Chapter 24
twenty-four
. . .
Rosalie
Letter to Sellers
My hand trembles as I clutch the paper, my eyes moving over the masculine scrawled words upon it.
Dear Potential Sellers,
My name is Wells McCoy, and I want to buy the open store in your building.
When I found out that I needed to write a letter to submit with my offer and application to purchase this space, I was surprised. My real estate agent told me that it was a request from you to help in making your decision.
I was told this space has been empty for over five years, and not because of a lack of applicants but because you were being selective. You wanted them to be a good fit, and the purpose of this letter is for me to convince you that person is me.
That added a bit more pressure to this letter thing.
But as a guy who’s spent the majority of his life in high-pressure situations, with a lot of eyes on me, I’m not easily deterred.
Your question was who am I, and why did I choose Mistletoe Falls?
And the truth is, your question made me think.
Why Mistletoe Falls?
My parents have owned cabins in the foothills of Cedar Ridge for years now, and after my mother had a health scare a few years ago, her one wish from it is to have us all together during Christmastime each year.
Our family is big into traditions, always have been.
And she wants us to carry on those traditions for many years to come.
It’s something we’ve always tried to make happen, but I’ve got five siblings, and we’re all spread out over the country. Me currently in Vancouver, two of my older sisters are in North Carolina. Another sister in California. My brothers are in Louisiana and Connecticut.
It’s hard for everyone’s schedules to align and get us at the same place, at the same time.
The reason I’m telling you this is because now more than ever, I realize how important family is to me.
Two years ago, I was playing professional hockey in Vancouver, for a team that I love, with men I called my brothers.
I was at the height of my career, my body was in the best shape it had ever been in, I had fans around the world, a strong relationship with my teammates.
I lived and breathed hockey. It’s all I had ever done since I was a kid and dreamed of playing hockey professionally.
The highest of highs.
And then in the blink of an eye, it changed. I got injured in a game, had to have surgery, and just like that… my hockey career was over. My dream was gone.
There was nothing I could do to change it, and it felt like my life I’d worked so hard for was being ripped away from me.
It was the hardest thing I had ever experienced, and truthfully, I’m not sure how I pulled myself from the dark place that I sank to.
But that’s what leads me to Mistletoe Falls now.
I remember sitting in my penthouse apartment in downtown Vancouver, looking out the window and watching life pass me by. A city that never stopped. It made me realize in that moment how everyone else had kept on living, and I felt like I was stuck in place.
In a city that was a constant reminder of what I had lost.
I decided that night that I wasn’t ready to stop living and that I was going to find who I was beyond hockey. I was going to search high and low for a new purpose. I wanted to leave the city, go somewhere quiet, small, where I could discover myself.
Two days later, I stumbled across the listing for the farmhouse I purchased on the outskirts of town.
If I’m being honest, it looked like it was on the verge of being condemned. But I saw the potential, and I bought it without much more thought.
It was a fast sale, and just like that, I was going to be a new resident of Mistletoe Falls. With a house I truly had no idea how to renovate and no clue what I was going to do… until I got a message from my mother the very next morning.
She said she heard there was a space in this building up for sale.
And the rest is history. That’s what brought me here, writing this letter, hoping to convince two total strangers that I’m worthy of buying a place that clearly means so much to them.
I never believed much in fate. Until now. Because ending up in Mistletoe Falls, with this house falling in my lap, and hopefully the start to a new business…well, that seems a lot like fate to me.
But I’m not here just to open a business. I’m here because it feels like the start of more than just my career, but my life. Like for some reason that I can’t put into words just yet, I’m meant to be here.
And the truth is, I don’t know if I am worthy of it.
But I promise to give it everything I’ve got.
I’m choosing Mistletoe Falls because I want a place I can call home.
Thank you for taking the time to read this letter, and I hope that you’ll consider me a good candidate.
Sincerely,
Wells McCoy.
P.S. I’ve included a photo of me and my very temperamental dachshund best friend, Frankie.
I pick up the picture that’s with the letter and laugh, shaking my head in disbelief at what I’m even reading.
Wells is smiling widely as he holds Frankie close to his chest. They both look so handsome that it makes my heart stutter. He’s wearing a flannel shirt, and what’s even more adorable is that Frankie’s wearing a matching one. Obviously, he understands the importance of matching with your children.
Turning, I look over at the man sitting next to me and find him staring back.
This letter just affirms what I’ve learned about him over the last few weeks.
That he’s driven and a hard worker. That he loves his family and would do anything for them, despite their meddling.
That he’s an amazing dog dad and a good friend. A good man.
The expression on his handsome face is a mixture of surprise and awe. He sets down the letter he’s holding, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
I’m still trying to piece together whatever this is when I see my handwriting on the letter he’s holding.
Oh my God.
He’s holding my Santa letter I wrote last month.
The one that mysteriously went missing from the mailbox.
The one that somehow… my grandparents have.
Just like I somehow now have the letter from his application.
Why do my grandparents have these letters? How do they have it? I have so many questions that my head feels like it’s spinning.
“Looks like I found your Santa letter, Sugar,” he says, his mouth twitching as he glances down at my letter that he’s holding.
I nod, pulling my lip between my teeth. “It does, doesn’t it?”
When I look back down at the letter in my hand, I notice another small, folded card that’s peeking out of the box. I lift my brow as I open it, immediately recognizing my Grams’ flowery script inside. I flick a glance at Wells, who nods, signaling me to read it out loud.
My darling girl,
By now, you’ve probably started to realize that your Gramps and I had a hand in your new beau arriving next door. I know that you hate when we meddle, but I think that this time… we got it right.
When we read his letter, we knew that we’d found the right man to buy the empty store, and also just maybe he’d be the right man for our granddaughter, too.
Yes, we may have intervened with fate just a bit, but there’s no doubt in either of our minds that the two of you would’ve happened even without a little push from us.
What’s meant to be will always find a way.
And it seems like he found his way right to Mistletoe Falls, and… to you.
Love you always,
Grams and Gramps
A laugh spills out of me, and I look at Wells, shaking my head. “God, their meddling really has taken on a whole new level. I can’t even believe… I can’t believe that they’re part of the reason you’re here, Wells. I had no idea.”
He scoots closer and lifts his hand to my jaw, cradling it in his palm.
“Me either. But… Fate. Divine intervention. All of that? Hell, I don’t know if I even believed in that.
Until now. Whatever it was… whatever happened, it led me right here.
You wished for me, Rosalie. How the hell did this even happen? ”
“I don’t know, Wells. God, I wrote that letter thinking it would literally never see the light of day.
Literally, just something silly with Kennedy.
And then you just moved into the store next to ours, and all of a sudden, I realized how many of those things you were checking off a list that I wrote before I even knew you existed. ” I laugh, brushing away stray tears.
His warm brown eyes are soft and shining with sincerity as he sweeps his thumb tenderly along my jaw.
“The best decision I ever made was coming here. You’re part of that, Rosalie.
I know that…” He trails off, his gaze moving down to the letter before lifting back to mine.
“I know that we said things would end after Christmas. I know it was supposed to be fake and temporary, but the thing is I don’t want it to be.
I knew that before I read your letter, but even more so now.
I want this between us to be real. Whatever you want it to be, whatever label, I just don’t want it to end. ”
My heart feels like it might pound right out of my chest at his admission, cracking open the part of me that I was concealing the same feelings for him behind.
I was worried they wouldn’t be reciprocated or that it would complicate everything.
But knowing that he feels the same… it causes fresh tears to well in my eyes. Reaching up, I curl my finger over his hand that’s holding my jaw, needing to feel him the same way.
“I want that too. I was just afraid to tell you how I felt because I didn’t want to make this awkward if you didn’t feel the same.”
“Rosalie,” he says, interrupting my ramble with a low, deep laugh.
“How in the hell could I not be crazy about you, Sugar? I’ve spent the last few weeks so wrapped up in you, I don’t know the way out.
I can’t go back to the way it was before, like I don’t know how beautiful you are.
How kind, passionate, driven, and witty.
How sweet your smile is after taking the first sip of your sugar milk from Frosty’s. ”
His mouth curves when I laugh, the sound watery from all of my tears, then continues.
“Or how you talk to Penny like she’s going to talk back when you think no one’s paying attention.
Or the way you put everyone before yourself without a second thought.
” He leans in closer, lowering his voice into a hushed whisper.
“How you fall apart on my cock, screaming my name. How you’re soft and warm first thing in the morning when you’re wrapped around me.
Now that I know what all of those things feel like…
I don’t want to have to walk away and pretend that I don’t want you. ”
If we weren’t in my grandparents’ living room, I’d launch myself at him and crawl into his lap, but instead, I just crush my lips against his and kiss him. I can taste the saltiness of my tears combined with the sweet taste of eggnog, and I’m surrounded by Wells, completely enchanted by him.
I tear my mouth away and stare back at him. “How are you even real?” I laugh but shake my head when he does too. “But seriously, I spent the last month thinking that I was losing my mind. That somehow, Santa was actually granting my Christmas wish. I questioned my sanity far too many times.”
“Promise I’m real.”
Lifting his letter between us, I run my thumb along the black ink on the pages. “I can’t believe my grandparents knew all of this about you before I did. This was… really vulnerable and beautiful, Wells.”
“I had no idea what to expect when I came to Mistletoe Falls. I mean, yeah, I’d been here before, but only to visit when we went to Cedar Ridge.
But now that I’m here… all I can think about is planting roots.
That’s not something I ever thought about with hockey because I was on the road more often than I was home.
I lived out of a suitcase. Living here has made me realize how much I want those roots, to invest in something the way I did hockey.
” Wells drops his forehead against mine as he inhales deeply, breathing me in.
“The whole time I thought I was searching for a place to call home, when all along, I was searching for you, Rosalie.”
Those silly tears turn into a strangled sob that spills past my lips, and once again, I’m slamming my lips to his, my fingers tangling into the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer.
God, this man.
He kisses me like he’s trying to prove the words. Until I’m breathless. Until I’m nearly in his lap from the need to be closer to him.
When I pull back to look at him, we’re both trying to catch our breath, his whiskey eyes hazy and unfocused.
“Does this mean that you’ll be my girl? For real this time?” he asks.
Without a single moment of hesitation, I nod. “Yes. I’ll be yours.”
It’s the easiest yes that I’ve ever said. I don’t know the future or what will happen along the way, but I do know that I want Wells McCoy.
He’s the man who made me believe that magic does exist.
And maybe it’s been here all along.