Chapter 15
Nick
Hello wife. I’m making homemade pizza tonight if you want to come over and enjoy some with me. I haven’t seen you much this week which doesn’t bode well for our appearance of being married.
Thanksgiving is the day after tomorrow and I haven’t heard from Noelle since she called to lecture me about talking with her grandma.
What was I supposed to do, slam the door in the little old lady’s face?
I’d only do that if I had a death wish because Grandma Carol was with her at the time.
Denying those two is impossible. Once they latch on they don’t let go until they have what they want. And what they wanted was information.
When did we reconcile?
How was it seeing one another again?
Who asked the other to get married? (It better be me because I’m the man. Little do they know.)
Would we rather have daisies or dahlias at our wedding?
They hammered me with question after question, and I think if Noelle had been here to witness it she would have been in awe of how well I handled them. Not that it was hard—talking about being her husband is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.
Fake husband, a voice inside my head snaps.
“Fake husband,” I whisper to myself, setting my sketching pencil down.
My eyes focus back on the drawing in front of me, taking in the image of a new museum the city has commissioned.
They have some big, mega-billionaire donor who’s partially running the show on the project design which is making my work harder than normal.
I usually have to abide by one party’s requests for certain design features, but this time I’m fielding two.
And they’re two parties who aren’t seeing eye to eye on anything I send in, making getting it done all the more stressful.
I reach my hands behind my head and lean back, stretching my shoulders after a few hours sitting hunched over the table.
When I feel my phone buzz, I snatch it up and read her message.
Hey, that’s really nice of you to offer but I’m going to be working late tonight so I can’t.
My brows pinch together in the center of my face. She rarely works past six but I know the Thanksgiving dinner in two days is causing work to be a little busier than normal.
That’s okay. Is everything okay?
Uhhh, it will be. Just another problem I need to figure out.
What problem, sugar?
It’s nothing. This is the week we usually get all the decorations up in the inn so it’s decorated for dinner.
We always leave the wreaths that hang in all the windows for last because they take awhile.
Well, of course this year, the last year before I take over, the company I hired to hang them bailed at the last minute.
And Belle is out sick with the flu this week so it’s just me here to get them all up.
I just have a lot of work to do, that’s all.
Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s half past four.
While the sun is still up now, I know it won’t be for long seeing as how it gets dark so soon these days.
Not only that, the first snow of the year is on its way into town according to the news so she’ll be hanging wreaths on the outside of the inn, alone, in the dark, when it’s freezing outside.
If anyone can get it done, sugar, it’s you.
I send the message and set my phone down to grab my shoes and my coat.
The last thing I’m going to do is sit here like a moron knowing she’s stressed.
My work can wait, hers can’t, and if I can help her out in some way I’m going to.
Once I have myself together, I snag my phone off the table.
A new message from her is waiting for me.
Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m pulling up the main drive to Holly House. As I slow to park, I lean forward over my steering wheel to make sure I’m really seeing what I’m seeing. I throw it into park and step out with a purpose.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I bark, stomping towards the front of the inn.
Looking up, I see Noelle standing on the top of a twelve foot ladder leaning against a window trying to hang up a prelit Christmas wreath.
“Nick?” she asks without turning around. Her arms are extended above her head as she tries to reach the window.
“Get down from there right now,” I demand, walking towards the bottom of the ladder. Not only is she out here without anyone spotting her but she’s also climbed to the top wearing her heels.
“What are you doing here?” She doesn’t pause in her attempt to hang the wreath and instead stretches further to the point where one of her feet leaves the ladder. My heart stalls in my chest as I wait to make sure she doesn’t fall off and hurt herself.
“Sugar, for the love of all things Christmas, please come down.” I’m practically begging at this point.
Unable to reach the window, she drops her arms in defeat. “Fine.”
She slides the wreath down her arm like a purse and starts to climb down.
She’s halfway down when one of the wet rungs causes her foot to slip.
She fails to catch herself and goes tumbling over the side.
Releasing the ladder, I move to catch her before she hits the frozen ground beneath us.
My arms cradle her as she falls, and she wraps her arms around my neck as I catch her.
She looks at me with wide eyes, our faces only a few inches apart as she works to catch her breath from the fear of falling six feet to the ground.
“Man am I glad you showed up,” she says, looking at me, still holding on tight.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I ask, knowing I could put her down but not wanting to.
“Actually, Nick, yes. I woke up this morning and thought ‘hmm, what could I do today that would scare Nick so bad he becomes the ghost of Christmas’s past?’” she bickers, making a face at me. Her eyes glance to the ground for a moment before looking back at me. “You can put me down, you know?”
“I think I’m okay, actually. We can stay like this all night, I’m quite happy how things are,” I reply honestly.
She begins to wiggle herself free so I gently set her down.
“No, we can’t. Mostly because I have a lot of work to do but also because…” she pauses and gives me a quick once over. “Because I have a lot of work to do.”
I smirk at her, knowing the real reason she doesn’t want me to hold her longer than needed. Because doing so would make it hard to not break the rules she set herself for our little arrangement.
“Well then put me to work, boss. I’m here to help,” I offer, staying close on her heels as she walks towards the porch. It’s full of wreaths, bows, and Christmas lights ready to be hung up. She spins around and screws her face up at me.
“You want to help me hang Christmas decorations?” She seems genuinely confused by my willingness to help her out.
“Yeah? You said it was going to take you forever. I figured if you had a second pair of hands it would only take a millennium instead of forever.”
She raises her brows at me. “You think a step down from forever is a millennium?”
“Well a thousand years feels like less than forever, so yeah,” I shrug.
She laughs and the sound of it makes my skin prickle. “You’re a dork, you know that?”
“You’re talking to a man who draws and calculates numbers for a living. I’m a professional dork, thank you very much,” I hum, bringing my hand to my chest and smiling at her.
Reaching out a hand, she presses a finger into my cheek. It’s something she used to do when we were together.
“I like your dimples,” she compliments, another thing she would do when we were kids. “Thanks for coming and helping.”
We’re standing only a few inches apart from one another and I want something criminal to kiss her. I manage to hold onto any amount of self-control I have and simply smile at her.
“You’re welcome, sugar. Like I said before, anything you need, I’m here for you.”
For the next several hours we work on getting all the wreaths hung up in the windows of the inn.
She works on checking that the lights work and that the bows are perfectly flushed while I stand on the ladder and hang them up.
The lights from inside are the only thing lighting up the space as we work like a well-oiled machine.
Climbing down the ladder after hanging the last one, I take a step back to admire our work.
Noelle steps up next to me and tips her head back to take in the inn.
My eyes fall to where she’s standing. The light from the fake candles inside the windows paired with the glow of the Christmas lights illuminate her face.
Her hair falls down her back in perfect waves and her cheeks are flushed from the cold.
After a moment, I notice that her eyes are watery and she’s holding back tears.
“Hey.” I take a step towards her and wrap an arm around her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head and sniffles. “Nothing, it’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid, tell me.” I give her shoulder a shake as I pull her into my side.
She shakes her head and shrugs. “I just love this place. It’s been my home almost my entire life and seeing it all light up, I don’t know, it brings back reminders about how it became my home in the first place.”
My heart sinks lower in my chest thinking about why Noelle landed in Evergreen Hollow when she was a little girl. The loss she suffered that brought her here.
“It’s always a weird mix of grief and joy when I see it all lit up,” she continues. She brings a hand to her cheek to wipe away the tear that’s fallen down her cheek. “Like I said, stupid.”
I fold her into my chest, forcing her to wrap her arms around my center and hold her tightly.
“It’s not stupid, sugar. Not even a little. And while I never knew them, I know your parents would be proud of the woman you’ve become. I know I am.” I kiss her on the top of the head in reassurance, ground rules be damned.
She holds onto me a few seconds longer before taking a step back and looking at me. She looks like she’s about to say something but a voice cuts through between us.
“Hey, you two, come inside and eat. I saved you both a plate and I have hot chocolate on the stove,” Eve calls out from the porch. Her arms are wrapped around her center as she stands in the cold. I didn’t even notice how cold it had gotten until Noelle pulled away from me.
She gives me a shy smile. “I guess it’s time to eat.”
When she takes a few steps away, I reach for her hand and stop her. Turning, she looks at where we’re connected before bringing her eyes to mine.
“I mean it, Noelle. I’m really proud of you. Of everything you do here. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
She squeezes my hand. “Thanks. Now come on, I’m starving and I think if we ask nicely, Eve will throw in some of her homemade gingersnaps she made for Thanksgiving dinner with our hot chocolate.”
Then she pulls away to head inside, leaving me standing in the cold.