Page 29 of A Newport Christmess

Nikki returned to my side, put her hand on my back, and leaned her torso forward and slightly toward me. “Ready.”

Kade held up the phone and snapped several pictures, squatted down for a different angle, moved closer for a few shots, and then handed her the phone. “Acceptable, or should I take a few more?”

She scrolled through the images, her eyes taking in each picture with focused attention. Then, she smiled. “Got it.” She held the phone toward me. “You look stunning, Quinn.”

I studied the picture, surprised that she was right. It was a great picture of both of us, but more than that, I appeared confident and happy and a complete contrast to the hundreds, possibly thousands, of selfies I’d taken and promptly deleted over the last year. I looked like my old self, just in a more flattering pose. “You look stunning, too,” I said, eager to draw the attention away from myself. “You always do.”

“Thank you,” she said without a hint of reservation. “Are you okay if I post this to my stories, then?” Her gaze shifted to Landon, and she gave an impish smile before she looked back to me. “I’ll tag your account.”

“Sure,” I said more casually than I felt. Nikki Aker—social media goddess—was going to post that glorious picture to her stories. No big deal. I could keep it cool.

Her fingers moved over the screen’s keypad at lightning speed. “Done.” Nikki tucked her phone in her back pocket.

“What’s the plan for dinner?” Kade asked, stepping next to us. “Are we grabbing something here?”

“Oh, shoot!” Nikki stopped and glanced behind us. “I left my bag in the trunk.”

Kade quirked his head. “And it has our dinner in it?”

“Yeah. Want to help me grab it?”

“You know I do.”

“We’ll be back in just a minute.”

Kade waggled his eyebrows at us. “Unless we get distracted on the way.”

Nikki laughed and latched onto Kade’s arm. The two of them started back in the direction we’d come, looking the very picture of two people in love. Feeling awkward being left alone with Landon, I watched them until they disappeared around the corner.

“How have you been?” Landon asked, his tone polite but not overly friendly.

My gaze met his. “Good.” I rubbed my frozen fingers together, repressing another shiver by tensing my body. “And how about you?”

“Fine. Thanks.”

“That’s good.”

The awkward silence hung thickly around us in the cold evening air. Our conversation the other night had felt so natural. What went wrong? “Did you get enough sleep … the night you left?” The question slipped out of me before I had time to filter it.

His jaw ticked. “I did.”

“That’s great. Sleep is important.” I cringed inwardly. Sleep is important? Who says that? I mean, besides a doctor when you go in for a checkup, but in a regular conversation? No wonder Landon was intent on keeping his distance. Something was very much wrong with me. “Oh, and thanks for the groceries,” I said, desperate to change the subject. “That was really kind of you.”

“No problem.”

No problem? That was all he had to say?

Fine.

Two could play at this game—as stupid of a game as it was. I blew out a breath, the white cloud of air dissipating as quickly as it had come, crossed my arms, and angled myself away from him. I could feel Landon’s gaze settle on me, but I didn’t give him the privilege of meeting it.

“What are you doing?” he asked, confusion in his voice. Or was that amusement?

I tapped my foot, growing all too aware of how numb my toes were. “Nothing.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m getting the silent treatment?”

“Because you are.”