Chapter 16
CHRISTMAS EVE
Grayson
Aday later, and I was still riding the high of my night with Harper. Every time I let my mind drift, I could see her sprawled out in front of the fire, the flames dancing over her glowing, bare skin, her satisfied smile hazy, and her body wrapped around mine.
Every time my phone buzzed, I half expected it to be her, even though what I was really waiting on was a reply from Ollie.
Nothing yet.
Although the old man wasn’t known for his prompt replies, and it was Christmas Eve, his silence still made me nervous. I tried to distract myself from worrying about it with more thoughts of Harper.
Her kisses. The feel of her coming undone around me. Her smooth, bare legs sticking out of my shirt as she relaxed on the couch, comfortable in her own skin with me.
The easy way we talked about anything and everything.
Well, almost everything. I still didn’t know what her plans were for after the holidays. She’d managed to dodge the subject every time it had come up. But that didn’t mean she was leaving again. In fact, not once had she talked about a new contract or a job she was going back to.
If I wanted to believe that meant she was staying, that’s what I was going to believe.
At least until there was a reason not to.
Even if it made me seem delusional.
I set my phone down and reached for another roll of wrapping paper. The community center gym was alive with chaos. Next to me, there was a stack of gifts ready to be wrapped, tape stuck to tables, kids’ names written on tags, and a pile of bows toppling over every time I moved.
My brothers were scattered around the room, recruited by me, each one attempting with varying degrees of success to wrap presents without leaving jagged edges and bald corners.
“That does not look like it was wrapped in Santa’s toy shop.” I took the sloppily wrapped gift from Preston and pulled back the tape in an effort to fix it.
“Who are you, Santa?”
“Actually,” I grinned, “I am. At least for a few hours when I deliver all these later tonight to the kids in need, I am.”
“Well, I am not an elf,” Preston said. “In fact, what I really need to be doing is putting together a petition to save the trails.”
I shook my head. “Still no luck with that, hey?”
A flicker of guilt hit me. The new development was still a sore spot with Preston, and I’d been so wrapped up in my own stuff and Harper, I’d forgotten to ask him about it.
“No.” He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “I’ve been trying to pin down Jess to find out who exactly this developer fiancé of hers is, but she’s not returning my calls. Yet. If she doesn’t get back to me soon, I’m going to end up showing up at her house on Christmas morning.”
“You are going to do no such thing.” I tried to give him my best big brother look. “It’s Christmas. I’m sure she’s got a lot going on. Wait until after the holidays. It’ll work out. But for now…” I shoved a box of LEGO at him. “Work on your wrapping.”
I felt for him; I really did. And I respected how much he cared about the trails and Trickle Creek. Where Preston focused on the natural spaces in this town, I spent my energy on the people. Especially at this time of year. Which was why I needed these gifts wrapped. And wrapped properly.
I’d been playing the role of Santa long enough in this town that it was only natural that I’d developed a certain level of standards. All the kids of Trickle Creek deserved perfectly wrapped gifts. Even if they were going to shred the paper in seconds.
“Grayson Lyons, you are a saint.”
I didn’t even have to look up to know who it was. Sure enough, Tilley Beckett strode toward me, wearing a bright-red, glittery sweater with candy canes embroidered all over it, complete with matching candy cane earrings and, of course, her clipboard.
“I’m not sure about saint.” I winked at her. “But you can call me Santa. At least for another few hours.”
“Saint Santa.” She patted my arm. “Year after year, you show up, put on the suit and hand out gifts, Grayson. And that’s after weeks and weeks of stringing lights and hanging half the decorations in this town. I’d say that qualifies for sainthood, don’t you?”
I laughed and shook my head. “I appreciate it, Tilley. And I really appreciated the night at the lodge,” I added. “It wasn’t necessary, but I have to admit, it was very nice.”
I wasn’t about to tell her exactly how nice it was.
“Oh? You had a good time with Harper then?” Her eyes lit up. “I heard the two of you took full advantage of everything the lodge has to offer.”
My head jerked up. “Where did you hear that?”
“Oh, I have little elves everywhere.” She winked. “And I’m so glad to hear it. That girl has been gone from this town far too long. Whatever it takes to get her back here and keep her here, right?”
I tilted my head, ready to question exactly what she meant by that, but then someone called her name from across the room.
“Keep up the good work, Santa.” She waved her clipboard in the air before sweeping away.
As soon as she was gone, Reid dropped into a chair beside me, a wide, knowing grin on his face. “So,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “how was your night at the lodge?”
“Not you too,” I groaned.
“Obviously, me too,” he said.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said without looking at him.
“Oh, I think I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve been walking around all day with that stupid grin on your face. The one that tells everyone who’s paying attention that you and Harper got—”
“Okay.” I whipped around to give him a warning look. “Enough.”
There was no point denying it. Not with Reid.
“It was amazing,” I admitted quietly.
Reid’s eyebrows shot up. “Just like old times?”
“No.” I shook my head. My chest tightened, remembering the fumbling sweetness of those early days with Harper. “Better. So much better. It was different. More real.”
“Real?” Reid blew out a breath. “Interesting choice of words, brother.”
Maybe it was, but there was no way to explain to him how things were with Harper. True, it had all started as a little lie, but that didn’t mean the feelings behind it weren’t genuine.
When I didn’t reply, he added, “So when are you going to stop pretending it’s not more?”
I folded the paper over the box and reached for the tape. “What do you mean?”
“I tried to warn you away from all of this.” My brother sighed. “But since that clearly isn’t going to happen, I’m just going to say one more thing.”
“Why do I doubt that?”
He ignored me. “Just shoot your shot, Gray,” Reid said. “I mean, we’re not kids anymore. What’s the worst that could happen? She doesn’t feel the same way?”
“No,” I said after a moment. “Worse would be telling her, and she leaves again.” I yanked a piece of tape from the roll and stuck it down with more force than necessary.
“Right,” Reid said. “But what if she stays?” He waited a beat before grabbing a bow and sticking it on the box I’d just wrapped. “Think about it, brother. But nothing changes if nothing changes.” He gave me a knowing look, grabbed the present and left, leaving me staring after him.
And thinking.
Because, as much as I hated it. He wasn’t wrong.
I’d already put it out there when it came to the store and Ollie. Why not go all in?
Later, when the last gifts were wrapped and stacked and the suit and beard were ready for me to change into, I slipped out of the community hall and headed down the street toward my house.
At home, I went straight for the top drawer of my dresser.
Behind my socks, it was still there. The little velvet box I’d never been able to part with.
Inside, the promise ring glinted in the dim light.
Simple silver with a small amethyst stone.
I could still see Harper’s tears of happiness when I’d given it to her, and then the tears of her heartbreak a year later when she’d hurled it at me after I told her I didn’t love her.
After I’d told the worst lie of my entire life.
After she’d fled the gym, I’d dropped to my knees and scooped up the ring, unwilling to leave it there.
Now, I turned it over in my fingers, my chest tight.
Maybe it was foolish. Maybe I was setting myself up for even more heartbreak.
But I wasn’t eighteen anymore. I’d lied to her once, to make her go and live her dreams. Maybe this time, if I told her the truth, she’d stay?
I put the ring back and snapped the lid shut.
There was only one way to find out.
Harper
The kitchen was alive with noise and motion: The scent of sage and butter thick in the air. Pots clattering; steam rising from the stove top. Christmas carols playing from a speaker in the corner. And laughter and easy chatter on top of it all.
Kevin manned the carving station, slicing turkey with laser focus while Erin and two high school volunteers assembled take-out boxes down the line.
Grandma and I worked side by side at the big prep table.
We stuffed dinner rolls into bags and scooped cranberry sauce into tiny containers.
It felt like the old days, the two of us moving together in rhythm without even trying.
It was moments like this as a teenager that made me want to be a chef in the first place. I’d forgotten.
“This reminds me of when you were little,” she said, her cheeks pink from the heat of the kitchen. “Always underfoot, stealing cookie dough from the bowl, and wanting to stir the pots.”
I laughed. “I still want to taste everything,” I said. “But I don’t think I’m quite as in the way as I once was.” I reached for a finger full of cranberry sauce as she swatted me away with a spoon.
It felt good. Really good.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t trying to build a menu among wild guest requests and dietary restrictions, trying to balance in a rocking galley as a boat rode the swells, or trying to source rare ingredients in exotic ports.
I was at home, in the kitchen, cooking familiar dishes with my grandma.
And for the first time in a long time, it was enough.
More than enough.