Chapter 14 Gracie
Mistletoe on Main was already an astounding success, Gracie decided, making a mental note to give props to Eleanor Locke and her team for a new and fantastic holiday celebration in Park City.
It didn’t hurt that the weather cooperated beautifully, with a whisper-light snow moving in at sunset after a day of sunshine and achingly blue Utah skies.
Now, flakes fluttered through the air like shaken glitter, each catching the golden glow of the streetlamps along Main Street, which was exclusive for pedestrians that day and night.
Down the festive and fully decorated street, brass instruments played a jaunty version of “Jingle Bells,” and the smell of kettle corn and roasted chestnuts filled the air.
Laughter spilled from bundled-up families sipping cocoa and cider as they wandered to each display outside the shops and restaurants.
Gracie stood beside “Sweet ‘n’ Clean”—the joint extravaganza that sat proudly in the middle of Main between their two bakeries.
Their whimsical creation had exceeded her highest hopes, perfectly blending her sugar-coated fantasy and his clean, modern sensibility.
One side was pastel pink with candy shingles and spun-sugar icicles dripping from the roof.
The other sleek was and architectural, with walls of almond-flour brick and cacao-bean trimmed windows.
In the center, where their styles met, the spun sugar bridge glistened in the light, drawing compliments and many pictures from admiring crowds.
Gracie snuggled into the fur collar of her winter jacket, her hands deep into her pockets as she watched people pose with her creation, then choose if they wanted to taste treats from the “sweet” or “clean” side.
Their assistant managers, Amanda for Sugarfall, and Roberto for Craving Clean, stood side by side at a table giving out samples in tiny tasting cups, laughing together at the friendly competition.
And wasn’t that what this was? A friendly competition.
Gracie glanced a few feet away to where Marshall stood chatting with a young couple he knew from his church. His dark hair was hidden under a knit hat, his laugh deep and easy. As they all talked, Marshall stole a look to the side, directly at Gracie.
For two or three heartbeats, they held eye contact, sending a rush from her head to her toes. She felt a smile pull. He gave a secret wink.
Right then, it felt like all of Park City froze in a moment of anticipation and hope and promise.
Could Marshall feel the same things she did? Could he be as attracted to Gracie as she was to him?
Was it possible…
She tamped down the questions as Olivia popped up beside her, a glimmer of mischief in her beautiful eyes.
“I saw that,” she whispered, leaning into Gracie.
“Saw what?” she replied, biting back a laugh. “That little kid who almost touched the spun sugar bridge? Thank you for saving the day.”
Olivia giggled and tugged at the leash that held her border collie. “Just promise me one thing, Miss Gracie.”
Gracie narrowed her eyes. “You scare me when you say that, Olivia.”
She trilled another laugh. “When we go to see Benny and Red skate? You’ll sit right where I put you.”
Just then, Marshall sidled up to them. “What are you two scheming about?” he asked with a teasing smile.
“None of your beeswax,” Olivia quipped, pulling her red cap over her eyes. “Oh, there’s another dangerous five-year-old, ready to smash Sweet ‘n’ Clean!” She scampered over to the little boy like she was the museum curator and police officer all in one.
“I heard a rumor,” Marshall said, leaning just close enough to torment Gracie when she met his impossibly dark gaze. “And it’s not good.”
“Another bakery coming to town?”
“Gah, I hope not,” he said, sounding sincere. “I heard we’re in the running to win the Gingerbread House contest.”
“Oh, we’ll win,” she said confidently. “We are the parents of Olivia Hampton and Benedict McBride, neither of whom knows the meaning of the word lose.”
She thought he’d laugh, but his expression grew somewhat serious as he considered what she said. Was it the kids or losing or…what?
“So, what’s not good about winning the contest?” she asked.
“There’s only one plaque,” he said. “So, who’ll get it?”
She felt a smile lift her lips, not because of the conversation but just…being near him. He had such a glow about him, such a deep light that drew her in. He made her feel good and hopeful just by existing.
How did he do that?
She had no idea, but she liked it. She liked him.
“I guess we’ll share plaque custody,” she said. “Like Benny and Olivia were supposed to do with the dog trophy that I understand has never left Olivia’s bedroom.”
He tsked. “She’s greedy with her prizes.”
“We can draw straws,” she suggested. “Or set up a schedule.”
“Or arm wrestle.”
She laughed. “Like I have a shot against you, Number Twenty-Seven.”
His eyes flickered with surprise at the admission that she’d gone to the trouble to look up his old jersey number. Oh, boy. So busted.
“And there it is,” he said, dipping a millimeter closer.
“There’s…what?” A truth bomb?
“That beautiful Gracie McBride blush that I never get tired of seeing.”
She huffed out a half-laugh, half-grunt, touching her gloved hands to her cheeks. “Even in thirty degrees, my cheeks give me away.”
“I love it,” he said, which only deepened the blush more. “It’s like a little window into your thoughts and feelings.”
“Oh, dear,” she murmured.
“What? You don’t want me to know your thoughts and feelings?”
“If you did, it would be…” She closed her eyes, no doubt scarlet by now.
He closed the space between them by putting his mouth next to her ear to whisper, “It would be game over?”
She bit her lip. “At least…a penalty.”
“Are you really going to use football analogies? Because…” He put a hand on her shoulder, and she darn melted onto the snow-covered ground.
“Because you’ll win?” she finished for him, her whole body humming with the flirtatious exchange.
“I’ll lose…the thing I’m trying so hard to hang on to.”
She searched his face.
He just tapped his chest with one finger, right over his heart. And Gracie was…yeah. She was done. Finished. His. Did he have any idea—
“Whoa!” Olivia cried out, making them both whip around. “Don’t touch that bridge!”
Another little boy was instantly pulled back from the display by his mother, who apologized and reminded him not to touch.
“It’s fine,” Gracie assured the mom, waving off her worries. “I’d be shocked if the bridge lasts the whole night.”
“It’ll last,” Marshall said, putting a light hand on her back and adding a smile.
Olivia sighed in resignation and came closer. “I don’t want it to break under my watch,” she said.
“Then let’s end your watch, young lady.” Her father reached for her hand. “And let’s walk around and see the other displays. Roberto will warn off wayward little kids.”
From behind the table, Roberto gave a playful salute. “We got this, boss. Go enjoy the night.”
Next to him, Amanda nodded. “By the way, ‘sweet’ is winning by a slim margin.”
“Very slim,” Roberto added, giving her a playful elbow as some more people came up to the table for samples.
A minute later, Gracie, Marshall, and Olivia meandered down the middle of Main Street, with Kat leading on her leash. They passed carolers in Victorian costumes singing under a string of twinkle lights, and a vendor dressed as an elf handing out paper cones of caramel corn.
Gracie’s heart felt light, her cheeks still warm from the exchange with Marshall that couldn’t be described as anything but romantic.
They walked like, well, a family, making her miss Benny with a sudden pang. They could be a family—Marshall, Gracie, Olivia, and Benny.
Could that happen? Could that dream actually happen?
Yes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this steady with someone. Around most men, her nerves twisted into a tight knot—too much small talk, too much wondering if she was saying the wrong thing. But not now, not with Marshall.
They turned a corner, following the crowd streaming toward the rink. Olivia trotted ahead, her pom-pom hat bobbing, Kat sniffing happily at her boots.
“I see Benny and Red,” she called, pointing toward the ice. “They’re getting ready!”
Gracie smiled, catching sight of her son in his own elf costume—green tunic, red hat, socks with bells that hung over his skates. He was buzzing with energy, his glasses crooked under the hat, his cheeks rosy and merry.
Red sat on a bench, hunched over, looking the part of Grumpy Santa. In fact, he didn’t even smile when Olivia called their names, but he gave a wave to her. Then his eyes lit when he saw Gracie and Marshall not far behind.
“I’ll be back, Benny,” Olivia called, then whipped around. “I reserved you two seats, so you must follow me, Dad and Miss Gracie.”
They shared a look and a laugh.
“I refuse to apologize for her,” Marshall joked. “She shall rule the world, and I just hope I’m around to see it.”
“I hope I am, too,” Gracie agreed, blowing a kiss for luck to Benny.
Olivia guided them to some temporary benches at the rink’s edge, right beneath a giant cluster of lights and hanging candy canes. She’d used scarves and gloves to save three seats.
“Right here, you guys! You can see everything!” she called proudly.
“Perfect,” Gracie agreed—and realized just how perfect when she noticed the giant mistletoe hanging above them. A few sections down, she spotted her mom with Cindy, Jack, Nicole, and Cameron.
Catching Nicole’s eye, they waved to each other. Then her cousin gave a completely not subtle thumbs-up, then pointed over Gracie’s head and mouthed, “Mistletoe!”
Maybe she mouthed it. Maybe she yelled it. The blood was rushing too noisily in Gracie’s head when she turned to Marshall who, of course, saw the whole thing.
“Friend of yours?” he joked.
“My cousin. And mom. And aunt, uncle, future cousin-in-law, and…yeah. My clan.”
He peered over her shoulder and gave a friendly wave. “Of course. I met them all last year. Want to go sit with them?”