A grumpy pub owner is about to have his chilly heart warmed by a down-on-his-luck country singer.
Brann Argraves has never left the charming village of Whiteham before nor does he wish to. As the owner of the Whiteham Taphouse, he is content to spend his life serving drafts of beer to the locals, shooting darts with his buddies, and shutting himself away in his cabin for the duration of the holidays. Who needs all that ho-ho-ho, any who? His sister, on the other hand, not only yanked him out of his happy yet somewhat solitary bubble, but she’s also reveling in it. Planning a winter wedding was plain foolish, Brann feels, as is making people fly to some frozen wasteland in Canada to tie the knot. Now, he’s never been happier to return home after the wedding and get back to his bar, his darts, and his little home on the outskirts of town.
Landing at a wintry airport smack dab in the middle of a nasty snow squall, Brann and his weary fellow flyers are entertained by a handsome, rumpled man busking outside the airport. There’s something almost magical about the man’s dark, sad gaze as well as his angelic vocals. Perhaps it’s the residual merry-merry of his sister’s nuptials, or maybe he recognizes a lonely kindred soul, but Brann steps way out of his comfort zone when he offers the man a warm place to sleep above his bar. Kenan Gardet settles into the pub with ease and Southern grace. The down-and-out singer quickly proves himself an asset to Brann’s business as a good barkeep and as a nightly draw on stage. What he didn’t expect was Kenan capturing his heart one plaintive song and gentle kiss at a time.