BooksBarbecue
Back Baggage Claim
Chapters (48)
  1. 1. One
  2. 2. Two
  3. 3. Three
  4. 4. Four
  5. 5. Five
  6. 6. Six
  7. 7. Seven
  8. 8. Eight
  9. 9. Nine
  10. 10. Ten
  11. 11. Eleven
  12. 12. Twelve
  13. 13. Thirteen
  14. 14. Fourteen
  15. 15. Fifteen
  16. 16. Sixteen
  17. 17. Seventeen
  18. 18. Eighteen
  19. 19. Nineteen
  20. 20. Twenty
  21. 21. Twenty-One
  22. 22. Twenty-Two
  23. 23. Twenty-Three
  24. 24. Twenty-Four
  25. 25. Twenty-Five
  26. 26. Twenty-Six
  27. 27. Twenty-Seven
  28. 28. Twenty-Eight
  29. 29. Twenty-Nine
  30. 30. Thirty
  31. 31. Thirty-One
  32. 32. Thirty-Two
  33. 33. Thirty-three
  34. 34. Thirty-Four
  35. 35. Thirty-Five
  36. 36. Thirty-Six
  37. 37. Thirty-Seven
  38. 38. Thirty-Eight
  39. 39. Thirty-Nine
  40. 40. Forty
  41. 41. Forty-One
  42. 42. Forty-Two
  43. 43. Forty-three
  44. 44. Epilogue
  45. Afterword
  46. Also by
  47. Acknowledgments
  48. About Author

“I should probably go. I have to get up super early.”

“Oh, right.” She seemed disappointed, and that tiny “oh” had me wanting to call in sick the next day, but I knew in the long run it wasn’t a good idea.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Grinchy. I have plans for day two.” I smiled when her eyes widened.

“I’m afraid of what those plans are,” she said.

I grinned wider and said, “I’m really good at surprises.”

I popped my head in the kitchen to say bye to the rest of her family, all of whom had mouths stuffed full of pie and whipped cream. They tried to say goodbye, but it came out as, “BUUEE FENN!” But I’d take it.

I came back through the living room to say goodbye to Olive. She had the sleeves of her sweater pulled down past her hands, and she tugged on the hem anxiously. I felt a deep need to put her in my lap and wrap her in a warm blanket, but I shoved that urge down with all my other inappropriate thoughts.

“’Night, Little Grinch.” I approached her slowly, hesitating briefly before kissing her forehead softly. She let out a tiny squeak, a clipped, “goodnight,” and pushed me to the door. I laughed at her rush to get me out.

Maybe she wasn’t as unaffected by me as I thought.

16. Sixteen

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When I eased into the kitchen, every eye in the room turned my way. I walked past the table and barstools, ignoring the wall of eyes as I cut my own piece of pie, careful to take only a paper-thin slice. I placed the sliver on one of the plates Mom had left out and turned around, hoping they would no longer be looking my way. Unfortunately, I was not so lucky.

The creepy smiles on Mom and Taylor’s faces told me they would be asking inappropriate questions later. Dad and Matt both leaned back in their chairs with their arms crossed, which was normal. Sarah and Logan looked at each other, then me, then back to each other as though speaking some language no one but them understood.

“What?” I asked no one in particular.

Taylor answered for the room. “It’s just nice to see you happy with someone.”

That was laughable for two reasons.

1. I was not with anybody.

2. I was the furthest thing from happy.

Tonight was a fluke. A slip-up. A random coincidence. Had I been happier tree shopping with Finn by my side than I would’ve been alone? Sure. That didn’t mean anything though. I probably would’ve had as much fun with a beaver.

I filled my mouth with pie to avoid replying.

“And he’s so sweet,” Mom said.

“And handsome,” Taylor added.

“And strong.“

“I know, did you see how he lifted that tree up—“