Books, brews and holiday blues

Sisters

I shook my head, snapping myself out of it. This was not the time to get distracted. I had a bookstore to save, and I couldn't let myself get caught up in whatever weird... thing was happening between me and Max Reynolds.

But as I made my way back to the bookstore, I couldn't help but wonder: Was it possible to fight for something you love... and still fall for the enemy?

That night, I sat by the fireplace in my apartment above the bookstore, wrapped in a cozy blanket, my mind still racing from the day's events. Emma had already texted me about five times, demanding details about my coffee "date" with Max, but I hadn't answered yet. I didn't even know what to tell her.

All I knew was that this Christmas was shaping up to be a lot more complicated—and a lot more interesting—than I'd expected.

The question was, would I be able to save the bookstore... and my heart?

The next morning, I woke up to a loud thud outside my window, followed by a series of muffled curses. For a second, I thought maybe Santa had crash-landed on the roof, but no. I peeked out through the curtains to find Mrs. Jenkins next door wrestling with a string of Christmas lights. Her husband, Herb, was standing below

her, holding a ladder that looked like it hadn't been touched since the '90s.

It was a scene I'd witnessed every year—Mrs. Jenkins waging war against outdoor decorations while Herb watched in useless awe. Tradition.

But this wasn't the morning for reminiscing about the holiday follies of my neighbors. No, today was all about avoiding Max Reynolds. After our snowball... incident... and the surprisingly civil coffee, I figured the universe owed me a break. I couldn't deal with his smug face again so soon.

I threw on some jeans and my favorite Christmas sweater —a hideous green one with reindeer that looked suspiciously like they were plotting something—and headed downstairs to open the shop.

Just as I flipped the sign to Open, my best friend Emma burst through the door, nearly knocking over a display of holiday mugs. She was wearing her usual "I'm a fashionista even at 8 a.m." look, with a huge grin plastered across her face.

"Spill. Now," she demanded. I sighed. "Spill what?"

"You know what! I saw you having coffee with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Corporate yesterday. Don't think you can get away with not giving me the deets."

I groaned. "Emma, it wasn't a date. I threw a snowball at him, and now he's threatening to destroy Christmas and possibly my will to live."

Emma gasped dramatically. "Oh no. Is that what he told you, or are you just projecting?"

"Projecting?" I scoffed. "He's here to bulldoze the entire town and turn it into a shopping mall. Not exactly 'Ho Ho Ho' material."

She shrugged. "Could be worse. He could be bulldozing your feelings instead."

I rolled my eyes. "Emma, please. He's a Christmas Grinch in a designer suit. I'm more likely to get hit by a falling icicle than fall for him."

At that exact moment, the door jingled and in walked Max. Of course.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked with an innocent smile, holding up two coffees from the café. His timing was way too good.

I opened my mouth, but Emma was quicker. "Oh, not at all!" she chirped, flashing her most dazzling grin. "In fact, we were just talking about you!"

I shot Emma a look that could melt the North Pole, but she just winked. This was not going to end well.

Max glanced between us, clearly amused. "Really? All good things, I hope."

"Of course," Emma said, not missing a beat. "Lily here was just telling me how handsome and charming you are."

I kicked her under the counter.

Max raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely not," I said quickly, turning to Emma. "And you should really go. Now."

Emma laughed, ignoring my death glare. "Oh no, I wouldn't want to get in the way. Enjoy your little chat!" She sashayed out the door, giving me a thumbs up as she went.

I was going to kill her.

Max set one of the coffees down on the counter in front of me. "I brought you this as a peace offering. To make up for the whole snowball situation."

I stared at him. "You think a coffee can make up for threatening to destroy my shop?"

He shrugged. "It's a start."

I reluctantly took the coffee, because honestly, caffeine was caffeine, and I wasn't about to turn down a free latte, even if it was from the enemy.

"So," he said, leaning casually against the counter. "I've been thinking about your idea from yesterday. You know, about working with the town instead of bulldozing it."

I blinked. "Really?"

Max nodded. "Yeah, I think there might be something to it. The team isn't thrilled about changing the project, but I've convinced them to at least look into keeping some of the local shops in the plan."

"Seriously?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "You actually did that?"

"Well, I am a man of my word," he said with a grin. "And I didn't want to get hit with another snowball."

I couldn't help but laugh, despite myself. "Okay, fine. You get one point for that."

"Just one?" Max asked, pretending to look offended. "Come on, I feel like I deserve at least two."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't push it."

As we stood there, the bell above the door jingled again, and in walked Herb Jenkins, holding what looked like a mangled string of Christmas lights.

"Lily, do you know where I can get one of those... whatchamacallits? The things that make the lights blink all fancy?" Herb asked, holding up the tragic tangle. "Martha insists we need 'em, or it's not 'festive enough.'"

I glanced at Max, who was trying not to laugh. "Uh, I think you're looking for a timer, Herb."

"That's it!" Herb said, beaming. "A timer. Where do I get one?"

Max, still struggling to keep a straight face, finally chimed in. "You can probably get one at the hardware store, two blocks over."

Herb looked Max up and down. "Aren't you the guy who's trying to tear down the hardware store?"

Max's smile faltered. "I, uh, wouldn't put it like that exactly—"

Herb waved him off. "Well, if you're here to steal Christmas, I suggest you leave the lights alone. That's Martha's job."

I bit my lip, trying not to burst out laughing as Max stood there, looking like he had no idea how to respond to that. Herb gave him a firm nod, then shuffled out the door, leaving Max staring after him in bewilderment.

"That was... interesting," Max muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Is it always like this around here?"

"Pretty much," I said, still grinning. "Small town life comes with its quirks."

Max shook his head, laughing. "I think I'm starting to get it."

Before I could respond, the door jingled again, and this time it was Mrs. Jenkins. She marched straight up to Max, hands on her hips.

"I heard you were trying to shut down my husband's favorite shop," she said, glaring up at him.

Max blinked, completely taken aback. "I—uh, no, I'm—"

"Don't think you can fool us with your fancy city ways," Mrs. Jenkins said, wagging a finger at him. "We see right through you."

I snorted, barely holding it together at this point. Max looked like he was about to start sweating.

"I—uh, I'm not trying to fool anyone," he stammered, glancing at me for help.

But I was enjoying this far too much to bail him out.

Mrs. Jenkins huffed and turned to me. "Lily, don't let him sweet-talk you. He's probably some kind of Christmas Scrooge."

"Oh, I know," I said, nodding solemnly. "But I think we can handle him."

Max sighed, looking between the two of us. "I can't tell if you're joking or not."

Mrs. Jenkins patted him on the arm. "You'll figure it out, dear. Just remember, this town doesn't need any of your fancy corporate nonsense."

And with that, she bustled out the door, leaving Max standing there, looking thoroughly flustered.

"I swear," he said, rubbing his temples. "You people are going to drive me insane."

"Welcome to Christmas in a small town," I said, smirking. "Think you can handle it?"

Max shook his head, but he was smiling again. "You're all a little crazy, but... yeah, I think I can handle it."

"Well then, good luck," I said, raising my coffee in mock salute. "Because this is just the beginning."

The next few days felt like a chaotic whirlwind of holiday preparations and unexpected encounters with Max. Every time I thought I'd managed to dodge him, he'd pop up like a holiday jack-in-the-box, grinning and charming, making it impossible to stay mad at him. And to make matters worse, I'd caught myself enjoying his company— like, way too much.

It was December 17th, and I was knee-deep in Christmas decorations, trying to make the bookstore look festive without going completely overboard. The goal was to have customers flocking in, not wondering if they'd accidentally walked into Santa's workshop.

Emma walked in just as I was attempting to untangle a particularly ambitious string of tinsel. "Lily, why do you look like you've been wrestling with a yeti?"

I shot her a glare. "Thanks, just what I needed. You try untangling tinsel that's clearly possessed."

"Possessed tinsel?" She raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure that's a thing. Although it would explain a lot about your Christmas spirit."

24

I threw a handful of tangled tinsel at her, and she ducked, laughing. "Seriously, though. If you're going to deck the halls, you might want to do it without looking like you've survived a battle in Narnia."

"Very funny," I retorted, finally managing to free a length of tinsel. "At least I'm not wearing that ridiculous Christmas sweater. I'm surprised it hasn't eaten you yet."

"Hey! This is a classic!" Emma protested, pulling at the sleeves of her bright red sweater featuring a cartoon Santa with googly eyes. "This guy? He's festive as hell. It's called fashion!"

I rolled my eyes. "More like a fashion disaster. But whatever floats your sleigh."

"Speaking of floating," Emma said, "I saw Max at the coffee shop yesterday, and he mentioned something about wanting to team up with you for the holiday fair."

I grimaced. "Please tell me you didn't volunteer me for some holiday collaboration with Mr. Corporate Christmas."

"Not yet, but I will," she teased. "Just imagine: you and Max, the dynamic duo, saving the town one holiday event at a time!"

"More like the dynamic disaster," I muttered. "If I have to spend more time with him, I might lose my sanity. Or my will to live."

Emma clutched her chest dramatically. "Oh no! Not the will to live! What will we do without your cheerful presence? Who will throw snowballs at him?"

"Right? I mean, someone has to keep him on his toes!" I said, giggling. "But seriously, how the hell did I end up in this mess?"

Emma smirked, her eyes sparkling. "Love. It's all about love, Lily. Or at least, holiday spirit."

"Love? Are you out of your mind? I'm not falling in love with the guy who wants to bulldoze my shop!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in exasperation.

"Right, of course," she said, smirking. "But it's a nice thought. I mean, he's not bad looking. Just think of him as a... uh... well, what's a nice way to say 'villain'?"

"Let's go with 'dashing rogue,'" I said, making finger guns like a total nerd. "You know, the type that swoops in, makes you question your entire life, and steals your coffee."

"Or maybe he's just a guy who can't resist a woman in a Christmas sweater," Emma said, winking. "You could call him a... 'sweater snatcher.'"

I burst out laughing. "A sweater snatcher? I'm going to put that on a holiday card and send it to him."

Emma was still chuckling when the bell above the door jingled. I turned around, and lo and behold, Max strolled in, looking annoyingly dapper in a green scarf that made him look like he had just walked off a holiday catalog cover.

"Speaking of sweater snatchers," I muttered under my breath.

26

"Hey, ladies," he said, waving. "Lily! Just the person I was looking for."

"Oh no," I groaned. "What do you want? Did you bring me a contract to sign away my soul?"

He laughed, walking closer. "Not quite. I was thinking we could work on your holiday fair booth together. You know, brainstorm ideas. Since you're the expert."

I shot Emma a look that screamed, Help me.

"Uh, yeah," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Because nothing says 'joyous holiday spirit' like collaborating with the man who wants to demolish my bookstore!"

Max crossed his arms, smirking. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Emma leaned in closer, whispering loudly, "Lily, I think he just called you an expert. Maybe he's sweet on you after all."

I shot her a glare. "Shut up!"

Max raised an eyebrow. "Is she always like this?"

"Only when she's trying to make my life miserable," I replied, feigning innocence. "So, what's your plan for the fair? You're not going to put up a giant inflatable snowman that steals all the attention, are you?"

He chuckled. "I was thinking we could create an interactive booth—something fun for the kids. Like a 'build your own snowman' station."