“Lana will get it right.”

“Einstein couldn’t get it right.” Graham winked at Zoey.

“Lana’s much smarter than you, and even if she did get it wrong, I wouldn’t say anything. Unlike you, who has deliberately screwed up my coffee every day this week because you think it’s funny.”

“You get the cutest little scrunchy face when it’s too sweet—”

“Graham.”

“Or not sweet enough.”

“Graham.”

“Or if there’s regular dairy instead of nondairy creamer—”

Lana left them to their conversation, having been exposed to their antics enough to know how this would progress. Graham’s particular brand of affection was exactly what Zoey needed in her life. And if Graham following her around like a lovesick puppy was any indicator, she was exactly what he needed too.

Lana didn’t know what she needed, but some eggnog would be a pleasant start.

A table had been set up along the wall, complete with coffee urn and cookies, the little hard ones from a Christmas-themed tin. So far, no one was eating the cookies, preferring a large Tupperware container full of homemade party mix. Sadly, there was no eggnog and not enough hands, so Lana fixed coffees for three instead. Taking a small portion of party mix and two cookies out of politeness instead of any real desire to consume either, Lana turned and bumped cookie plate to cookie plate into the man behind her.

“Oops, sorry. Oh. Hello, Rick.” Lana glanced up at the only person in town who made her heart skip an extra beat.

“Hey.” The quiet, rumbled word was nice, especially from a man more known for nodding than talking.

Hazel eyes a shade greener than she remembered gazed down at her over his own coffee. Normally clean-shaven, Rick Harding must have slept in late that morning, because the light stubble on his face was as unusual for the pool hall owner as it was attractive.

There had been a time when Lana had considered Rick somewhat average. Average height, somewhat larger-than-average muscular build, with a strong jaw on a pleasantly attractive face.

Then he’d come to her rescue the previous summer after some disgruntled and inebriated townsfolk had taken her to task for announcing the condominium project. Someone had caused her to deliberately fall, hurting her arm. After helping her off the ground, Rick had promptly punched the lights out of the man who tripped her.

There were many people in Lana’s life but very few heroes.

“It’s really good to see you again,” Lana told him sincerely.

“I didn’t realize you were back in town,” Rick said in his low, rich voice.

She’d never been able to decide if he was quiet or shy or maybe both. But the fact that he’d noticed she was gone somehow warmed her far more than the coffee cups she was balancing.

Considering how much Lana traveled for the family business, she wasn’t used to people missing her.

“I had to meet with my general contractor. We start construction on the condos soon.”

Rick nodded, glancing at the coffee in his hands.

Lana liked how his hands were strong and how his fingers—callused from work—wrapped around his coffee cup. She liked his broad shoulders and the way his jeans were worn from use, not styled to look that way. The flannel-lined hoodie he wore reminded her of the woods and being warm and Christmastime. Back when she was young enough to believe Christmas was reindeers and mistletoe and lists to Santa, not emotionally charged dinners with an extended family more interested in profit margins and expensive cocktails than truly enjoying one another’s company.

They hesitated, an awkward moment when Lana wasn’t sure what to say and Rick stood there saying nothing. Then of course they spoke at the exact same time.

“Are you—?”

“Do you—?”

A flush reddened his face beneath the scruffy beard. “Sorry. You first.”

He looked so cute, shifting on his feet.

“I was going to ask if you’re ready for Christmas. The presents, the tree, all that stuff.”

A soft snort was his answer. “It’s not really my holiday,” Rick said. “Are you staying around?”

He sounded almost hopeful. Lana wasn’t a blusher, but something about the way he was looking at her made her cheeks heat. “I was hoping to.”

A group of small children singing Christmas carols in their best Chipmunks impersonations came past, and Lana couldn’t help smiling at their cheerfulness. She looked up and saw Rick smiling too.

“Not your holiday?” she asked teasingly.

“I like seeing the kids enjoying themselves.” Rick shrugged, then he said, “I suppose this is all for them anyway.”

“No fun for the adults?”

Hmm. That hadn’t come out the way she meant it.

Rick ran a hand over the back of his neck, then he muttered under his breath, “Not this one.”

A loud clearing of a throat pulled their attention to the stage and the tired-looking officer standing on it. Jonah wasn’t the mayor—as far as Lana was aware, there was no mayor—and the members of the town council all collectively slouched in their seats, refusing to meet Jonah’s eye. Which left their poor overworked police officer to deal with running the meeting alone, like he dealt with protecting the town alone. Jonah was going to need some backup if her condominiums brought more residents permanently to Moose Springs.

Rick followed her line of sight as she frowned at the police officer.

“Not a fan of Jonah?” Rick asked. The man was perceptive.

“Actually, I like him a lot,” Lana said. “I’d like him even more if he weren’t stretched thin enough to see through. I’m hoping to talk the new mayor into giving him a little help.”

“We don’t have a mayor.” Rick’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“I suppose I could always run.”

She’d meant it as a joke, but the look of horror on his face almost managed to hurt her feelings. Then abruptly, he chuckled.

“You’d be good at it.” Those greener-than-normal hazel eyes crinkled with amusement. “Better than I was.”

A compliment from him felt like a warm brownie and a mug of hot tea in front of a fireplace. She basked shamelessly in the pleasure of it. Then suddenly, what Rick had said registered.

“Wait, you were mayor?” Too bad Rick wasn’t the mayor now. Lana could only imagine how much easier her life would be.

“Only for a month, a few years back. We all took a turn, and none of us wanted anything to do with it. This town is a pain in the ass.”

Lana couldn’t help her laugh.

“L, you can flirt later,” Graham called from their seats on the other side of the barn. “Rick, be careful, buddy—she’s a piranha in sheep’s clothing.”

“Pariah, dearest,” Lana replied.

She turned back to Rick and saw a deeper flush had reddened his face. Rick opened his mouth as if to continue the conversation like a normal human being, then promptly shut it again. He glanced down at his coffee cup, clearing his throat.

Lana knew she made him nervous, and while it wasn’t a first for her, she wished that Rick found her more approachable. It was nice having someone to talk to. Feeling as if perhaps she’d overstayed her welcome, Lana took an awkward step back. Rick’s gaze flickered upward, and he froze, going an odd sort of pale. Lana followed his eyes to the sprig of mistletoe above her head. “Oh dear. That makes things awkward, doesn’t it?”

The poor man looked like a deer caught in headlights, so Lana helped the situation by scooting sideways, out from under the mistletoe.

“Well, I better take my seat,” she said.

“Do you need help?” Rick started to ask as she turned, juggling her off-balance coffees, but his helping hands only jostled them more. “Oh, sorry.”

He cursed when the closest coffee spilled on the sleeve of her coat. The poor man was so unsettled that when he grabbed some napkins from the table, dabbing them at her arm, he managed to pour coffee all over his own hand in the process.

“Are you okay?” Lana tried to check his hand, but Rick seemed more worried about her jacket.

“Shit, I’ll pay for cleaning that,” he said, mumbling as he kept dabbing at her coat.

“It’s nothing, Rick. Please don’t worry.” She waved off his attempts to de-coffee her clothing. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Naw.” Rick gripped his handful of coffee-soaked napkins. “I have thick arms. Skin. Arm skin. Damn, I don’t even know what I’m saying. Are you sure I didn’t burn you?”

“I promise.”

A teenager made the same mistake as Lana, opening the wrong door to come inside, and the plastic elves once again made a clatteringly loud break for freedom. Lana looked over at the noise, wincing in sympathy. Then she turned back to Rick.

He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else at that moment. Since Rick had saved her once, Lana was happy to save him in return, even if it meant denying herself his company.

Still, she couldn’t help giving him a flirty wink. “I’ll see you later, Rick. Watch out for that mistletoe.”

Lana returned to her seat before she could see his response, unloading her treats into her friends’ arms. As she settled back in her chair, Lana caught Rick glancing her way from his own seat, and she offered him a wave of her fingers. He nodded with a shadow of a smile before turning his attention to his cookie plate.

Graham draped his arm over Zoey’s shoulders, kicking one booted foot up on the chair in front of him. Ash had joined them, stretching her long legs out in front of her, ankles crossed and boot tapping against the leg of another chair. If the man sitting in front of her minded, he was smart enough not to say anything. Easton at least tried to contain his broad shoulders and long limbs, but it was an effort. The man climbed mountains for a living, and he was as tall and strong as a boulder himself.

“Were you talking to Rick?” Zoey looked up from her phone. “He’s the sweetest guy. We invited him over on Christmas Eve. He always spends it alone.”