Chapter 6

Chapter Six

“Is that guy still sitting there?” Lindsay peeked around the high-top and through the glass counter.

Jen wiped down the espresso machine. “Yup. And he’s had like four cappuccinos. Apparently, he’s not planning on sleeping tonight.”

She glanced at Jason furtively. His gaze was still locked on his laptop. Maybe he was a writer? They got a lot of them at the café. Bunny didn’t mind as long as they continued to pay for food and drinks. The ones who bought one coffee and used the Wi-Fi all day—those were the ones they all grumbled at.

But he seemed too wealthy to be a writer. Unless he was famous. He’d rented out the most expensive cabin and drove a fancy car. Even his clothes seemed expensive. Not that Jen would know about brands. She shopped at the consignment shop, and Colby got most of his clothes as hand-me-downs from Warren’s kids.

Lindsay bit her lip. “He’s not bad to look at.” Her own eyes twinkled. “Maybe you should go over there and talk to him again. I swear I saw him peeking at you.”

Jen untied the apron from her neck. Her feet ached, and her head throbbed. All she wanted to do was go home and soak in a bubble bath. Fortunately, her mom had volunteered to keep Colby overnight, which was especially generous, considering she was watching Colby tomorrow for her date with Brad.

“He’s passing through town. And I think things are heading in a good direction with Brad. Want to come over and watch a movie?” Jen asked Lindsay. “I unexpectedly have the night free.”

Lindsay shook her head. “My grandfather wants me to come over and check out the menu he has planned for the Christmas special.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s becoming such a diva.”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t outright forbidden you to come visit me in here. A Yardley at Bunny’s. Think of how bad it could be for business if people found out.” Jen grinned and looked back at Bunny, who was busy cleaning out the roaster.

“I heard that.” Bunny didn’t look at the two younger women. A bead of sweat gathered on her forehead, so she wiped it away and gave Lindsay a cross look. “And he’s not becoming a diva. He’s always been one. If that man’s head gets any bigger, they’ll be able to use him for a float at the parade on Main next year. And you can tell him I said that.”

Jen and Lindsay both burst out laughing. Bunny Wagner and Peter Yardley’s feud had been going on for as long as anyone could remember. But neither Jen nor Lindsay was na?ve enough to think there wasn’t anything to it. Bunny and Peter actually loathed each other.

Bunny’s resentment had only grown, though, when the Happy Home Channel had noticed Peter’s work with This Charmed Life magazine. They’d given Peter his own television show, which only brought him more tourism and traffic in town.

Wiping tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes, Lindsay straightened. “Speaking of which, did you hear about the baking competition my grandfather’s show is hosting as part of his televised Christmas special? At his new store?” She dug through her purse and pulled out a crumpled flyer, which she pushed into Jen’s hands. “You should totally sign up.”

The paper crinkled as Jen smoothed it out against the counter. The prize money swam in front of her eyes, her jaw dropping. “Twenty-five thousand dollars?”

Lindsay gave a giant, exaggerated nod. “See what I mean? It’s being sponsored by This Charmed Life and Happy Home Channel . The magazine got such a great response last year to the Christmas cookie thing Sam Doyle did, so they wanted to do a big Christmas thing in Brandywood this year, too. And with Grandpa’s show and his store, they thought it would be a good tie-in. But sign-ups are only through the weekend. The first round of the competition will be on Wednesday. Then they do the final the week after and they announce the winner at the special, after Christmas.”

As Jen got excited, a line from the flyer leaped up at her. Her heart fell and she met Lindsay’s eyes. “Why is it couples only?”

“To handicap me,” Bunny said in a flat voice, passing by them. She glared at the flyer. “At least, that’s practically what Peter told me. He didn’t want me to enter, so widows need not apply.”

“Sorry, Bunny.” Lindsay’s apologetic expression confirmed Bunny’s story.

“I guess that means I’m out, too.” Jen pushed the flyer away.

“Why don’t you get Brad to sign up with you? You can totally do it together.” Lindsay replaced the flyer in her purse.

Would Brad be willing? “I don’t think he bakes, though.” To be honest, he had talked about little outside of his work as an accountant. Which was probably the most boring job that Jen could think of, but hey, he wasn’t struggling to pay his bills.

“You’ll carry the team no matter who’s on it. Best damn baker I’ve ever trained,” Bunny muttered, passing by them. The door to the kitchen swung behind her as she went through it. The rare compliment was enough to warm Jen’s heart. Bunny didn’t give out praise about baking if it wasn’t earned.

“Do you think we count as a couple?” Jen leaned her hip against the counter. “We’ve only been on three dates. He only just kissed me last time.” And it had been a nice kiss. Little boring, like him, but nice. God, she really needed to have sex. This whole not having it was becoming too big a thing in her brain. Had things really been that good in the past? Maybe she was conflating the whole thing. Should she lower the threshold on what “commitment” meant?

“You totally count. Sign up. You can do it tomorrow when you go on your date. You’re going to the pub, right? There’s a sign-up sheet there. I think it’s fifty bucks to enter, though.”

Jen shot her a warning look. Bunny had to know Jen went to Yardley’s, like everyone else in this town. But she’d prefer not to deal with the consequences of Lindsay bringing it up. The sigh that she breathed felt defeated and empty. “That settles it. I don’t even have five bucks. I can’t enter.”

Lindsay pulled her checkbook out. “I’m writing you the check.” She reached for a pen from the cup beside the register.

“Not a chance.” Jen pulled the pen cup away. “There’s no way that I can ask any more of anyone. I can’t keep expecting my friends and family to bankroll me through life.”

Lindsay nodded toward the seating area. “Looks like your stalker is gone.”

Jen looked up, surprised. Why did she feel disappointed? The table Jason had occupied for hours was empty. He’d packed up and gone in a blink as though he’d been in a hurry. “You know who he reminds me of?” She grabbed the spray bottle and rag to go over and clean the table. “Kevin. There’s something about him. Today he said, ‘not everyone is worth knowing forever’ and followed it by ‘ope’—made me almost fall over. Kevin used to say both things.”

Lindsay stuck her lower lip out, biting it gently. “I think comparing cute guys to someone you used to be in love with is normal. Even if they’re like, you know, total opposites. It’s not like ‘ope’ is some super original phrase.”

That was true. And Kevin had been the first guy she ever believed she’d loved. They hadn’t been together that long, really, but he’d been fun and exciting. Different from the usual breed of guy she found here in Brandywood. Maybe that was it, actually. She had a thing for guys who weren’t from here. Trust Lindsay to put it into perspective. “I don’t know. I think it’s the eyes. And that he’s from Chicago.”

“Again. Chicago.” Lindsay over-enunciated the word. “Not like Paduka or Massapequa. Plus, he’s unbelievably hot, so I could see you overanalyzing all of this because of that, too.” She grinned. “But since he’s a stalker—”

“And I know nothing about him.”

Lindsay smirked. “In that case, why don’t you tell me how that kiss with Brad went?”

Jen surveyed the café. Thankfully, it wasn’t crowded, and her shift ended in a few minutes. She reached under the counter for the envelope where she stashed her tips. Bunny was known for paying more than the usual meager restaurant wages, and she didn’t make them tip out since, usually, it was only one or two people working the front. But tonight had been unusually slow. Not much there. Not meeting Lindsay’s eyes, she shrugged. “It was fine.”

“Not a great kisser?”

Jen cringed. “I mean, I don’t know.” She made her way to the tablet on the wall, where they logged in and out of work and entered her code. “He’s nice. But I miss the excitement I used to feel—like if I wanted to stay up all night talking about nothing and everything with a guy, I could. Or take off for the weekend. Now I’m just a mom with a babysitter, checking the phone to make sure I haven’t missed a call. And frumpy. I feel so freaking frumpy. On the last date I went on with Brad, Colby smeared peanut butter on my sweater right before I left him at my parents’ house. I washed it off, but I felt so gross. And you know how much I love Colby.” She met Lindsay’s gaze, thankful that their friendship allowed her to complain about things like this almost guilt-free. Lindsay wouldn’t judge her or think she was selfish or think Jen didn’t love her son enough.

Lindsay studied her. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel feminine. And sexy. Maybe you do need a little more mysterious hotties from out of town right now than sturdy potential husbands. You deserve to have fun, Jen.”

Jen rolled her eyes. “A stalker’s hotness has its limits, you know.”

“But apparently, talking about him is enough to distract you.” Lindsay waved a folded check between two fingers. She gave a sneaky grin and hurried toward Jen’s coat over on the coatrack. The money for the contest.

“Lindsay!” Jen stamped her foot as her friend stuffed the check in her pocket.

Lindsay blew her a kiss and pulled her own coat down. “Pay me out of your winnings.”

“Hold up. Let me clean off this table, and I’ll walk out with you to the parking lot.” Jen moved to the table Jason had been occupying. She’d already cleared most of it earlier, and only the last coffee cup remained. She lifted the mug, and a neatly folded bill showed under it. He’d paid for his food at the counter, so he clearly meant this as a tip.

He’d tipped her one-hundred bucks.

Her fingers hesitated over the bill. She’d only ever received such a large tip on a couple of occasions. Did he still feel sorry for her after the drive-through incident?

But she’d been such a jerk to him.

She could use the money to enter the baking competition. Not have to owe anyone, including Lindsay, anything else. Jen pocketed the tip and cleaned the table. As she put the supplies away, Bunny came back out of the kitchen. “Travis is covering for me tomorrow, don’t forget. You may need to get here a little early in the morning to show him the lay of the land.”

“Sounds good. Have fun at the casino. I already clocked out.” Bunny’s grandson, Travis Wagner, was one of her closest friends on the planet. Much as Jen loved Bunny, Jen also relished the times when Travis oversaw the café.

“Don’t forget the boxes,” Bunny called as Jen grabbed her purse.

Jen went over to the counter and grabbed two heavy cardboard boxes loaded with food from the counter. Lindsay came up beside her. “For Pete’s sake. Let me carry one of those.”

The two women headed for the door of the café. Just as they got there, Jen almost ran straight into Jason, who appeared distressed.

He appeared to be in the middle of a phone call but pulled the phone away from his face and hung up when he saw her. “You okay?” she asked, frowning over the top of the box. Whatever strange magnetic pull she had toward him, right now, he was in her way, and her arms hurt from the weight of the box.

“Yeah. My car’s been towed.” Jason looked back and forth between the two women. “Can I carry those for you?”

“Sure.” Lindsay plopped the one in her arms into Jason’s. She pressed a kiss to Jen’s cheek, a twinkling gleam in her eye. “Call me later, okay?”

As Lindsay walked away, Jen’s heart sank. Lindsay probably thought she was doing Jen a favor by giving her a moment with a handsome man. She hadn’t told Lindsay the full extent of her interactions with Jason.

Jason took the box she carried, and Jen shook out her arms. “Where were you parked?” She scanned the street. The twinkle lights from the Christmas decorations sparkled in the windows of the shops on Main, but the sidewalks were crowded tonight, especially heading up toward Yardley’s.

Trust there to be some Christmas event going on. Fridays brought that sort of excitement for most people, after all.

“Right here.” Jason pointed at the empty spot in front of Bunny’s. “I forgot to feed the meter. You all tow quick in this town.”

“Actually, that’s a tow zone after four o’clock.” Jen nodded toward a sign on a lamppost. “But if you want, I can give you a ride back to the cabins.”

“You’d do that for the schmuck who made you come turn on the hot water at two in the morning?” Jason’s eyes glinted with humor.

He had been a schmuck. She shrugged. “No. But I would do it for the guy who came to my rescue in the drive-through. Even if you took my milkshake.”

He grimaced. “I do feel a little guilty about that. And for being an asshole. I’ll have to make it up to you.”

“It’s fine. I could have been more gracious. Besides, you tipped me too much today. Which means I’m in your debt again. If I help you, I’ll be out of your debt. Maybe then whatever cosmic force that keeps throwing us in each other’s path today can be satisfied, and we can return to our merry lives.”

Jason fell into step beside her. “How do you know it’s merry?”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “Your life?” Her breath fogged the air in front of her. “I don’t. But you don’t look miserable.”

He didn’t respond, shifting his attention to the boxes he carried. “What’s in here? It smells good, whatever it is.”

“Yesterday’s leftovers. I’m taking them to one of the local nursing homes.”

“Don’t nursing homes charge exorbitant fees to the elderly, thus paying for the food they give them?”

A harsh view, especially for a guy who appeared wealthy. But not completely incorrect. “It’s not that type of nursing home.” As they continued down Main Street, the sidewalks grew more crowded. People were sitting in folding chairs on both sides of the streets, cones closing a section of the street.

Jason exchanged a look with her. “Is there something going on down here tonight?”

Jen scanned the crowd. She didn’t remember the schedule of events for December this year, but once December started, it was nonstop Christmas-themed events. “Looks like it. Here, follow me. I’ll try to navigate us down the sidewalk through all these people.”

“Excuse me,” she said, attempting to part the sea of people on the sidewalk. Moving through the stopped crowd was nearly impossible, especially with Jason carrying two large boxes. People were clapping and singing. They didn’t hear her.

Having had enough with the crowd on the sidewalk, she skirted around it. Finding a break in the folding chairs, she pushed onto the street and started to cross it. Jason followed her.

It took about thirty seconds for Jen to realize she’d stepped onto the set of a street play. She froze. Couples were dancing on the street, wearing vintage costumes. One actor wore a nightgown and an old-fashioned nightcap, looking disheveled as he stood in the center of the street, watching the merriment beside another actor.

Of course. The street production of A Christmas Carol. Her parents had always brought her when she was younger. It was one of her favorite Christmas traditions in town as a girl.

And right now, she was standing in the middle of the scene.

Another actor traveled between the couples, carrying a large bough of mistletoe. He held it over each of their heads, and they each stopped, on cue, to kiss for the clapping crowd.

The actor neared where she and Jason stood. With a twirl, he held the bough over them.

Jen’s eyes widened. It wasn’t unusual for the street actors to pull people from the crowd into various scenes, and people usually participated enthusiastically when selected. Jason had a bewildered look beside her. “What’s going on?” he asked in a low voice.

The actor continued to hold the bough over their heads with a wide smile on his face.

Jen turned toward him, her cheeks flaming. “It’s a play.” She kissed his cheek, quickly.

The crowd booed, and the actor held out his hand at their response, encouraging the boos. Now the rest of the actors surrounded them, dancing in a circle around them as the crowd chanted, “Kiss! Kiss!”

This might be her worst nightmare.

Jason seemed to have caught on to what was happening. His sharp gaze pierced hers. “Fezziwig’s ball?”

“Yeah, andwe’re a part of it.” She eyed the manhole cover a few feet away, trying to figure out if it was possible for her to move it and jump inside.

“All right.” The unreadable mask on Jason’s face melted into an easy, practiced smile. As though he had years of practice performing. “This ends faster if I just kiss you, right?”

She nodded. He was going to kiss her?

Then again, this guy brought random women back to his room. A kiss probably wasn’t that big of a deal to him.

He set the boxes on the street, and the crowd cheered, the chant growing louder. She didn’t want to look out at the sidewalk. People she knew were out there. Oh my God.

Jason pulled her closer, slipping his hands on her waist. He searched her eyes. “Is this okay?”

Was it? That he’d asked for her consent surprised her. Most guys sort of just did that head-tilt-and-lean-in.

This. Was. Mortifying. “Yeah. Let’s get it over with.”

He hesitated, his eyes focusing on her lips. Then he pulled her closer, dropping a soft kiss on her mouth. His lips were soft, warm, and surprisingly gentle. She closed her eyes automatically—or squeezed them shut.

And her heart gave a giant lurch. Goose bumps rose on her arms, and her spine tingled.

When she realized the crowd was cheering and she was frozen in place, she drew a sharp breath, relaxing into his arms. Her mouth softened to his, and she kissed him back, her pulse pounding.

Jason pulled away after a few seconds. Or maybe a minute. She had no idea. The whole thing felt as though she’d passed out. An odd expression was in his eyes, and the dancers had moved on, satisfied with their performance.

“Um . . .” she stammered, then pressed her lips together. They continued to tingle.

What in the hell had just happened?

Jason leaned down and grabbed the boxes. “We might want to get moving before the ghost of the Christmas past drags us away.”

Nodding, she willed her feet into action. She hurried across the street toward the parking lot where most of the store employees from Main Street parked. “No wonder your car got towed,” she finally managed. There wasn’t any street parking left in town. “They probably thought you were trying to get around the rules.”

Jason didn’t respond right away. “They do this sort of thing a lot?”

She looked back at him as she reached her car, her face still burning. It was a good kiss.

She had to stop thinking about it. “Yeah, you know. Christmas. Thanksgiving. Pretty much any holiday is an excuse for a small town to celebrate.” Jen popped the trunk. “You can put those boxes down in there.”

“Sounds like an exciting place to grow up.” Jason put the boxes into the back of her car and straightened. He closed the trunk.

Yeah. Great place. Until you become the one everyone was whispering about. She unlocked the passenger side. “If you don’t mind, we can drop them off at the nursing home before I take you to the cabins. They’re on the way.” She climbed into the driver’s seat, and he got in beside her.

She glanced back into the back seat, hoping he wouldn’t judge the state of her car. Not that she’d ever been the neatest car owner, but life with a toddler had made it ten times worse. She was certain the Goldfish and Cheerios would be stuck between her seats forever. And Colby had a habit of putting his muddy shoes on the back of the passenger seat.

He shut the door. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Buckling his seat belt, he asked, “So you take donations to the nursing home?”

“My church runs it.” She started the engine. “It’s for the elderly poor—people who can’t afford housing and would be homeless. They run entirely off donations.”

He set his laptop bag on his lap. “So you’re a do-gooder, huh?”

She pulled out of her spot. “I wouldn’t say that.” She threw him a smile. “I just deliver the food.” If there was anything she hated, it was false humility. She didn’t really even like talking about the charity work she did. Kevin had always told her it was his favorite thing about her. When he’d left, she’d nearly quit it all, too angry with life and him to continue. Now she mostly did it out of habit.

Why did this guy keep bringing thoughts of Kevin to mind? Almost four years and she’d struggled to forget him. Kept hoping one day, he’d turn up again. Take a damn interest in his son.

A damn interest in her.

She pushed the thought away, flipping the windshield wipers on to clear some of the fog from her windows. “I take it you’re not a do-gooder.”

Jason winced. “Ouch. What makes you think that?”

“To begin with, because the term do-gooder is a pejorative.” She came to a stoplight, which cast a red glow onto Jason’s face. With his dark hair and light eyes and complexion, he looked a bit like a devil. A charmingly handsome devil.

He didn’t meet her gaze. “I give plenty of money to charity.”

“Because it’s a good tax write-off?” She knew his type.

This time, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t think we know each other well enough to discuss my taxes, but thanks.”

She gritted her teeth. Their conversation had quickly gone south—and she’d felt strangely jovial after he’d kissed her. Why did she have this inexplicable reaction to him? She wasn’t normally like this. Especially not with strangers. She replayed her words. She must have sounded so judgmental. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, releasing a sigh. “I’m not exactly having the best last few days. My son . . . he’s been getting into trouble in preschool, and they kicked him out.”

Jason glanced back at the empty car seat. “What is he chain-smoking and cutting class?” He laughed. “Didn’t you say he’s three?”

The laughter thawed the tension between them. The mental image of Colby doing those things made her grin. “No.” She shook her head. “He’s pinching other kids.”

“Wow, they set that bar real low these days, don’t they?” Jason shifted in his seat and stretched his long legs out. He sobered somewhat. “I don’t know much about kids or preschools, but I’m sure that can’t be easy.”

“It sucks.” She pulled into a space in front of the nursing home. “But it’s fine.” She swallowed, her throat feeling tight. “Truthfully, I can’t really afford the school, anyway. Childcare is crazy expensive. But my friend Lindsay was his teacher, so at least I knew he was with someone I trusted.” Why was she pouring her heart out to him now? “Sorry. More than you asked for. I talk too much. I’ll be right back.” She turned the car off and opened the door.

Jason got out, setting his hands on the top of the car. He looked across it toward her. “Why don’t you let me carry those in for you?”

“Okay.” She tried to regain her composure, feeling rattled. Not that this was anywhere close to a date, but she hadn’t spent much time one-on-one with a man she considered especially sexy for a while. And Jason intrigued her.

Jason helped her get the boxes out of the trunk. “So what’s your story?” She studied his face. “What brings you all the way from Chicago to Brandywood?”

“Some family business.” He gave her a polite smile. “And I heard about some fantastic cabins in the mountains I had to visit.”

She grinned. If he was wealthy, Redding Cabins were probably unimpressive to him. “They are world-famous. We specialize in the cold shower for men clearly not in need of one.” She regretted the comment immediately, her palms breaking out in a sweat. She had to stop commenting on his sex life.

His azure-blue gaze showed a mixture of amusement and shock. “That’s the last time I’m making a service call when I know you’re at the desk.”

“Good. I’m there Sunday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights. I’ll be able to get much better beauty rest if I know I can turn the front desk phone off.” They reached the brightly lit front entrance to the nursing home, and she held the glass front door for him.

“Fortunately for you, I’m only here for a week or two. And if I can wrap up my family business before then, I’ll be gone even sooner.” He gave her a jaunty smile.

Just passing through then. No one interesting ever stayed.

“Hi, Victor,” Jen greeted the security guard at the front desk. She tilted her head toward Jason. “He’s with me. Just dropping food off in the kitchen.”

The security guard gave her a nod. “Always good to see you, Miss Jen. Go on back.”

Jason followed a few steps behind her as she went through the familiar maze of hallways. As she turned a corner, she nearly ran into Bertie Hillsbury on her walker. Bertie gave her a hug, her bony arms tight around her neck. She smelled like rose-scented lotion. “Jen! Oh, I missed you, honey! When you bringing that baby in to see us again?”

“As soon as I have a chance. He’s been busy drawing Christmas cards for you and all the ladies.”

Bertie sized up Jason. “Well, looky here. You brought me a new boyfriend, did you?” She gave Jason a big wink. “Just my type.” She posed, showing off her nightgown. “I’m ready for our date, sweetheart. Where you taking me tonight?”

“Flying you to Paris,” Jason said smoothly, without missing a beat. “Plane’s out back.”

“Ohhhh.” Bertie squeezed his forearm. “Oh . . . nice, strong muscles. I like this one, Jen.” Her guffaw seemed to bounce off the floral wallpaper as she continued down the hall, the walker squeaking with each step.

Jen continued forward. Something about watching Jason with Bertie was oddly endearing. And he probably had the money to fly a date to Paris. If he made her that offer... stop it, Jen.

She shouldn’t be thinking about this random stranger this way. Her pace increased. Jason caught up with her. “Don’t leave me behind in this place.” He glanced over his shoulder at the direction Bertie had gone. “I have a feeling I’ll fill my date book for the year a bit too quickly.”

She gave him a wary glance. “When you go making promises of Paris, no wonder.” They reached the kitchen, and she flipped the light on. Two large commercial refrigerators hummed on the other side. “Put the boxes right in here.” She held the door open to one of them.

Jason offloaded them and wiped his hands on his jeans. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” She closed the fridge door. “I usually let the director know I’ve dropped the food off. But that should only take another minute.” She leaned her hip into the fridge. “See? Just the delivery girl. I don’t buy the food. Bunny does. I can barely take credit for most of this.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not a do-gooder.” Jason glanced around the kitchen. She followed his gaze. The area was clean but cold and metallic. The kitchen here always made her a little sad. It was functional, of course, but held none of the warmth of a home. Instead, it served only as a place to prepare food.

“I always wonder about the kitchens these people left behind,” Jen mused. She gathered her hair back into a ponytail. “Seems heartbreaking to never think about making another family dinner again, doesn’t it?”

An odd expression crossed his face. Then he answered, “Yeah, sure does.” Not a trace of conviction sounded in his voice.

They went back in the direction they’d come, silence between them. She didn’t know much about him—or how he felt about family—and how he’d reacted made her think he might not be too close to his family. She should have been more sensitive. As they climbed back into the car, the awkwardness grew. She gave him a tense smile and drove. “Hey, so, back in the town with the A Christmas Carol and all—”

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve found myself in the middle of a play being asked to kiss a pretty girl. Pretty much my normal Friday night.”

She didn’t really want to know what his normal Friday night was like. She looked over at him, and a snort of laughter choked out of her throat. He grinned at her. “Yeah, well, mine usually involves waking up on the couch and finding myself watching some sort of cartoon two hours after my son has fallen asleep.”

“Those Smurfs are basically like sleep therapy.”

He clearly knew nothing about modern cartoons, but she didn’t blame him.

She pulled up in front of his cabin. Would he linger in the car? She wasn’t ready to say good night yet for some strange reason. “I’m pretty sure Laura has a list of the Christmas events at the front desk. I can grab you one if you want.” Stupid, Jen. A single, hot guy like him won’t be interested in Christmas festivals and tree lightings.

An easy smile tipped at his lips, the hint of a dimple on his left cheek. God, stop staring at him. “Are you going to be there?” he asked, reaching for the handle.

She shook her head with a rueful shrug. “I don’t have a ton of spare time right now.”

“Then I’ll probably pass.” He checked his phone and frowned at it. Snapping his head up, he met her gaze. “Thanks for the ride.”

He gently closed the car door, silhouetted against the porch light as he walked toward it. The implication that maybe he’d have gone to those Christmas events if she was there wasn’t lost on her, but he’d seemed to realize he’d put his foot in his mouth and hightailed it out of the car.

Maybe whatever attraction she had toward him wasn’t completely one-sided.

Or maybe it was wishful thinking. She’d spent enough time self-pitying her lack of desirability the last few days. And Lindsay was right: she longed to feel desired again.

Jen let out a slow breath and chewed on her lower lip, watching him for a few seconds before she threw the car into reverse. Whomever Jason was, she was thankful he was passing through. He'd seemed cold and indifferent— judgmental— when she met him. But back in the nursing home, she’d sensed kindness and a decent sense of humor. And he could certainly kiss. No, it was good he wasn’t staying in Brandywood. Jen knew her kryptonite.