going to lunch. But she fascinated him, and he wanted to help her.

“Sarah has been eyeing some of the quilt kits that Sophie recently put together. Maybe you could get her one of those?” Isabelle gestured to the red, white, and blue quilt he’d touched.

“What’s in a quilt kit?”

“The items you need to make your own quilt already gathered together. Sophie organizes everything and does a fantastic job meeting our customers’ needs. There are various kits. Some just have patterns. Others have everything you need to complete the quilt top. Others include batting, backing, thread, the whole works from start to finish. Essentially, we offer something for everyone.”

“I’ll take that one.” At Isabelle’s questioning look, he clarified. “The one with everything.”

She named a price as if that might scare him off.

“That’s all? Make it two, then.” Maybe he’d give making a quilt from start to finish a try, especially if he ended up staying as Sarah was insisting he do.

“Two?” Isabelle’s forehead scrunched, then, seeming uncomfortable, she pulled a couple of bulky packages from the shelf. Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth and her fingers tugged at the plastic wrapping. “Can I ask why you’re buying Sarah a gift?”

He arched his brow. “Isn’t it customary to give a house gift when a guest, or did you expect me to be such a heathen that I wouldn’t know that?”

“Definitely the latter,” she said, still picking at the plastic. “Do you want me to ring these up now or after lunch?”

He had nowhere to store them since he’d had Bodie drop him off. “I’ll pay now and grab them after lunch.”

Isabelle headed toward the cashier counter. She rang up his items and told him the total. “I’ll get our lunch from the back and then we can get this over with.”

“Don’t sound so excited,” he teased, handing her his debit card. “By the way, I feel guilty. When I invited you to lunch, I didn’t mean for you to prepare our food.”

“It wasn’t a big deal.” She slid his card into the machine. He started to say it was, but she stayed him. “Really, it wasn’t. I didn’t do a single thing. I got up this morning planning to make sandwiches to find Sophie already in the kitchen with a basket and cooler bag packed with who knows what?”

“You didn’t look?”

She shook her head. “She wasn’t finished and said she would bring them to the shop. I was busy when she got here and never took the time.”

“No worries. Your lunch is perfect,” Sophie called, obviously listening in to their conversation, as she came through a door behind the counter. Wearing a bright red shirt covered with tiny Santa faces with fuzzy white balls on top of each hat, she carried a large cloth bag with the shop’s logo on it, identical to the one Isabelle had been carrying on the day they’d met. A Christmas quilt overflowed from the top. “Zach, I love that you’re buying Sarah a hostess gift. That’s so sweet, isn’t it, Izzy?”

Isabelle grimaced. “Sugary so.”

“Here. You’re going to need this.” Sophie handed Zach the bag. “Sarah called a little while ago and said you were interested in signing up for my sewing class.”

He hadn’t even known Sophie had a sewing class, but that the shop would offer them made sense. He suspected Sarah had her reasons for telling Sophie he was interested, reasons that involved the woman frowning at her sister.

“Why would Sarah think that?” Isabelle handed Zach’s debit card back to him.

“Zach’s been helping her cut and pin pieces and has even sewn a few pieces with her.” Sophie smiled big, even as Isabelle’s jaw dropped. “She’s not getting to sew as much as she’d like since Jeannie’s been born and says you’ve been a great help on her current quilt.”

Heat flooded Zach’s face. “Sarah’s a good teacher.”

“Isabelle is, too,” Sophie assured. “Our Grandma Belle taught us when we were little, but since Mom doesn’t sew, it was Isabelle who helped me fine-tune my sewing skills. She’s a perfectionist and, although not necessary, that trait comes in handy when quilting and wanting your seams to line up properly.”

Shoving his packages toward him, Isabelle shook her head. “I’m not the one who teaches sewing classes.”

“Not usually, but you have when needed.” Sophie smiled sweetly at Zach. “She’s promised to cover any of this session’s classes that I need a night to prepare for the wedding. It’s the week before Christmas, you know.”

Color splashed into Isabelle’s cheeks. Zach gave Sophie credit. She knew how to play her sister, but Isabelle wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Ben may not like you recruiting competition.” She turned to Zach. “He’s one of Cole’s best friends and a fellow firefighter. He only signed up because Sophie assured him most of her other students were single women under thirty.”

Sophie’s laugh was sparkly. “Ben may not be back. The women in the class were more interested in him than he was in them or sewing, unfortunately.” Concern flitted across her face. “With Andrew being married, and now Cole about to be, I do worry about him. He’s the one who’s always wanted a wife and children, but just hasn’t met the one yet.” Sophie’s gaze pinned Zach. “What about you? Are you looking for the one?”

“No, ma’am.” He coughed to clear his throat. “Marriage isn’t for me. I’m a bachelor for life.”

He’d never wanted married life, never even considered it as an option. He’d only wanted to be a soldier. Now, he couldn’t do his first love, but still couldn’t picture himself living a white-picket-fence life. He’d likely die working at iSecure or someplace like it where he still tasted remnants of the life-on-the-edge he’d once lived.

Giggling, Sophie waved her hand dismissively. “I’ve heard that before. Be warned. Pine Hill has a way of claiming hearts.”

“Okay, Soph, you can leave Zach alone now,” Isabelle advised, obviously embarrassed by her sister’s blatant matchmaking. “I’m not going to have time for lunch if we don’t get on the move.”

Unfazed, Sophie ignored Isabelle and kept smiling. “You really should sign up for my class. You’ve missed the first two, but from what Sarah says, you didn’t need those bare minimum basics, anyway. But if you did, Isabelle can catch you up.”

“I’ll think on it,” Zach said, doubting he’d agree.

“I’m starved.” Isabelle scooped up the basket and gestured toward the cooler bag. “Zach, grab that, please. You can carry it and the blanket bag. We need to be on our way to the park so I can get back to work.”

“Great to see you again, Zach,” Sophie called from behind them. “Come back real soon. My next class is Monday evening at six. Hope to see you there.”

*

Isabelle had begun to wonder if they were ever going to leave the shop.

The sunny November day greeted her when she stepped out onto the sidewalk, causing her to wish she’d grabbed her sunglasses. The soft breeze carried the scent of Mom and Pop’s Pizzeria, making her stomach growl. She’d been in such a rush to get away from Sophie’s picnic planning that morning that she’d not eaten breakfast.

“I like your sister.”

Isabelle squinted at Zach. “Everyone does.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No. The sun was in my eyes.” However, that he’d moved into step beside her to where he shaded her face from the sun did bother her. Not that she didn’t appreciate his instantaneous chivalry, but it was easier not to think of him as considerate.

As they walked along the sidewalk, Carrie stepped out of Paw Parties and waved. Isabelle smiled, waved back, but didn’t pause to talk to the shop’s owner.

“Besides,” she mused, walking faster, “why would everyone liking Sophie bother me?”

She couldn’t imagine the person who wouldn’t like her sunshiny, life-is-a-bowl-of-Christmas-candy sister.

“You tell me. You’re the one whose voice went up an octave or two.”

“ Humph . That had nothing to do with Sophie and everything to do with you,” she assured, marveling at how he stayed perfectly in step with her increased speed, keeping her face shadowed. Once they crossed the street, heading down Main, she abruptly slowed, just to see if he’d match suit. Without missing a step, he did.

His lips twitched. “Why is that?”

“Because you’re so annoying. Surely someone has pointed out that to you in the past?”

He snorted. “Only my brother.”

“You have a brother?” The serious, almost sad way he answered had Isabelle wishing she could take her question back.

She didn’t want to think of him as human, either. Then again, he wasn’t human. Humans didn’t anticipate pace changes the way he had.

“Hard to believe I didn’t just crawl from the fiery recesses of the earth, eh?”

That his demeanor had instantly gone back to teasing relieved her in ways she would tear apart later, when she wasn’t with him. She needed all her brain cells to stay on task for the here and now.

“Well, I didn’t quite buy that a stork dropped you off at your parents’ doorstep.”

“No stork,” he assured, chuckling. “Although, in this town, you probably believe that it’s flying reindeer who drop off babies.”

Isabelle bit back a smile. “There are those in town who could be convinced of that.”

“But you’re not one of them?”

“I’m a realist,” she admitted, suspecting he was the same. “Do you have other siblings?”

Zach shook his head. “No, Brett and I are it.”

“Are you close?”

He shrugged. “Not particularly. He never understood my career choice.”

“He didn’t want you to join the military?” Why was she asking personal questions?

She didn’t need to know any of this for him to find her father. The less she knew about Zach, the better.

“That was just the start.” Zach shrugged. “Even before my military career ended, he thought I’d made a mess of my life and should have followed in his and my dad’s footsteps.”

Curiosity almost got the better of her, but Isabelle forced herself not to pry. Possibly because of how his shoulders had lifted, almost defensively. Zach seemed so together on the surface, so easygoing, but maybe that wasn’t really the case.

“I can’t imagine not being close to Sophie,” she admitted as they made their way along the sidewalk toward the city park.

Why would his brother think he’d made a mess of his life? If he had, was that why he was staying at Hamilton House? Had Bodie and Sarah put him in the Beds for Vets suite for reasons other than that the room had been open? Sarah had mentioned injuries. Was there something wrong with Zach? Something that couldn’t be seen? Not your business, Isabelle.

“Do you think that closeness will change after she and Cole get married?” Zach stayed in step beside her, even though they’d made it beyond the storefronts and were heading down a shady street that led to the park entrance.

“Even when I lived in Nashville, we talked most days.” Plus, she and Sophie would still see each other frequently between the shop and church. “I’ve no doubt we’ll always be close.”

“You lived in Nashville?”

She cut her eyes toward him. “Why sound so surprised?”

“I got the impression no one ever left Pine Hill.”

She gave a low laugh that really didn’t have much humor to it. “Shocking that some of us do, isn’t it? No worries, though. We always seem to find our way back.”

His expression grew thoughtful. “Is Sophie why you came back?”

Glad to see the park wasn’t that busy, Isabelle headed toward the concrete greenway that began on the opposite end of the parking lot and ran along the river.

“Although she was three years younger, Sophie and I both worked at the quilt shop during my high school years. I left for college. Sophie stayed, finished school, and started working full-time. After I graduated, I stayed in Nashville and worked for an accounting firm until the shop came up for sale and Sophie needed me as her partner to pull off buying it.”

“Any regrets?”

“None.” She’d always known she’d come back to be near her family. It was why she’d not allowed herself to be too devastated when Greg had dumped her after they’d dated for three years. He’d been a workaholic, too, and sometimes she thought they’d just enjoyed having someone to go to dinner with after their long workdays. Still, his telling her he no longer wanted them to be a couple had stung.

“You sound as if you enjoyed your job in Nashville.”

“I did,” she admitted. “But I enjoy the business side of the quilt shop, too, watching it grow and become more successful. Sophie is why the shop looks so fabulous.”

“And you’re the brains behind the scenes?”

“Sophie does more than her share and has pulled long hours over the years since we bought the shop. She’s the creative genius of the business and I’m happiest in the office, crunching numbers.” She smiled. “I like numbers.”

“Me, too.”

Stepping onto to the greenway, Isabelle gave him a questioning look.

“Numbers make sense.” He stayed next to her beneath the large oak tree-lined path as they headed past a playground with a few families there. “Numbers are black and white and mean what they mean.” He shrugged. “They just make sense.”

“Exactly.”

A girl Isabelle had gone to high school with sat on the bench near the playground, watching her kids play and, spotting Isabelle, waved. As she’d done with Carrie, Isabelle waved back, but didn’t stop to chat. There were times living in a friendly small town were problematic. She’d hoped no one would see her and Zach. She supposed she should be grateful it had only been the few so far and fortunately no Butterflies. Yet .

“Numbers are constant and unchanging,” he continued. “Finite. You know what you’re getting. You—”

Isabelle came to a quick stop to gawk at him. “No. No. No.”

“What?”

“Just…” The gentle November breeze messed with her hair and, tightly gripping the bag she carried, she blew the stray strands from her face. “I don’t want to have anything in common with you.”

He laughed. “Afraid I’ll win you over?”

“You can’t win me over.” Not really, but he’d been surprising her from the moment he walked into the quilt shop.

A big, buff soldier who bought his hostess a thoughtful gift? Yeah, she’d liked that. That he helped Sarah? Yep, she liked that, too. That his take on numbers echoed hers? Well, she didn’t want to think of him as an intelligent being.

Sighing, she glanced around, decided the sooner they got started, the sooner they’d finish, so their current location was as good as any. She stepped onto the grassy park lawn and walked past a couple of concrete picnic tables located near some trees along the bank that would provide a cover from anyone walking the greenway.

“I can’t?” He fell into step beside her. “You should know that I’ve never backed down from a challenge, even missions deemed impossible.”

Shifting the picnic basket, she eyed him. “Is that what I am to you? A challenge because you’re bored during your visit to our little Christmasy town?”

“I’m not bored, Blondie.”

He didn’t look bored. He looked amused. At her expense. She could blame no one but herself. She needed to quit giving him entertainment fodder.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she reminded. “Do you see me as a challenge? Is that what this is about?”

He studied her, then shrugged a shoulder. “If I say yes, you’re a challenge, that’s going to upset you. If I say, no, you’re not a challenge, you’re going to set out to prove me wrong so that you can be upset. Either way I can’t win and, as much as I enjoy sparring with you, I’d rather enjoy this semi-nice weather and your company without upsetting you.”

Was that why she’d persisted? Because she’d purposely set him up to fail? She wanted him to fail. Needed him to fail because she didn’t want to like him. Fine. She’d talk about something else. Anything else.

“The weather is more than semi-nice. For November, it’s wonderful. The high temperature was supposed to be in the low sixties, but it feels warmer. Great, even, for the time of year. If you’re cold, you should wear a coat.” She wished he was wearing a coat. Anything that covered up those muscled arms and that blasted T-shirt had her vote.

“I’m not cold.”

A hair tickled her face again, and she swiped her forearm across her cheek, hoping to fix the disarray. “Then why say semi-nice?”

“Because that breeze keeps blowing your hair in your face. I want to tuck it behind your ear, but figured I’d be facing an arctic chill if I did.”

Her stomach launched into gold medal-worthy somersaults. Ugh. She was too smart to be taken in by this man’s charms. He was a here-today, gone-tomorrow military man. Could there possibly be a worse choice for her to be attracted to? Not that she was attracted to him, but if she were, he’d be a terrible choice.

“I should have worn a scarf,” she murmured. Putting the basket down on a mostly shielded from the greenway picnic table, she then tucked her hair behind her ears in hopes it stayed. No reason to tempt fate. Not fate. Zach. No reason to tempt Zach. He was not her fate .

He gestured to a grassy area thirty or so yards away. “Let’s do as your sister suggested last night and eat by the riverbank. I’m sure that’s why she sent the blanket.”

Isabelle had no doubt. Sophie had learned from the best. “There’s no telling what she packed in her Christmas picnic basket.”

“Or in this giant bag.” He gestured to the one with the shop’s logo. “It’s heavy at the bottom.”

When she stopped ten feet or so from where the bank sloped down to a rocky area along the river, Zach pulled the quilt from the bag. “Yep. Lots more here than just a quilt.”

Eyeing the red and green holly-patterned pillow Zac held, along with the matching holly Christmas quilt, Isabelle glanced in the bag and shook her head. “You’ll have to excuse my sister. She’s getting married in a month and has bride brain. Hopefully, she’ll learn to pack lighter prior to her honeymoon.”

“I don’t mind a tiny Christmas tree, Christmas mugs and”—he gestured to the thermos she pulled from the bag—“based upon the bag of marshmallows, I’m guessing this is hot chocolate.”

“I’d rather have water,” Isabelle mumbled, placing the bottle on the ground, then helping him smooth out the quilt over the grass. “And be at work.”

“Than to be outside? Breathing in fresh air? Hearing the rippling of the water? I like numbers, but it’s a rare day I’d rather be indoors than outside. Relax.” He popped one of the tiny marshmallows into his mouth. “It’s only lunch.”

Lunch her sister had packed. Lunch with a man who rattled her insides. Lunch that was a picnic by the river, but okay, it was only lunch. A romantic Christmas picnic kind of only lunch.

Shaking her head at Sophie’s whimsicalness, she picked up the plastic tree to place it on one corner of the quilt and noticed the bottom. “I think we’re supposed to listen to Christmas songs while we eat. This thing winds up.”

“Cool. Wind ’er up, then let’s see what’s in the basket. I’m hungry and these marshmallows aren’t cutting it.”

“Hey, stay out of those,” she scolded when he scooped a few more out of the bag. “They’re for the hot chocolate.”

With “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” mingling with the river’s gurgling, they pulled item after item from the basket and cooler bag.

Pausing to look at the spread, Zach whistled. “She’s good.”

“Yep.” And not just her, because there was no way her sister had put this together by herself.

She’d had help. Butterfly help. Isabelle should have suspected when she’d glanced up at the shop’s security monitor and seen Ruby coming into the shop. And not thirty minutes later, Aunt Claudia and Rosie had. Eyeing the foil-covered loaf, Isabelle frowned. That had better not be what she thought it was. Kneeling on the quilt, she picked up the loaf and began unwrapping the foil. Even before she could see the contents, cinnamon wafted on the air.

“I’m telling Santa on all of them. Nothing but coal for the whole lot,” she grumbled, wondering if Zach would think her crazy if she tossed the bread into the river.

He’d been unpacking plates with candy canes on them, red cloth napkins, red utensils, and two wrapped Christmas presents.

Leaning over to see what she held, his brows knitted together. “You have something against cinnamon bread?”

“I have something major against this particular bread.” Sophie was in so much trouble when Isabelle got back to the shop. Those presents better be handwritten apologies. “This is Rosie’s cinnamon bread.”

“The blue-haired lady with a lot of spunk?”

Isabelle nodded.

“It smells good.” Before she realized what he was doing, Zach pinched off a generous piece and took a bite. “ Mmm . That’s good.”

“No! Spit it out.” Panicked, she grabbed for the remaining bread in his hand.

“Too late.” Confusion distorted his face. “Have I been poisoned?”

“Same as.” She sighed. “Rumor has it that Rosie’s cinnamon bread has special powers to make a man fall for the first woman he sees after taking a bite.”