Page 13 of A Newport Christmess

“Don’t look, Quinn. It won’t help.” Ashlee’s voice pulled me back to my senses. “I’m sorry I mentioned it. I only wanted to point out that it’s not fair. You need to give yourself permission to date. Or, at the very least, to not feel guilty when you find a man attractive.” When I didn’t answer, Ashlee let out a long sigh. “I get that it’s hard to move on—”

“Not for Cody.” My chest buzzed. Perhaps Ashlee was right. Moping about and wishing things were different wasn’t getting me anywhere. While my ex was out having the time of his life, all I had was my newly developed true-crime obsession and my stagnant social media following. All in all, I was not living my best life. Or anything partially resembling it. Or anything even resembling a resemblance of it.

“What did you say Nikki’s brother’s name was again?” Ashlee asked. “Landon Aker?”

I groaned. Though, inwardly, I was grateful for the subject change. “Don’t look him up.”

The line went quiet momentarily. “Bummer. It doesn’t look like he has an Instagram account. Let me try LinkedIn.” Another pause. “Is he general counsel at Carrigan Enterprises?”

“I don’t know. I just met him.” Though Carrigan was Kade’s last name. Maybe Landon worked for his family’s company.

“This guy looks like a freaking GQ model in his profile picture.”

That was probably him, then. “Does he have dark hair and copper eyes?”

“Yes. Here.” She went silent again, then my phone dinged with a text from Ashlee.

I opened it to find a picture of Landon sporting a navy-blue blazer and giving an attractive closed-lip smile. “Yep. That’s him.”

“Holy hottie! Is he that handsome in real life, or did they use some kind of Photoshop magic on him?”

Despite myself, I smiled. Landon was incredibly handsome, and like Ashlee said, I didn’t need to feel bad for thinking so. “Probably more handsome in real life.”

“Honestly, Quinn, if you don’t take advantage of this situation, I will never let you—”

A knock at the door drowned out the rest of Ashlee’s threat. My whole body went on alert—not like a fight-or-flight response, but an I’m-oddly-too-excited-to-control-my-thinking-brain kind of response. “I have to go,” I whispered. “Someone’s here.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

I started toward the door, trying to ignore the annoying fluttering in my stomach. “I don’t know.”

“It totally is. Go get your flirt on!” She ended her comment with a loud “whoop” that echoed off the walls.

“You’re the worst,” I hissed, quickly taking the phone off speaker and wishing I could hang up on her to make my point. “I’ll call you back tonight. Answer this time. I had to do my nighttime house check without you.”

“I’m so sorry. I was out with potential clients.”

The knock sounded again, followed by Landon’s muffled voice. “Quinn, it’s Landon. You in there?”

“Coming!” I called to preempt him from using his key.

“You’d better tell me every detail,” Ashlee said.

“I will, but I’ve got to go.” I ended the call and wedged the phone onto the counter between trays of gingerbread. My hand settled on the knob, and I drew in a calming breath, then another. If Cody could move on so easily, maybe I should give it a go.

Filled with resolve, I opened the door. Landon’s large frame filled the small landing, a medium-sized cardboard box in his arms. My neck craned back to meet his gaze. With the distance I’d kept between us last night—me threatening him from the kitchen—I hadn’t realized how tall he was. He had to be a good foot and a few inches taller than my five-foot-one-inch self—well, five-foot-one on a good day, which, ironically, was never on the days they measured me at the doctor’s office. But my driver’s license proudly displayed 5’1’’, and the few times I’d been pulled over, I’d never had a police officer challenge the extra inch when they inspected my license. So it was basically official.

“Morning.” I leaned into the door, resting my head on my hand that held it open and channeling my inner Rachel Green from Friends.

Landon’s dark, styled hair, dark brows, and short-trimmed beard framed his copper brown eyes a little too well—eyes that didn’t even take notice of my flirty stance. “Nikki insisted I set up some Christmas decorations to liven the place up. But if this is a bad time, I can come back later.”

I blinked, rewinding my mind to register what he had said. Nikki. Decorations. Now or later? “Now’s as good a time as any.” Thank goodness I’d had the foresight to spiffy up the place a little. It wasn’t clean by any stretch of the imagination, but it was presentable now—mostly.

“I’ll get a tree on Monday, but I figured I’d bring up a few of the decorations I had in storage.” He lifted the box, as if to indicate that was what was inside. “If you need to check the contents for your safety ...”

“That would be great. If you could just set it here.” I pointed to the ground, hoping to pull that reluctant smile from him that I’d briefly glimpsed last night. “Strands of Christmas lights and glass ornaments can be deadly in the wrong hands.”

Instead of the smile I’d hoped for, his brows lifted.