“Bullshit.” Ryan glanced at the other guys at the table before turning his own grin toward Alex. “They’re all being far too nice. This is payback time, buddy. For all those times you meddled and all those times you pulled a fast one on us, we’ve got your back now.”
“Why does that sound more like a threat than a promise?”
“He’s damn smart. Some of the time,” Brad said easily as he turned toward Ashton.
Ashton just chuckled.
Great. Not only was he going to have to manoeuvre Yvette into going along with his plans, he’d have to put up with well-meaning, interfering, brothers-in-arms as well.
So be it. “You’re all a bunch of jerks.”
“Definitely.” Mack waggled his brows. “I hope you realize that no matter how hard you try, there’s one thing you and Yvette will not succeed in doing.”
Alex paused in the middle of rising from his chair. “What’s that?”
Mack folded his arms over his chest and leaned back, amusement all over his face. “The now official Annual Firefighters’ Ugly Sweater Contest. Brooke and I have got it all sewn up. Just you wait and see.”
Laughter rang. Alex glanced around at the group of men before him. Combined with all the plans he’d made for this month with Yvette, something warm and happy eased through his entire system.
Good people. Good hopes for the future. He’d said it—nothing was guaranteed, but he did feel optimistic and determined.
He was going to make this the most memorable holiday season ever for one particular, beautiful veterinarian.
Yvette had always loved Christmas morning. She’d been one of those kids who could barely be convinced to go to sleep and was always downstairs staring at the tree far too early for anyone else in her family.
She adored that sense of anticipation and the butterflies it caused in her belly. It made her feel alive. Feel as if she was trembling on the verge of fantastic new discoveries.
The key she’d found in the day-one drawer had that same Christmas morning feeling to it. Lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, Yvette timed her morning in order to prolong the giddy sensation as long as possible.
Alex had been right. Anticipation was a powerful drug.
She pulled the key ring out from under her pillow—yes, she’d been that obsessed. Leaving it somewhere by itself had seemed wrong.
Once again, the key itself held no secrets, but now that she’d had time to examine the star more closely, it was even shinier than first expected. When she clicked a small button on the back, the two halves slid apart far enough, she could clip the star onto something pointed, like the end of a pencil.
She needed to put these pretty trinkets somewhere she could appreciate them.
That idea was enough to get her legs moving, tossing back the sheets and sliding into the cool of the cabin. She took the time to get the fire going and put on the kettle before turning and assessing her options.
The one good point about how stuffed her living space was that she really could do anything she wanted. Unlike her mother and sister, whose pristine homes felt as if they’d taken the concept of minimalism to the point of monastery-like scarcity.
Might make them happy, but it was the furthest thing from comfortable and visually pleasing that Yvette could think of. She wasn’t messy—which was usually the comment they made about her decorating style that got her back up the most. Having lots of things didn’t mean there was dirt involved.
She had treasures.
“Okay. Refocus.” Yvette deliberately covered her face with her hands and blew out a long breath.
This moment was to celebrate something fun and exciting, not to deal with family demons. Yvette stared at the star cupped in her hands and thought back to the previous night. To Alex and how it felt spending time with him.
There really was nothing wrong with what they were doing. Maybe nothing would come of this escapade, but she wasn’t so overburdened with friends that she couldn’t enjoy having one more.
Inspiration struck. Yvette reached under her table and pulled out a pad of construction paper. A few minutes with the scissors and a box of craft tacks, and she’d created a new masterpiece.
When she was done, the rustic country scene she’d picked up at a yard sale that summer had been repurposed. The canvas was covered with blue paper at the top, white at the bottom, with a very amateur Christmas tree nearly filling the rest of the frame.
Thumbtacks were pushed into the canvas, and the solid wooden backing in a random pattern would allow the pretty trinkets she found to be easily displayed.
Hanging up the first key chain—the Christmas tree—got bubbles percolating in her belly.
She deliberately put the star key chain on the table and made herself breakfast, taking care to watch her time. Fifteen minutes before she had to be ready for work, she found the drawer marked with a star and unlocked it.
Another key chain plus a small, cloth bag rested in the bottom of the small drawer. Yvette tipped the contents into her palm.
“Oh, Alex.”
A silver charm bracelet lay in her hand, a tiny tree and a star already attached. A shiver stole over her skin.
She had wanted a charm bracelet forever.
Yvette hung both the star key chain and the candy-cane-shaped one for day three on her newly created Christmas tree wall hanging. She lined up the star so that it became a tree topper.
The charm bracelet she put carefully on the dresser in her bedroom.
Time sped past, with no opportunity to sit and pet the bracelet like she wanted to. Every instinct told her she should tell Alex it was too much.
She loved it, though. The bracelet was perfect. It was too much, and…
It was perfect.
She was pulling on her coat when her phone rang. Yvette answered without looking, gaze still locked on the pretty display in front of her and her thoughts still on Alex and this wild adventure he’d started them on. “Yes? What’s up?”
On the other end of the line, an exasperated sigh rang out. “How do you expect people to take you seriously when you do such things?”
The happy bubbles in her system vanished. They didn’t burst, they didn’t fizzle out. They simply were wiped away by the sound of her mother’s voice.
“Oh. Hi, Mom.”
“Well, I suppose you don’t usually answer the phone at that animal place of yours. But we taught you better than that. The first moment of a phone call sets the tone for what comes later, and in spite of your rustic career choices, you still need to be a professional if you ever want to succeed. I’m sure if you try, you can learn.”
Maybe a hint of bubbles remained in Yvette’s system, because the next thing out of her mouth was totally unexpected. “Did you have a reason to call, other than to lecture me?”
An instant snort of disapproval. “Yvette Elouise Wright. That was rude.”
So was getting a lecture after simply answering the phone. Still, Yvette leveled out her tone. “I need to head to the clinic. Was there something you needed?” Sometimes redirecting her mother worked.
Sometimes.
“Your sister won another award. Top realtor of the month for November. Isn’t that amazing? Carrie is far too modest to have told you, but we’re all going out to dinner on Saturday to celebrate. You should join us. It would be wonderful to have the entire family together. You just don’t come join us nearly often enough.”