Chapter 3
THREE
JUNIPER
Liam’s words echo in my head.
I can’t remember the exact order of them, but a few stuck.
Wasn’t a mistake.
Revelation.
Scared.
At his words, I’d wanted to turn and ask a million questions, but my bruised heart—and ego—wouldn’t let me. Liam may have regrets but that doesn’t mean he wants anything from me now.
From the moment he stood outside my apartment—hell, from the moment he walked into Blush & Binding—I’ve been trying to play it cool. And I feel like I’m failing.
The erratic apartment tour I just gave him made me feel like I was hosting a real estate show on fast-forward before leaving him and his suitcase outside my guest room and bolting into my bedroom.
This was not on my bingo card. I know because I handmade all the bingo cards for the Books & Bubbly event next week, and crush who humiliated you last Christmas confesses kiss wasn’t a mistake was not on it.
While my virginity is still intact, I want Liam to think that after he rejected me, I didn’t skip a beat. I’d gone out and found another gorgeous, capable man to do the deed. And now I’m living my best life.
Some of that is true. Or it will be.
But the reality is starting a business is a ton of work, and between graduating, fine tuning my business plan for the grant submission, and then finally getting the bookstore underway, I’ve had no time for a personal life.
Liam doesn’t need to know that.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I realize while I was playing tour guide, I missed messages from the group chat.
Cassie
Merry Moose tonight
Wiley
Is that different from any other night?
Cassie
Yeah, there will be more interesting people to look at.
Wiley
But you’re going to be there
Cassie
Fuck off, Wy
Wiley
Ladies first
Cassie
Three is starting to be a crowd.
Cassie and Wiley have a thing. They flirt, they bicker, they make out, then regret it in the morning. Rinse and repeat. Right now, I’d take any third-wheel drama over the hot-and-cold tension humming between Liam and me.
I type back that I’ll meet them at The Merry Moose in twenty minutes, then rummage through my closet until I find my cream sweater dress.
I cinch it with a belt, pull on my fleece-lined tights, then zip up my stiletto boots.
The boots are impractical for snow, but practicality went out the window the second Liam Hargrove moved in for the holidays.
If he wants to lurk in my apartment, fine. But he can watch me walk out of it looking so good he chokes on his own regret. I’m in full-on Eat your heart out, Liam Hargrove mode.
In my bathroom mirror, I touch up my curls, swipe on some lip gloss, and force my heartbeat into a normal cadence. I can do this. I can survive him. I can win this silent standoff.
I march down the hallway, then reach for my coat in the closet.
“Where are you off to?” Liam’s voice rolls over my shoulder.
I spin and find him hunched over my kitchen table, sleeves rolled up, reading Business Journal. He looks like a man who could buy and sell entire companies before breakfast—and then ruin your life after dark, just for fun.
But all I can see is last Christmas, the way he sat on my childhood bed, flipping through my half-baked business plan—pointing out projections and missed expenses—then kissed me like he wanted to ruin me for anyone else.
And now he’s sitting here, in my kitchen, looking at me like he might do it again.
Not happening, I remind myself.
“The Merry Moose,” I say, trying to sound breezy.
He folds up the paper, slow as ever, and moves to stand. “I’ll come with you.”
The thought of Liam hovering beside me at The Merry Moose while I try to drown the tension between us in a whiskey-spiked eggnog is not the vibe I was going for tonight.
And that’s when it really sinks in. He’s not just crashing in my guest room.
He’s going to be everywhere for the next few weeks.
Haunting Cedar Hollow like a ghost of Christmas past. Hanging around my parents’ house like he belongs there.
Slipping right back into our holiday traditions like he didn’t leave a kiss-shaped rejection lodged in my chest. And I’ll have to slap on a self-assured grin and pretend like I don’t feel it every time I look at him.
That I don’t remember the humiliation. The heart ache. And what I can only imagine he felt for me…pity.
Well, not if I have anything to say about it.
“I have a date,” I announce, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess myself. My subconscious clearly wants me to survive this with my dignity intact. By any means necessary.
Liam’s eyes narrow. “With whom?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and just when I think he’s not going to push me on it, his lips curve into a maddening smile.
“I’ll grab my coat.”
If Liam knows I’m lying about the date, he doesn’t let on as we make our way downstairs.
One of the perks of my apartment being located above Blush & Binding is living in the heart of downtown Cedar Hollow, surrounded by shops, restaurants, and cozy cafés strung with twinkle lights year-round.
Liam nods toward the construction site next door.
It used to be Wild Fern but after expanding, the owners moved operations to a greenhouse out near The Frosty Fir Tree Farm.
The storefront sat empty for a few months, which wasn’t great for a new business trying to draw foot traffic, but I’m hopeful about the incoming tenant.
“What do we have here?” Liam asks.
“It’s going to be a wine bar.”
Liam grins. “A perfect neighbor for your bookshop.”
“I know.” For a moment, my guard drops, and I can’t help but smile.
Last Christmas, he’d mentioned that if he ever quit the CFO grind, he’d want to open a wine bar. Somewhere cozy, with wine flights and good music. A place to unwind. To fall in love. I hadn’t thought about that conversation in months. Not until now.
“It seems someone else is living your dream.”
He glances at me, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Maybe. But some dreams change.” His smile softens. “Honestly, just being neighbors with you would be a dream in itself.”
The comment makes my pulse stutter. I’m not sure if he’s flirting or just being nice, but either way, my face is warm.
I force my attention back to the fact that I still haven’t met the wine bar owner in person, but we’ve chatted through the Summit County Small-Business forum and even discussed potential collaborations.
The owner, whose handle in the forum is PourChoices, has been a helpful resource for our small-town businesses, but especially me.
A few months ago, he reviewed my marketing plan and gave me tips on cutting overhead costs.
I’m curious who the owner is, but even Robyn down at the chamber of commerce has been cagey about their identity.
I’m half tempted to open the forum and message the elusive business owner for advice on what to do when your very inconvenient houseguest is your brother’s best friend slash walking heartbreak. But that’s ridiculous. And I’d never admit how much I rely on a stranger’s encouragement.
We’re halfway down Founders Street, walking toward The Merry Moose when my heel skids on a patch of ice. Instinctively, I reach out, grabbing Liam’s arm for balance.
His hand covers mine and that zap of electricity I always feel from him hits me.
“Interesting choice of footwear,” he murmurs, studying me.
I ignore the way his gaze lingers, how his brow arches just enough to make me feel like he’s onto my plan to drive him wild and he’s not falling for it.
“They’re festive,” I say, lifting my chin.
My boots are black, snug at the ankle, with stiletto heels that click against the pavement like a warning. Tiny gold rhinestones catch the streetlight with every step, like I’m walking in a constellation. They’re completely impractical, wildly dramatic, and exactly the energy I need tonight.
“Functional, too. Especially on ice.”
I keep my eyes forward, determined not to take the bait.
What does he know, anyway? Just because he looks like he walked out of a ski lodge catalog in that perfectly fitted coat and those smugly appropriate boots doesn’t mean he gets to judge my footwear. Even if they are completely impractical.
Still, I can feel the warmth of his gaze on me. And I hate how aware of him I am—of the way his arm felt when I grabbed it, steady and solid like it was the most natural thing in the world. I hate even more how part of me wants to slip again just so I can touch him.
He doesn’t say anything else, but the amused glint in his eye lingers as we continue walking.
And yeah, I’m starting to think he is on to me.
The moment I open the door to The Merry Moose, I’m greeted with a burst of warm air. As we enter, there’s a mix of chatter and laughter from the packed tables, with the classic “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” blaring over the sound system.
Liam glances around the space, taking in the glittering ornaments hanging from the ceiling, the festive twinkle light garland decorating the rustic mahogany bar, and of course the sprig of mistletoe dangling from the wooden beam between the arcade room and the front of the bar that was the catalyst for Stella and Jasper’s first kiss last year.
And now they’re engaged.
My heart wants to linger on the romance of it all, but I need a plan. And fast.
The benefit to Liam not being a local is I could pretty much pass anyone off as my date without him suspecting. I scan the bar looking for a potential fake date.
My eyes land on Wiley. He’s across the bar sipping on a Nutcracker Stout, his favorite beer. He lives for that shit.
By a stroke of luck, Wiley sees me coming and smiles.
“How’s my best girl, Juni Petuni?” he croons, grabbing my hand to spin me around.
He’s probably three beers in, but he’s the best I’ve got.
“Pretend we’re on a date,” I rush out, knowing Liam isn’t far behind.
Wiley scrunches his nose. “Really? I was hoping to get that blonde’s number.” He gestures to a woman near the bar.
“Pretend now and I’ll be your wing woman later.”
He quirks his lips and bobs his head side to side like he’s really thinking about it.
“I’m the best wing woman and you know it.” I press a finger into his chest for emphasis.
“Fine,” he sighs. “What do I have to do?”
I glance around, relieved that Liam didn’t follow me. Instead, I find him talking nearby with Jasper and Stella. They’re surrounded by a group of people congratulating them on their engagement. I should go over and talk to them, but I desperately want to keep my distance from Liam.
“Pretend I’m irresistible. Especially when the man in the burgundy sweater is around.”
Wiley glances in Liam’s direction, then awkwardly puts an arm over my shoulders. Trying to appear flirtatious, I start laughing loudly.
“Why are you laughing?” Wiley asks.
“Because you told a joke.”
“No, I didn’t.”
I groan but do my best to keep a smile on my face. “Wiley, you are so bad at this.”
“Pretending is not my strong suit.”
“Is that why the women you sleep with hate you the next morning? You can’t even pretend to care about them?”
“Ouch.”
“The truth hurts. Ask Lizzo.” I shrug, then glance around. “Where’s Cass?”
“Playing some tourist at darts.”
That sounds about right.
“I’m going to get a drink,” I say, turning to head toward the bar. Then I pause, glancing back at Wiley. “Hey, I need you fully committed to this. Are you in?”
He takes a sip of his beer casually. “Yeah, definitely.” His eyes flick to the basketball game on the screen. “Also, grab me another beer?”
I narrow my eyes. “Wiley.”
He finally looks at me, and I step forward, rising on my toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. At the contact of my lips, he flinches.
“I didn’t think kissing was part of the deal.”
I shoot him a pointed look. “Play the part.”
His shoulders straighten. “Right. Got it.”
Then, loudly enough for half the bar to hear: “All right, baby, see you in a few.”
I sigh, biting back a groan, but then I offer him a quick smile. This is Wiley trying.