How Nick and Holly Wrecked...Saved Christmas Read Free Page B

it?” His huge, dark eyes shimmer as he glances my way at a stop sign.
    “It’s a red 1970 Camaro Z-28.”
    “No way! That is sweeeet .”
    “It is,” I agree. “Mint condition. Not many like it.”
    “That’s... Wow.”
    “I know. It’s pretty awesome.”
    “Do you know what’s under the hood?” He’s smiling now like a happy baby or like my mom when Jake hugs her in the kitchen and says he’ll clean up.
    “I’m not sure. Maybe something with a three in it?”
    “Gotta be a 350. Gotta be.”
    “I can’t believe you haven’t seen it around town. Or heard it. It rumbles like a thunder storm when she rolls up to an intersection.”
    “You are killing me.”
    “Sorry,” I say and laugh. “When the mountain thaws out you can ask her to go for a ride.”
    He is still smiling and when he does, Nick Zernigan doesn’t look so much like a dangerous-smoking-loser-bad-boy. I try to relax.
    We start down the two-lane highway from Granny’s little community to the great metropolis of Black Diamond. Grey, slushy snow piles appear at random along the side of the road and large yellow road signs with blinking lights warn of hazardous curves and falling rocks. The dense woods on either side envelope the truck in darkness and only the occasional beams from oncoming traffic and our own headlights interrupt the black night ahead of us as we travel down the mountain.
    Nick clears his throat and messes with the radio. “I thought we’d stop at the store first, and then swing by my house. Then I have to make one other stop, and then we’ll drive out to Starbucks.”
    “Sounds good,” I say and fidget with my phone. Why Amanda thinks I have something to report this early in our non-date is beyond me, though I can already say I’ve embarrassed myself at least once. I tuck my phone in my coat pocket. “Are you working for that activity director or something?”
    “No. My aunt told her I was staying a few days and volunteered me to help out. I don’t care. It gives me something to do.”
    “So you’re the head of the senior Christmas dance decorating committee? Have you been cutting out snowflakes and attaching fishing line to them to hang them from the ceiling?”
    “No,” he says and pulls into the grocery store parking lot. “Collette volunteered you for that.”
    “You lie!”
    “It’s true. I’ll be moving chairs and wooden platforms and hooking up a lame sound system. You get to hang the snowflakes.”
    He dips his head and grins, and I don’t know how serious he is about anything.
    I chew my bottom lip. “As long as she didn’t sign me up to call BINGO. She did that one time. I’m not over it yet.”
    Nick laughs and hops out of the truck. He rushes around to make sure I’ve gotten out OK. It’s sweet the way he checks on me.
    I stomp the slush off my feet amidst the whoosh of the automatic doors. It’s nearly as cold inside the store as it is out. I pull my scarf closer to my face to hide my deformity, knowing full well only a ski mask would cover it.
    I grab a red plastic basket and hook it on my arm. “Granny doesn’t need much.” I take an awkward step toward the produce section because I don’t know if this is supposed to be a couples’ activity or if he wants to shop alone.
    He looks around and pushes his hat further down on the back of his head before he grabs a shopping cart. “Uh... OK. I’ll meet you back up front in about ten.”
    “Sure,” I say and tackle each aisle as if I’m on a scavenger hunt at youth group.
    But twenty minutes later, there’s no sign of Nick at the checkout. I consider texting him, but opt to do the next logical thing—creep on him from the end of every aisle until I casually run into him.
    I eventually spot him in front of the meat case along the back wall. He is leaning on the handle of his cart and popping the front wheels as he studies his list.
    I push my scarf away from my mouth. “I’m done,” I say. “About to head up front.”
    He