10 Date Night
I’m halfway through curling my hair when Maeve flops onto my bed, a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels in one hand and the kind of giddy grin that means she’s about to annoy me on purpose. Dakota takes a seat in one of my reading chairs, flipping through a magazine.
“So…” Maeve pops a pretzel into her mouth. “What are you wearing for your big romantic Christmas date with Jace?”
I give her a flat look in the mirror. “It’s not a big romantic Christmas date. We’re just… going out.”
Noah’s words loop in my head, the only thing keeping me from getting back in bed and pulling the covers over my head.
He’d want you to be happy.
Maeve gasps like I just insulted her entire bloodline. “It is Christmas in the city with a tall, broody, dangerously hot man who is very much in love with you—”
I spin in my chair. “He’s not—”
She points at me with a pretzel. “—and you’re telling me that’s not a date straight out of a Hallmark movie? Honey, there will be twinkling lights. There will be hot chocolate. There will be lingering eye contact. You’re literally living my streaming-service-fueled fantasy.”
Dakota giggles. “She’s not wrong. Jace is crazy for you. Anyone can see it. Just the way he looks at you.” Dakota sighs, her magazine falling to her chest, “I want someone to look at me like that.”
“Don’t we all?” Maeve flops dramatically.
I try not to laugh. “You both watch too many holiday movies.”
I’m not even sure how he even convinced me to go on this date.
“Correction—I watch the right amount of holiday movies, which is all of them. And this…” Maeve gestures at me, at the already slightly festive chaos of my room, “…this is the setup. You’re the small-town girl who’s been through too much, and he’s the emotionally damaged boy learning the meaning of love again. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re insane.”
“Maybe.” She smirks, hopping off the bed and rifling through my closet as if she lives here. “But I’m also right. Now, what are we thinking? Cozy-sweater chic? Or I’m-so-hot-he’s-gonna-trip-on-the-sidewalk hot?”
I raise a brow. “You do realize this is in public, right?”
She gives me a wicked grin. “Exactly my point.”
“You’ve got to use every opportunity to your advantage,” Dakota adds. “Life is a fashion show.”
I shake my head at both of them, making my way to the closet. Letting them both fuss over my clothes like I’m their own personal doll.
Eventually, we settle on a soft cream sweater dress, black tights, paired with my favorite knee-high boots. Dakota insists on adding a long camel coat and a scarf that matches my gloves, because “fashion matters even in freezing temperatures.”
When I finish my makeup, Maeve and Dakota lean against the doorway, arms crossed and looking entirely too pleased with themselves.
“Perfect,” Dakota says. “Now all you need is snow falling at exactly the right cinematic moment and a kiss under some mistletoe, and boom—award-winning holiday romance.”
Dakota and Maeve pretend to act out the scene and burst into giggles.
I roll my eyes but smile anyway. “You really think that’s how tonight’s going to go?”
Maeve grins. “Babe, I’m manifesting it.”
Dakota fusses with the hem of my sweater for the third time.
“It’s California, it doesn’t snow here.” I laugh.
A knock sounds on the door before I can respond. Maeve’s grin widens like she’s been waiting for her cue. “That’ll be your leading man.”
I want to drop my face into my hands, but I know I’ll get scolded.
She pulls the door open before I can stop her.
Jace stands there in the hall. He’s swapped his usual dark layers for a crisp wool coat, open to reveal a dark red sweater that looks far too good on him. His hair is styled effortlessly and the faint scent of his cologne drifts in with him.
His gaze slides to me like a heat-seeking missile, running over my outfit before it returns to my face. “Ready?”
I nod, suddenly aware of my own pulse. “Yeah.”
Dakota gives me a little shove toward the door. “Don’t keep him waiting.”
Jace offers his arm, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth when I take it. “Come on.”
“Use protection!” Maeve calls after us. Maeve and Dakota cackle. I shoot them a look over my shoulder.
“Those two are ridiculous,” I mumble. Jace gives my hand a squeeze with an amused smile.
We move through the quiet halls, our footsteps softened by the thick rugs. Most of the household staff have retired for the evening, and the air holds that peaceful stillness that comes when a big house finally goes quiet.
Instead of heading toward the grand dining room, Jace leads me out through one of the side doors. The cold night air hits instantly, our breaths misting in the light from the lanterns strung along the garden path.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“You’ll see.” His tone holds the kind of quiet satisfaction that tells me he’s been planning this.
We cut across the garden to where a sleek black SUV idles. The driver nods when Jace opens the door for me. “Evening, sir. Miss Ashthorne.”
The ride into the city doesn’t take long, and when we stop, I see why Jace is so smug.
Lights. Everywhere. A canopy of them arch over the street, reflecting off the shop windows and the thin sheen of fake snow on the cobblestones.
Different snow machines are hidden among decorations all around.
People move between little stalls selling roasted chestnuts, ornaments, and mugs of steaming cider.
Dakota and Maeve weren’t wrong. This looks like I walked on the set of a Christmas movie.
“You brought me to a Christmas market,” I said, my lips tug into a smile.
“Seemed like the kind of thing you’d like,” he shrugs.
And I do. More than I want to admit out loud.
We wander between the stalls, fingers brushing every so often until his hand finds mine and doesn’t let go. He buys us hot chocolate—thick and rich with whipped cream piled on top—and we end up on a small bench tucked beneath a canopy of twinkling lights.
“You’re smiling,” he says, watching me over the rim of his cup.
I shrug. “It’s nice, a slice of something normal.”
He doesn’t press, doesn’t push. Just sits there, watching the snow fall, letting the quiet settle in around us.
The hum of the market softens into the background. He leans against me on the bench, watching the families and couples walking about. “You know,” he says quietly, “my father would hate this.”
I glance at him, letting the heat from my cup warm my hands. “The market?”
“The… inefficiency of it.” His mouth quirks like it’s a joke, but there isn’t any humor in his eyes. “When I was a kid, he didn’t believe in wasting time on things like this. Said every hour should be spent training, learning, sharpening myself into the kind of leader he wanted.”
I frown. “A leader for the Guild. To take my father’s place.”
“Exactly.” His breath mists in the air, curling like smoke between us. “It wasn’t optional. If I wasn’t training physically, I was studying strategy, history, weapons, and languages. Anything to make me… better.” His jaw tightens. “Or at least better in his eyes.”
“After my mom left, he said if she could walk away from me that easily, then I had to prove my worth. To him, to everyone. That she’d regret leaving when she saw what I’d achieved without her. That I didn’t need her.”
There’s so much weight in his tone, I don’t even realize I reach for his hand until my fingers brush his. He lets me take it.
“I’m not perfect,” he adds quietly, “but I learned to be exactly what he needed me to be.” His thumb traces over my knuckles, almost absent-minded. “I don’t think he’s ever cared if I was happy. Just… useful.”
We sit there for a long moment, the cold settling in around us, the distant laughter of the market drifting through.
I squeeze his hand. “Well… I think you’re more than just useful, Jace.”
Something flickers in his eyes—not quite a smile, but softer than I’d seen him all night.
“Do you miss her?”
He doesn’t answer right away. His gaze drifts over the rows of glowing stalls, the strings of lights swaying gently in the wind.
“Yeah,” he says finally, his voice low. “I do. I was young when she left, but… I remember enough to miss her.”
“What do you remember most about her?”
“Sunflower seeds. She always had a bag within reach. I’d go and see her after whatever lessons dad had planned for me that day and sometimes she’d be on the couch, watching a show with a bag beside her.
She’d smile and ask me to join her. We’d share some while she held me. It’s the only bright spot I remember.”
I smile, my chest warming at the mental image. “That sounds really nice.”
He nods sadly, “It was.”
Chewing on my lower lip, I sift through my thoughts.
“I remember when I was little, my mom took me to a mall. It was just us. She bought me a dog plush, since she couldn’t get me an actual dog.
His name was Tidbit and I carried it around everywhere.
It became my prized possession because she got it for me. ”
“What happened to it?”
I sigh. “I left it in a hotel room. It’s when we were moving around a lot, staying in hotels. I left it in bed. I cried for weeks.”
Jace pulls me closer to him. “At least we have the memories.”
I nod and we sit in silence, just watching people go by.
“I’m glad you still have some good memories with your mom. After mine left, it was just him. No softness. No breaks. Just… training, orders, criticism. Always pushing. Always reminding me that one day I’d run the Guild, and it’d better be on his terms.”
My chest tightens. “That’s… a lot for a kid.”
He gives a small, almost bitter smile. “It was. But I guess it made me who I am. Just not in the way he wanted.” His eyes flick to mine in a way that makes my stomach flip. “Because if it had been up to him, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now.”
Something in my chest shifts. I squeeze his hand tighter.
Jace is quiet for a while, watching the swirl of snow in the light between us. Kids chasing after the flurries with wide smiles.