Reindeer cavorted all around the sweater vest that was long and loose, made to go over an outfit.
“An Ugly Sweater Vest,” he clarified, hoping she realized he was well aware of the garment’s questionable attractiveness. “It matches my Ugly Christmas Sweater.” He unzipped his ski jacket so she could see he wore the same prancing reindeer pattern on a black background. “That’s about as costume-y as I get.”
Laughing, she slid her arms into the drapey fabric of the vest. “And now, I’m over the top too. It’s perfect.” She admired the swish of the fabric in a tall mirror over the mantel. “Thank you.”
“I know I didn’t do your outfit any favors. But you look ready for a karaoke party now.” He held out his arm. “Are we ready to go?”
He spotted a moment’s hesitation in her eyes. Because of him? Or the drama sure to come?
“I’m ready.” Her voice rasped on a breathless note, but her spine straightened as she snaked a hand around his arm. “Let’s do this.”
Fifteen minutes later they arrived at the Garretts’ house, outside of the village but still within the town limits. Here, the homes escaped the year-round holiday décor mandates of the board. If it hadn’t been December, there would be no signs of Christmas. But since the holiday loomed two weeks away—and because the Garretts were throwing a theme party for their only daughter—the big brick Colonial glowed with white lights.
Parking the truck on the plowed field across the street from the home, Gavin pocketed the keys and went around to the passenger side to help Rachel down. She’d grown quieter on the drive over, a surefire sign that nerves were kicking in.
“How are you doing?” he asked, steadying her arm as she stepped down to the running board.
She skidded a little since her boots weren’t really boots in the protective winter sense. They looked nice though. As did the rest of her. He wished he was taking her somewhere they would actually have fun tonight instead of an event filled with social consequences and gossip. But if he wanted to help her be comfortable in Yuletide again, he couldn’t see any way around it.
“Hanging in there.” She hugged her coat closer, a forest-green-colored cape that was different from the standard parkas and down vests in this corner of the world. “Reminding myself how much it would mean to my mother if I made peace with the locals and came home more often.”
She kept her eyes on the front door of the Garretts’ house where a wreath blinked with more white lights. A few other guests were entering the house ahead of them and a hint of music filled the crisp night air for a moment.
Hoping to distract her—and yes, wanting to touch her—he tugged lightly on the satin-lined hood of the cape where it rested on the shoulder closest to him.
“I like this.”
Her expression softened from grim resolve to an almost smile. “Thank you. It was one of the first designs I took all the way from sketch to completion.”
“You made this?” He stepped away from her to look at the cape again. “The whole thing?”
“Well I didn’t spin the wool myself or anything.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “But yes, I had the idea, drew it up, refined it a few times and then cut the pieces to start sewing.”
“You went to design school after you left here.” He remembered her talking about clothes—but not in the way other girls did. She sewed elaborate patterns on her jeans and skirts, never afraid to look different from everyone else. “Are you still in the business?”
He slowed his pace up the long driveway, curious to know more about her and in no hurry to share her just yet.
“I started designing as soon as I left Yuletide, eager to prove I could find success apart from my family.” She toyed with one of the ribbons that decorated the lacings on the front. “I think I wanted to distance myself from everything back here, and the sooner the better.”
“Clearly, you had a good product if what you’re wearing was a first effort.” He knew nothing about how clothing lines got started. His business degree was general and had been a way to spend more time in the Rockies, doing what he really loved.
“Well thank you. But great designs are a dime a dozen. I lacked an understanding of my market and distribution.” She shrugged, peering behind them as another car parked in the empty field across the street. “Launching a label takes intense research and plenty of financial investment. But then, learning things the hard way seems to be a recurring theme for me.”
“So what are you doing now?” Hearing the slam of a car door behind them, he pressed a hand lightly to Rachel’s back, guiding her up the brick walkway sprinkled with salt to help keep ice at bay.
“I’m still designing, but I’m fulfilling orders for custom clothing through an online store. I’m a one-woman show.”
“Good for you.” He could hear strains of “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas” coming from inside the house, along with the warble of a karaoke singer. “I am investigating my own options for a business after I retire from snowboarding.”
He still hated saying those words. The idea of retirement made him feel ancient.
“You should do a snowboard theme for Jingle Elf.” They walked up the stairs to the wreathed front door and she pressed the doorbell. “Or maybe change his name to Jingle ‘X Games’ Elf. You could sell some snowboard equipment too, give it some extra cache since you’ll be living there and would be a local attraction yourself.”
He couldn’t tell if she was kidding—X Games Elf might be her idea of a joke. But he was already picturing the coolest elf house on Main Street if he gave Jingle some modern edge.
He didn’t have time to ask her if she was serious or not though, since the front door swung open and an imposing man dressed as the Abominable Snowman answered the door, a few cotton puffs from his costume blowing off him and into their faces. Their host didn’t even look Gavin’s way. His gaze landed on Rachel and stayed there.
“Katie!” the snowman bellowed at the top of his lungs, loud enough to stop the off-key karaoke singer even though the music continued to play. “We’ve got trouble at the front door.”
Gavin’s hopes for the evening sank a few rungs. He would salvage this. He had to. But he hadn’t anticipated the date getting off to this kind of start before they even set foot in the door.
Picking the stray cotton off his parka, he thrust a bottle of wine in the snowman’s padded middle. “Nice to see you too, Mr. Garrett.”
Startled, Bob Garrett finally glanced his way. “Oh. Hello, Gavin. Good to see you as well.” He looked uncertain what to do without his wife by his side giving an opinion. He glanced behind him. “I’d invite you in, but—er—”