The Merriest Magnolia (Magnolia Sisters #2) - Michelle Major Page 0,52
I ruined the time at the beach,” he said softly.
“You could have told me you didn’t want to build the sandcastle.” She reached out and patted his hand. “I’m sorry if I encouraged you to do something you didn’t want to.”
“I was having fun.” The boy shrugged, suddenly looking a lot more like a kid and less like a surly teen. “The beach is cool. Those guys showed up and I just felt... I don’t know.”
“You felt peer pressure. It’s normal.”
“You have to be strong enough to say no.” Dylan placed three glasses of water on the table and took the seat next to Carrie. “You have to not care what people think. At least be choosy about whose opinions matter.”
Sam opened up the box and grabbed two slices of pizza. “Says the guy who drives a Porsche and wears a five-thousand-dollar watch.”
Carrie gasped and grabbed Dylan’s wrist. “Is he serious?” She tugged up his sleeve and studied the oversize silver watch that encircled his wrist. It was classy and shiny and cost enough to pay the mortgage on the studio for two months.
“It’s a vintage Rolex. I bought the car and the watch because of the quality. I don’t care what other people think.”
Sam covered his mouth and coughed, making Carrie laugh because of the obvious swear word he muttered.
“You’re not helping by encouraging him.” Dylan placed a slice of pizza on her plate when she released his arm.
“She’s helping a lot.” Sam grinned. “I feel much better giving you grief than I did being on the receiving end of it. Can we talk more about how much you care what people think of you?”
“Eat your pizza,” Dylan said through clenched teeth.
“It’s a nice watch.” Carrie tried to sound supportive.
Dylan gave her an annoyed look that made her dissolve into a fit of giggles.
As they ate, she told Sam about the snowmaking machine she’d rented and the LED light projectors that would beam multicolored effects on the town hall and other buildings along Main Street as part of a stunning light display during the festival’s final weekend.
“I’ve got a to-do list for you, too,” she said to Dylan after swallowing her last bite of pizza.
“No way.” He shook his head. “I’m anti-Christmas ridiculousness.”
“You volunteered to help.”
“I was told to volunteer.”
“Oh.” Carrie worked to keep her features neutral. She knew that, of course. So why did she keep forgetting that he wasn’t her ally?
“The festival’s gonna be awesome,” Sam said, wiping a sleeve across his mouth. “I think we need a gingerbread town backdrop around the Santa Claus display.” He reached for the sketchbook that he’d set to one side of the table. “I’m not sure what it would take to build it, but I drew some initial plans.”
“That’s a good idea, Sam.” Carrie reached under the table and poked Dylan’s leg. “It seems like it wouldn’t be too complex. I wonder who could help build something like that.”
She could almost hear Dylan’s teeth grinding. “I’ll help.”
“But you don’t even want to be involved,” Sam reminded him.
“I do want to help you.” Dylan got up from the table and picked up the empty pizza box. “If you promise to stay out of trouble, I’ll make an effort with the festival.”
“A real effort,” Carrie clarified. “Not one that includes snarky comments.”
Dylan scoffed. “I don’t do snark.”
“He says in a tone full of snark,” Sam said as he shared a grin with Carrie.
“I’m going to separate the two of you,” Dylan threatened.
Carrie gave Sam a high five. “He’s bothered. Mission accomplished.”
She got up to help clear the glasses and plates. “I almost forgot that I brought cookies.” The bag she’d brought in sat on the edge of the counter.
“We can have dessert while we finalize Sam’s plans for the gingerbread town,” Dylan said, pointing to the boy. “We’ll need to come up with a list of what we need from the hardware store. If I’m going to build this thing, you’re going to be my trusty assistant.”
“Meredith asked if Sam would be willing to come out to the rescue and paint a new sign for her booth. She’s going to make a big adoption push with some of her animals during the festival. The timing is perfect just before Christmas.”
“Sure,” Sam agreed. “Dylan can help.” The boy swallowed and hunched his shoulders, obviously embarrassed that he’d volunteered Dylan for additional work without asking, the way kids often did with their parents.
“I’ll help,” Dylan said casually, even though Carrie understood by the look