Chapter 10
LEO
I'm tempted to hide out in the shed all night. Hide until the weather clears and I can get Celeste back to town. It's a smart plan. Wait out the danger, find someone who can help her with the car, and say goodbye. Strategic. It would work.
Except that I don't want it to work. I don't want to drop her off and never see her again. Even if that's what I should do.
I secure the snow machine under cover and make my decision. Staying out here is more likely to draw Celeste's attention. She's tenacious and I wouldn't be surprised if she came out here to make sure I'm all right. And it would be all too clear I'm not.
Steeling my spine, I take a deep breath, leave the shed and pull the door shut securely behind me. I come up with all the things I can say to create distance between us. Because even if she hasn't felt the connection, I have, and it's a path I can't allow myself to walk down.
By the time I make it inside, my mind is made up. We'll warm up, eat something, and then I'll take her to town. Easy. But what Celeste has waiting for me when I open the door erases all my practical thinking.
The fire has the main room warm and cheery.
And tacked above it, on the mantle, are two stockings.
My name is written on one, the other has Celeste's name, and she's even made some kind of braided garland that she's draped over the front.
In the time since I dropped her off, she's decorated for Christmas.
And somehow, hung stockings for me? And for her?
"What the ...?"
"Oh." Celeste appears from the bedroom, her cheeks pink and eyes bright. She bites her lip, then offers me a wide smile. "Surprise!"
I stare at her, but her determined happiness in this moment doesn't waver. And I can't bear to take it away from her.
"How did you do this?" I look around at the cabin, and no place where a secret cache of Christmas decorations could be hidden jumps out at me.
"I know it's not much. And if you'd been out in the shed for a little bit longer, I could've come up with a few more things to really brighten the place up."
I look more closely at the garland she's made and the way she's braided the different pieces together. They're red and green, and it clicks in my brain where I've seen those pieces of fabric before. "Are those from the rag basket in the kitchen cabinet?"
She nods, crossing over to the craft project she created out of almost thin air. "They are. And the socks were in there, too. I know they can be good for polishing stuff. But they looked clean. And I didn't feel bad writing on them since they weren't going to be worn again."
"I can't believe you brought Christmas to my cabin." I chuckle and run my hands through my hair. "I swear you're the only person I know who would even try to do that."
"Like I said, if I'd had more time, I'd have been able to add to it."
I shake my head, because more isn't necessary. "This is good."
Her smile returns, and if she'd had any worries about my reaction, they disappear. "You don't hate it?"
"It's perfect, Celeste." I walk toward her and before I can overthink what I'm doing, reach for her.
She steps into the circle of my arms like it's the most natural thing she's ever done and accepts the hug I'm offering.
She molds to me, her soft curves against my hard planes, and the heat I'd hoped had cooled flares back to life again.
The picture of her bare legs appears in my mind again and it's all too easy to imagine what the rest of her would look like.
She leans back, looking up at me, beautiful eyes beneath long dark lashes making my breath catch.
My restraint fails, and I say exactly what I'm thinking. "You're perfect."
The pink in her cheeks deepens as her smile turns soft. I'm tempted to kiss her when her eyes go wide. "Oh, we can't forget your gift."
She moves back, but I stop her with gentle pressure on the small of her back. At her questioning look, I ask, "How did you manage to get me a gift?"
"You should never ask Santa to reveal how the magic works.
" She gives me a wink, then pushes up onto her toes, planting a quick kiss on my cheek.
It stuns me enough that she slips away before I can stop her.
When I turn to watch her, she's already out of reach, plucking the sock with my name on it off of a nail on the mantel.
She holds it out and when it settles into my open, outstretched palm, I'm surprised by the significant weight hidden inside.
Celeste is bouncing, rocking back and forth with excitement, when I pour the gift out into my other hand.
A Swiss Army Knife lands, the metal warm from the fire, and my thumb rubs instinctively over the side.
The tell tale feeling of an inscription rises up, and I trace it, trying to decipher what it says without looking.
When I can't, I turn it over and read it in the flickering light.
FIND YOUR HAPPINESS
My heart cracks, and it feels like jagged pieces of ice falling away.
The protection I've built up over the course of time is gone, wiped away by a simple gift given to me by a woman I've only just met on a Christmas I fully intended to spend alone.
And I have to wonder if, maybe, the message has already been proven true. Maybe I have found my happiness.
In the exact last place I ever expected.
"Thank you." I manage to get the words out, despite how tight my throat feels. The knife is solid in my hands as I curl my fingers around it. "Thank you, Celeste."
"You like it?" It's the first hint of hesitation I've heard from her, and I want nothing more than to offer the reassurance she needs.
"I love it." I don't hide the emotion in my voice. I don't even try.
That admission stops her constant motion, and she freezes in place. It almost seems like she forgets to breathe.
"I can't think of any time I've had a good Christmas.
There's not one in my life that I remember.
" She opens her mouth as if to stop me, but I need to get the words out so she can understand.
"I was bounced around a lot as a kid. Distant family, sometimes staying with friends, and they'd try to include me, but I always felt on the outside.
Would you believe this is the first time I've ever had a stocking with my name on it?
One with a gift inside that seemed like it was actually meant for me, instead of something grabbed at the gas station last minute?
I'm grateful to every single one of the people who gave me a place for the holidays, but at this point, it's just felt better to be on my own than watch everyone tear into packages that have gifts from people who know and love them. "
I can see the tears in her beautiful eyes and wish I could wipe them away for her. "Then I meet you, and it's only been a couple of hours, and you give me a gift like this. Like you know me. Like you care."
"I do care," she whispers, and the pain in my chest eases a little.
"The last thing my grandmother gave me before she died was a knife like this.
And she told me to be happy. That's it. No big pieces of wisdom to share or an inheritance of any kind.
Just an old knife my grandpa carried around in his pocket.
And somewhere along the way, growing up, moving around, I lost it.
The only gift I'd ever really been given, and I lost it.
Now you turn up and give me that moment back. So, thank you."
"You're welcome." She tucks a strand of long wavy hair behind her ear, and I memorize that gesture. I'll remember it forever. Even if I never see her again.
"What about you?" I ask the question with a grin, and it feels good. To smile with her. "What did Santa give you?"
I go to the fireplace and lift her stocking up, carrying it over to her. It's not as heavy as the one she handed to me, but there's a crinkling sound I hear when she takes it.
She digs her fingers into the sock, and pulls out three packets of hot chocolate mix, and I laugh. "You found my secret."
"I did," she says, grinning at me. "Best hot chocolate I've ever had."
"A good memory, then?" There's no disguising the hope in my voice as I ask.
"The best." She tips her head to the side and examines me. "I think those are the best gifts, you know. The ones that help remind you of something special."
I nod. "Like hot chocolate."
"Not just any hot chocolate, though. Only the best."
Maybe it's the fire, maybe it's this small circle of magic she's created, but whatever it is pulls me forward.
Pushes me to wrap my arms around her and almost kiss her.
She stares up at me, eyes half lidded and I'm frozen, afraid to ask her for what I want.
Just one kiss. A memory to take with me when she's gone.
But I can't.
Then she parts her pretty lips, and whispers.
"Please."