Chapter 7
SEVEN
At seven that night, Pete stomped the snow off his boots and took a big breath before reaching for the handle of Hailey’s café door. It was unlocked, even though the sign on the window read Closed, and sure enough there wasn’t a customer to be found.
Or Hailey.
He grinned at the sight of his tree in the back corner, draped with a string of flickering lights and a few ornaments. Given her reaction to it this morning, he’d half wondered if she’d stick it in the back room or out in the alley.
It was what Pete’s mother would call a “homemade” tree: her favorite kind. It wasn’t anything fancy, and none of the ornaments matched. The tree sat a little crooked in the stand, not that he’d dare to straighten it. He liked it that way.
It was imperfectly perfect. Just like Hailey.
He walked closer to admire the decorations when he saw the little sign she’d propped up near its base. “Compliments of Cameron’s Tree Lot.”
So, the ice was thawing. An eye for eye, in the friendliest of ways. He’d take it.
“Please tell me I haven’t killed it yet.”
Hailey’s voice was laced with amusement as Pete turned to face her, all thoughts of the tree vanishing when he took in her red sweater and tight jeans tucked into knee-high boots.
He had a sudden desire to change plans. To offer a night in instead. There was a time when he liked nothing more than a quiet evening and Hailey all to himself. Her sitting on the floor at his side, sharing a pizza, shoulder to shoulder, laughing into his ear, her hair tickling his cheek—
He stopped himself. No good would come from thinking like that. Now, like then, they were different people. She was settled here, loving her city lifestyle, and nothing she could show him tonight would change his mind about giving up the farm.
Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. Now, like then, he was bound.
By family. By duty.
And for that reason, he probably should never have suggested this city tour. He should go back to the lot, help Mike sell some trees until they closed in an hour, then hunker down in the trailer, crunch some numbers, and see where things stood with the other lots. He frowned.
“Oh no.” Hailey shook her head. “I’ve killed it already, haven’t I? You know I’ve never been good with plants. I should stick with artificial.”
“Don’t you dare,” he shot back before he could stop himself. “Those damn plastic trees are the reason things are as bad as they are.”
He gave an inward curse as the amusement vanished from her face. He’d said more than he’d meant to.
She looked at him sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?” When he didn’t answer, she asked, cautiously, “Is the farm in trouble?”
Trouble. More like jeopardy.
He recovered with a smooth smile. “Only if everyone starts hearing about the benefits of artificial.” He held a finger to his lips. “Shh…”
She laughed, and he was glad the moment had passed. He didn’t want to taint the evening with negative thoughts or regret. He wanted to enjoy the moment; he might not get another one.
The thought saddened him.
“So, where are you taking me?” he asked, perking himself up. He let his gaze linger on her lips, painted a cherry red that fit the season, and brought out the creaminess of her complexion and the pink of her cheeks.
She gave him a knowing smile and flicked off the light switch. The overhead lighting fell dark, and the tree lights twinkled a little brighter.
“Magical, isn’t it?” No matter how long the days could get, at Christmas, he was always reminded of why he did what he did. Why he’d stuck with it, even when he’d wanted to quit .
There was something about seeing something that he’d grown, in someone’s house or shop corner, decorated to their personal taste, with ornaments that represented a special time or memory, that gave him a purpose.
And some days, he really needed one.
He might not be helping people through medicine as planned, but he liked to think that at least once a year, he was bettering their lives.
Hailey looked at the tree and gave a dismissive shrug. “I suppose.”
“Hey, where’s the Christmas spirit?” he bantered, but the look in her eyes told him what he already knew. What he feared, perhaps. That even now, after all this time, she still felt the same sense of loss he did around this time of year, reminded of their breakup, of how they didn’t just miss out on all their Christmas plans that year, but all their life plans, too.
At least he did. Looking around the charming shop, right here in the middle of a popular neighborhood of Chicago, confirmed that Hailey had stuck to the plans they’d made—without him.
And that…well, that was too much to think about right now. Because like it or not, nothing had changed. Not his family duty. Not his responsibility to the farm. Not his feelings for the girl standing right before him.
“You seem to still have it,” she remarked. “Your Christmas spirit.”
He supposed a part of him did if only because it was what kept him going half the time. He could hand over a tree come December, see the joy on the customer’s face, and know that it was going to fill their home—and maybe even their life—with a little joy.
And who didn’t need that?
He sure did. Especially this year.
“It’s why I do what I do,” he said simply.
It was the wrong thing to say, perhaps. A reminder of the choice he’d made. He noticed the way her jaw had tensed, and her eyes had gone a little flat.
“Well, no sense standing around,” she finally said.
No sense indeed. One foot in front of the other, he told himself. It was the only way.
Hailey didn’t know why she was bothering with this city tour, or why she was choosing to make the most of all the festive events Chicago had to show this time of year. Maybe it was to defend her choice, to show him why she needed to be here, in this city, filled by its energy, or maybe it was because she wanted him to feel it too, the excitement, the lights.
Even the romance.
She shook away that thought as Pete collected their mulled wines from one of the many temporary stands that had been set up for Lincoln Park Zoo’s annual light festival. It was the first stop on their itinerary for the evening, and if she were smart, she’d cut things short and end it quickly.
She eagerly took the cup from his hand when he handed it to her, careful not to make eye contact as she brought it to her lips. It tasted like cloves and spices and warm, sweet berries.
“Christmas in a cup,” she said, losing herself in the moment. Catching him looking at her, she said, “Something my grandmother always said when I was little.”
“Not about wine, I’m guessing,” Pete replied with a grin.
“No.” Hailey smiled at the memory. “About her hot chocolate.”
“Ah, the secret recipe,” Pete said as they walked through the crowds. “You know we sold out yesterday and today. I have a check for you.”
Her pulse skipped a beat, and she had to restrain herself from showing how excited this made her. Sure, it wasn’t much, but it just added to what she was bringing in at the café. And maybe, it would bring in new customers, too.
“I hope you took a cut,” she told him, focusing on the business end of things.
“We never agreed to that,” he replied. “Besides, that wouldn’t be right. You made the chocolate, you should get the profits.”
“But what do you get out of it?” she asked, immediately wishing she hadn’t when she saw the way he stopped to look at her, his eyes dark and intense. “I mean,” she said quickly, “if the customer doesn’t buy a tree?”
“If it helps bring people to the lot and keeps them browsing, then they might return once they’re ready to buy. But I did see an uptick in sales, and I have a feeling I have you to thank for it.”
“More like Gran’s recipe,” Hailey corrected, refusing to take any credit for what wasn’t rightfully hers. Even the café felt like it was half her grandmother’s most days, though exclusively her responsibility.
And look what she’d done with it.
They kept walking, sipping their drinks, dodging excited children, stopping to admire the colorful lights and the bigger, city skyline lights that were a backdrop at the far end of Lincoln Park.
She didn’t know what to talk about with him, or how to keep the conversation going. The realization that they didn’t just fall into step anymore was a depressing confirmation that tonight had probably been a mistake.
Scratch that. Tonight was a mistake. No doubt about it.
They were getting along. Digging up feelings better left long buried.
It would just make it harder to say goodbye.
And harder to look back.
What if…How many times had she asked herself that question until she’d forced herself to stop?
How many times would she ask it now?
She glanced up at him, every nerve ending standing on high alert at the intensity of his deep-set gaze. “So, how many trees did the hot chocolate help you to sell?” she asked, turning back to business—the entire reason why they were here tonight, or at least, that was their excuse .
She was starting to wonder if their little selling arrangement was too.
Pete looked amused. “Are you looking for a cut of my profits now?”
“Hey, a commission fee might only be fair.” She gave a little smile. “But I’m glad people are buying it. If only more people would buy from the café…”
Pete frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hailey sighed heavily as she thrust her free hand into her pocket. The temperature had dropped since they’d walked over to the zoo, and even the steaming drink and knee-length down parka were doing little to warm her all the way through. She began walking toward the exit gate, deciding she had time to plan whether or not they bothered with that carriage ride through the park and snow-covered Gold Coast, where the lights and decorations on Michigan Avenue would be especially magical.
It was time to face it: Despite her efforts, Christmas hadn’t been magical in more than eight years. It was a reminder of what she’d had and lost.
This year especially.
“Things have been a bit slow at the café,” she admitted, not daring to meet his eye. “I’m sure you noticed the big chain on the other corner. It opened a couple of months ago. Guess you could say I’m not used to the competition.”
She tried to keep her tone light, but it was no use. Her eyes started to sting, and not from the wind that was blowing steadily off nearby Lake Michigan.
Pete gave a low whistle under his breath. “It would be tough to compete with a large corporation. But your shop is different. Surely you don’t pull in the same customers?”
More like she hardly pulled in any customers at all.
Hailey shrugged. “Coffee is coffee.”
“Why not serve something different then?”
Hailey stopped walking and looked up at him quizzically. “Stop serving coffee? Need I remind you that I run a café?”
“But wasn’t your dream to open a bakery?” he pointed out.
Hailey froze. “Well, yes, but I felt a café would do better in the neighborhood and encourage people to pop in daily, not just for a special order or occasion. And I can’t exactly stop offering drinks. Even my store name—”
“So change it.” Pete looked unfazed, and Hailey felt her temper stir.
He didn’t get it. Even now, after all these years, he couldn’t understand how much this business meant to her.
“It’s not that simple,” she said, her frustration mounting. She took another sip of her mulled wine, but she barely tasted it this time. Change the name of her café! As if! She’d spent weeks coming up with the perfect logo and paid a small fortune for that custom signage, too. To change it now would be like renaming a child…
Not that she would know, seeing as she’d chosen the café over the whole husband and kids thing…
She drained the last of the mulled wine. Right. She hadn’t sacrificed all that she had just to call it quits now. On the café. On its name. On any of it. She’d find a way. So help her…she would.
“Hey.” Pete’s voice was smooth, husky, and sinfully deep. He nudged her playfully with his elbow, and she kept her chin lifted, her eyes trained on the snowy path ahead, but damn it, a smile tugged at her mouth. “There’s a smile. Hey.” His voice was more serious this time, and he stopped walking to stare at her until she was forced to turn and face him.
She sighed heavily as she looked up, but all the breath stopped in her lungs when she saw the softness in his gaze. He set a hand on her shoulder. She’d forgotten the weight of it. Missed it, even though she hadn’t thought she could anymore.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. Honestly.” She could tell by his expression that he meant it. “Your Gran believed in you. If you thought it made more sense to open a café instead of a bakery, then who am I to question that?”
She broke his stare and focused on the tips of her leather boots instead. A silly, vain choice for this evening. She’d have been so much toastier in her fleece-lined snow boots. But instead, she’d had to try to impress him. Or make him regret the choice he’d made.
But the only one with any regrets, it seemed now, was her.
“I guess a part of me wondered if you’d be happy to see that things weren’t as wonderful for me as I had hoped they would be,” she told him.
When she dared to look up at him again, there was a hurt in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since that terrible night. A night just like this, with snow falling and lights twinkling, with carols playing and everyone merry and bright. Except them.
“All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Hailey. I was just disappointed you didn’t think you could be with me.” It was his turn to look away now.
“It wasn’t like that,” she insisted, alarmed that this was what he thought, what he’d taken away from that night. “You knew what I wanted. It wasn’t just what I dreamed but what I promised my grandmother. She’d tell me so many stories about growing up here while we baked, and she knew that I wanted to fulfill that life she’d never gotten to live. That’s why she left me the money, Pete. I couldn’t make any of that happen in Wisconsin. You left me with an impossible decision. What choice did I have?”
He stared at her for a long time until he finally shook his head. “Let’s not ruin our night by talking about the past. Before long, you’ll be back behind the counter serving your hot chocolate, and I’ll be on a tree farm, dreaming of its taste. Dreaming of a lot of things.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze, and she turned sharply toward the road, where a horse-drawn carriage was stopped just outside the tall, iron gate.
“Hurry!” she said, getting caught up in the moment, in the possibility of missing out on another fleeting opportunity, however small or inconsequential. “Let’s get it before someone else does! ”
She grabbed his hand, laughing as they slipped and slid along the snowy path toward the road that ran through the park, running until her lungs burned and she was panting for breath. She ran like her life depended on it, or maybe the night did. That it was something they could salvage, something they could still share.
Something that reminded her of the magic of this city.
Maybe even in the magic of Christmas.
“I didn’t think we’d make it!” Hailey was breathless by the time they were settled on the bench and the horse had started to trot. She was grinning with satisfaction, reveling in the feeling that came with at least one thing going right.
“Since when are you one to ever give up on something?” Pete asked, spreading the wool blanket onto their laps.
They were sitting close. Thigh to thigh. She could feel the heat of his body close to hers, the woodsy smell of the same cologne he’d worn in college. It felt so right.
And it felt so wrong.
She swallowed hard, looking up into his eyes, knowing the exact moment she’d given up on something. And someone.
She should have fought for them. Tried for something. Or maybe even reconsidered her path. Instead, she’d been stubborn.
“Can I ask you a question?” she said. When he nodded, she struggled to find the courage to continue. “Did you…ever th ink of me?”
His jaw pulsed and he turned to fix his stare on the skyline up ahead, lit up against the dark, starless sky. “Every damn day.”
Hailey’s heart sank.
Every day. She wasn’t sure which was worse: thinking that all this time he hadn’t thought of her or knowing that he had. That he’d cared.
“But why didn’t you ever reach out?” she asked.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you think that would have made things any easier? You’d made your decision. I’d made mine. Seemed easier at the time to just accept that and to…move on.” He looked out onto the road in front of them as the carriage driver rounded a bend, taking them deeper into the park.
Move on. Had he found love again? A deeper connection? It had been years; it was possible.
Even if it hadn’t happened for her.
But then, she hadn’t gone looking for it. She’d made the café her love. Her entire life.
“I suppose that makes sense.” She gave a sad smile. “I suppose a part of me just thought…”
He turned to her, hesitating a beat for he spoke. “It doesn’t mean I stopped loving you that night.”
Her heart was hammering in her chest. But when had he stopped? Or did he still…love her?
Because a part of her loved him. Always had. Always would.
“We didn’t leave things on good terms last time. But we can change that now, Hailey. Let’s enjoy this moment. This holiday,” Pete said before she could respond—or say something she shouldn’t. Or maybe something she should have said a long time ago. “We didn’t get to spend that last Christmas together. But we have this one.”
And it was all they ever could have, Hailey thought, knowing that he was thinking it too.
She shivered, and he draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Her pulse sped up as she looked up into his eyes just as his gaze dropped to her mouth, and she inhaled sharply, wondering if he’d kiss her, and if she wanted him to. If she’d ever be able to stop again—if she let him.
The horse whinnied, jarring her from his hold on her, and she shifted in her seat just as they were turning out of the park and onto Michigan Avenue where lights lit their path. It was snowing again, small flakes swirling and sparkling in the glistening lights that were wrapped around every tree branch, and Hailey glanced at Pete out of the corner of her eye as she pulled her scarf higher to hide her smile.
Maybe this Christmas was just a little bit magical after all.