Page 27 of A Newport Christmess

“What time is it?” She looked around like she was trying to find a clock.

“Almost seven-thirty,” I said, like there was no discrepancy between the early hour and my provided excuse.

“Oh.” Her countenance fell, making me want to kick myself for not having come up with a better exit strategy. The last thing I wanted to do was leave more damage in my wake. But what was I supposed to say now? Sorry for my abrupt behavior, but I’m strangely drawn to you, and I’m not comfortable with it?

Quinn grabbed my plate from the table and set it atop hers. Then she stood and moved to the kitchen. “I’m sorry I kept you up so late with my endless chatter. I’ll lock the door when you leave.” Her tone was light, friendly almost, but it wasn’t her genuine one.

I paused by the kitchen on my way out. “Thanks again for dinner,” I said stupidly.

Quinn didn’t look at me. “No problem. Night.”

And just like that, I’d sabotaged our short-lived friendship.

EIGHT

QUINN

I turned up the Christmas music—ironically, “O Christmas Tree”—hoping to drown out my unhelpful overthinking. I hadn’t seen Landon since his abrupt departure Monday evening, and now, two days later, I was still thinking about it. Perhaps I’d opened up too quickly or talked too much, but until he’d stood up and declared it was getting late, he’d seemed to be enjoying himself. Hadn’t he? Or had I just thought he was and missed all the signals? That was more likely. Until Cody had left, I hadn’t realized how unhappy he was in our marriage, how desperate he was to escape.

“Ouch!” My hand flew back when my skin made contact with the hot sugar mixture from the large gingerbread piece I held in place. “Concentrate,” I hissed to myself. Several raw, red spots now dotted my fingers from where I’d accidentally touched the scalding liquid. This was exactly why I needed to stop thinking about Landon. It wasn’t safe—for my fingers or for my well-being.

My phone chimed, and for once, it was sitting next to me.

Nikki: Hey! Are you free tonight? Kade and I would love to take you around Newport!

I closed my eyes, releasing a silent groan. I wanted to hang out with Nikki, but the idea of being chauffeured around in the freezing cold by a smitten couple made it far less appealing.

Quinn: Sounds lovely! What time were you thinking?

Nikki: Pick you up at four!

Nikki: If that works for you, of course.

Nikki: And come hungry.

Quinn: Perfect. See you then!

That meant I had three hours to finish the last gingerbread structure. The other three were done and waiting to be decorated, but Rosecliff was rightfully proving difficult. Perhaps I’d been a little too ambitious with the details, but I knew that if I could make it work, it would be worth it. I only hoped I was right.

A heavy knock broke through the blaring music, and I froze. That wasn’t Landon’s knock, and Nikki would have mentioned if she were here. I quickly muted the music and tuned my ears to any noises. Retreating footsteps sounded in the shared stairwell, but it wasn’t until the distant sound of a car started that I found the courage to tiptoe to the door. There was no sign of anyone through the peephole. I pressed my ear to the door and listened again. Nothing.

With quiet movements, I unlocked the top lock and opened the door just wide enough for me to see out and, apparently, to let a rush of cold air in. No one was there. The instantaneous onslaught of thoughts about who had knocked and why sent a chill up my spine. Then, something caught my eye. Pressed up against the door were several bags of groceries.

But I hadn’t ordered anything.

I thought to leave them there, in case the delivery person realized their mistake, when I caught sight of the bag of tortilla chips peeking out from one of the sacks—the same brand I’d served Landon. Had Landon had the groceries delivered? Quickly, I pulled the bags into the house and locked the door. My gaze roved over the haul, and sure enough, I noticed a sticker on a bag—L. Aker. Was this some kind of peace offering? Or was it simply Landon feeling bad for the odd girl who would rather eat canned chicken than leave the house?

Either way, I was grateful—especially with the smell of fresh pineapple and oranges wafting around me.

* * *

An uncontrollable shiver overtook me when I stepped out of Nikki’s car. The heated leather seats had been divine, but the contrast now gave the air more of a bite. Or maybe it was the breeze off the bay that caused it. Either way, I pulled my coat more tightly around me and wished I had opted for more layers.

“I hope Kade can find a spot.” Nikki glanced around the parking lot, where cars circled like vultures in eager search for a space, their tires leaving marks in the thin layer of snow.

“Looking for me?” Kade’s voice came from the sidewalk behind us.

We turned toward the sound, and my stomach instantly wound into a ball of nerves when I noticed Landon standing beside him. Hadn’t Nikki very intentionally not invited her brother?