Chapter 25 Holly
HOLLY
Relationships are like Christmas lights. They take patience, half of them don’t work, and they all end up in a tangled mess. But untangling them can be so much fun.
—Holly’s Secret Thoughts
I’m certain my entire family knows Cherry Creek at Christmas is my favorite time of the year, and as we pull into the parking lot that afternoon, I’m reminded of why.
Wreaths studded with ruby-red berries loop every single one of the old-fashion lamp posts my father brought a few years ago.
Red ribbons flutter in the breath-fogging air.
Icicles fringe the tasting-room roofline like spun-glass ornaments hanging from a Christmas tree.
And the courtyard—the courtyard is perfection, like a snow globe mid-shake, with carolers singing and the cocoa cart steaming like the Polar Express about to leave for the North Pole.
“This place was my mom’s pride and joy before she died,” I whisper to Camden, feeling nostalgic. “Every detail was her brainchild, and she was adamant they all be perfect.”
“It’s pretty amazing,” he agrees, a step behind me, his broad shoulders testing the limits of his wool coat and Sophie tucked into the crook of his arm without a care in the world.
The pink knitted hat sits crooked on her head, even if Camden keeps trying to adjust it, determined to win an apparently serious battle with the tiny pom-pom on top.
My grinch’s eyes snag mine, a question lingering there.
You good? silently passes between us, and that one small look makes everything easier.
Sometimes being here without mom still hurts, but right now, I can’t help but think how much she’d have loved Camden and Sophie.
I chew my bottom lip and smile. My silent answer sitting somewhere between I’m good and I’m good for now.
“Do they have any allergy-friendly drinks?” Rosie turns to ask from in front of us.
“Oh, honey, I doubt—” Emmie starts to let Camden’s niece down sweetly, but I wasn’t about to let that happen.
“They don’t have anything out here, but .
. . Do you see that big house over there?
The one with the Petal & Vine sign?” I motion to the bed and breakfast my sister runs.
“I called earlier and asked if she had anything for you, and she was more than happy to make sure they do. And the best part is that kitchen is allergy-free because my sister is allergic to a ton of things.”
“Like me?” Rosie asks as Emmie and Maverick smile at me.
“Dairy, tree nuts, wheat, bees, and shellfish,” I tell her, then look up at her parents. “Rainey doesn’t take any chances. If you’re okay with it, she has special hot cocoa that is Rosie-friendly.”
“Thanks, Holly,” Maverick murmurs and looks over my shoulder at Camden as Rosie takes Emmie’s hand and pushes forward.
“You’re good,” Camden whispers as he pulls me into his side.
“I try,” I whisper and look away, still trying to navigate the newness of all this.
Trying to ignore the way the world tilted on its axis last night and the fear I have that it’s going to tilt back without warning.
We make our way through the vineyard, past the reindeer and food stalls, then stop where the line zigzags around French oak barrels wrapped in fairy lights with the vineyard’s logo stamped on the tops.
Saint Nick sits on a velvet throne, complete with faux presents, an antique sled, and rows upon rows of grapes hidden under the fresh coating of snow.
Mrs. Claus, also known as Hadley, looks perfect.
All bright-blue eyes and rosy-red cheeks.
Her red-velvet dress is definitely shorter on her than it was on me last year, but that’s not surprising.
However, she hands out candy canes with military-like precision, unlike me, who gave extras out like I was Oprah handing out cars.
Hadley sees me and waves us over. “I swear if another person so much as breathes sticky near this velvet, I will personally put coal in their stocking,” she hisses before she kisses my cheek.
Poor Rosie’s eyes widen in horror, and she sticks her hands in her pockets.
I’m gonna kill Hades.
Rosie moves in next and climbs up on Santa’s lap, rattling off her list while my sister stares at Camden. “So, Grinch. There’s a whole lot of mistletoe around here. Do I need to find some for you two to stand under?”
I choke, and Camden shocks the tinsel out of me when he laughs.
Laughs.
My grinch.
“Couldn’t hurt,” he tells her, and I about fall over.
“I think I’m going to like you.” Hades points a candy cane at him. “But don’t fuck her over, or I’ll carve your heart out with the pointy end of this, got it?”
“This is why her nickname is Hades,” I groan, but Camden doesn’t seem to mind.
“I’ll sharpen your sugar for you. Sound good?” he asks, and Hades nods.
“You passed.” She steps aside as Rosie cheeses for the camera and climbs off Santa’s lap. “Looks like you’re up.”
“Go ahead,” I tell Camden, but he takes my elbow and tugs me along.
“This was your idea, vixen. Don’t think you’re getting out of it that easily.”
And there goes another piece of my heart.
“My favorite elf,” Santa whispers between jolly laughter, and I bite down on my tongue as he slides his arm around my waist. Ugh. There’s a reason my sisters and I call him Handsy Santa.
I adjust Sophie’s dress as Camden holds her close for the picture, and I angle for the camera the way you learn growing up at a vineyard that doubles as every small-town photo op location for everyone you know.
Santa’s hand slips lower until it rests under my coat, firmly on my ass.
The photographer has to change a lens, and I cringe at the extra time.
“Big smiles now,” Santa murmurs a little closer than I expected, and there’s a hint of bourbon on his breath. That’s new. He never drank on the job in all the years he’s been working for my family. And with my mind already trying to process that, I feel his hand slip lower.
You’re fine, I tell myself. Step away.
I shift, but so does his hand as it digs into my leggings between my legs.
“Excuse me,” I say softly as I pull away, my skin crawling, but not wanting to cause a scene.
Sophie squeals a happy sound, and it snaps in the air.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Camden’s voice slides through the lights and laughter, shattering the carefree scene around us, and I flinch. Everyone does.
Maverick’s head whips up, and Hadley steps closer.
The next moments happen like a bad accident you can’t look away from.
Santa straightens defensively. “Not sure what you think you saw, young man, but you need to lower your voice before Santa puts you on the naughty list.”
Oh shit.
I look to Hadley for help, but she’s as frozen as I am.
Camden passes Sophie to Maverick. “Hold her,” he tells Mav.
And before I can form a single word, Santa mumbles something that makes me cringe and Camden steps into him. Not a lunge. Not for a show. Just a single, terrible mistake of a step and his fist meets Santa’s nose with a sickening sound that echoes off the barrels and reverberates through the crowd.
Santa falls into the sleigh, knocking it over.
“Santa said a bad word,” Rosie gasps.
“Oh fuck,” Hadley adds.
Rosie looks at my sister. “Mrs. Clause cursed too.”
“Camden!” I grab his coat, my fingers fisting the wool. “Stop. There’re cameras. Camden . . .”
His mossy-green eyes flame with anger as his breaths come harder when he finally looks at me. His eyes raking over every inch of me, taking inventory. “Are you hurt?”
I take his hand in mine, in shock. “I’m fine,” I whisper, but that might be a lie. I’m not even sure.
“You’re not,” he bites back, and it’s the bone-deep certainty that has tears forming in my eyes.
When I turn away, I see Hadley rushing back over with two of our security guards with her. They help Santa back onto his velvet throne, who’s dazed as he touches his nose. “She—” he points at me and then Camden. “Your little girlfriend—”
“Choose your next words wisely, old man, if you want to keep your teeth,” Camden growls so softly, it’s worse than any shout could ever be.
I feel the eyes on us. The phones rising. The pictures and videos being taken.
And out of nowhere, my sisters appear like the world’s most efficient PR team. “Let’s take this inside,” Rainey announces to our group, and Maverick, Emmie, and Rosie follow her immediately, but Camden doesn’t move.
I tug on his arm hard enough to get his attention. “Inside. Now.” My voice shakes, completely overwhelmed. “Please.”
For a single heartbeat, he doesn’t move.
Then something flashes in his eyes, and he wraps his arm around me and turns us to follow Rainey to Petal & Vine.
We step into the private kitchen in the family’s wing of the B&B, and the old oak door clicks shut behind us. The noise in the other room quiets, and I take his face in my hands. “You punched Santa,” I say finally because that sentence has to be said aloud to be believed.
The press is going to have a field day with this.
Camden flexes his hand and growls again. “He fucking grabbed you.”
“That doesn’t make it—” I cut myself off. The anger I expect to feel isn’t there. Something else replaces it. That slow wave of aftershock that hits once the adrenaline fades and the feeling of being violated comes flooding back.
“Hey,” Camden whispers, his voice gentle. “Hey now.” He pulls me closer and bends at the knees, bringing us eye to eye. “I’m here. I’ve got you, and I’ll fucking kill him before I let him near you again.”
I nod my head, words impossibly stuck in my throat.
“You okay?” He cradles my face in his hands and tucks me against his chest as my body shakes.
“I’m okay,” I tell him, then correct myself. “I will be once the shock wears off.”
We stand in the low hush of the old room, ignoring the voices coming from the other side of the door. My sister and his are both in that room with Sophie. She’s safe, and so are we. Well, as safe as we’re getting tonight.
I take a deep breath and then another before I look into his eyes. “Sit,” I whisper.
“What?”