Chapter 16
Luke
I don’t come into The Jolly Bean unless I absolutely have to.
Too many peppermint-themed decorations. Too much Mariah Carey on repeat.
Too many twinkle lights. Too many women with over-fluffed scarves and sharp eyes who’ve been watching me since I was in diapers and who believe that if I’d just “open my heart,” I’d find a wife before New Year’s.
And way too many sharp-eyed locals who all have an opinion about my flannel rotation and love life.
But this afternoon, I’m here.
Because Eve likes peppermint mochas. And—dammit—I like Eve.
A dangerous amount.
Hell, I might even love Eve. Not that I’m ready to admit that yet. Not to her and not even to myself.
We’ve spent every night together since the blizzard, with her even bringing Cringle out to my cabin with her.
These past couple of nights have been heaven, curling around her under that quilt while snow blew sideways outside.
It felt like breathing after being held under water for way too long.
Like something in my chest cracked open and finally let the light in.
I’ve spent years layering concrete over that part of myself—ignoring it, burying it, pretending I didn’t still look for her in every Christmas song or glittery red scarf.
But now she’s here. She’s back. And everything I thought I knew about keeping my distance is suddenly unraveling like tinsel in a windstorm.
So yeah. I wanted to buy her a damn coffee. Act casual. Drop it off like it’s no big deal, maybe get a laugh out of her, maybe earn a smile that’s just for me.
Sue me.
But I don’t even make it past the pastry case before trouble finds me.
“Luke,” coos Mrs. Garcia like she’s narrating a love story. I turn toward her voice and she’s right there, standing behind the counter, cheeks flushed and wearing a glitter-covered reindeer sweater that blinks in three different colors.
I nod, politely. “Hey there, Mrs. Garcia.”
“What brings you in here?”
I keep my face as neutral as possible, trying not to squirm. “Just picking up a peppermint mocha.”
“A peppermint mocha, huh?” She leans in, grinning like she already knows the punchline to a joke I haven’t heard yet. “For a certain Christmas elf, perhaps?”
I manage a smile. “Just trying to keep her from turning into a popsicle this afternoon out at the barn.”
Mrs. Garcia leans in, whispering like she’s delivering state secrets. “Well, you’re a lucky man. She earned that peppermint mocha, giving up that big, fancy LA job, huh?”
I freeze, but don’t respond fast enough, which is apparently permission for Mrs. Garcia to continue blabbing as she turns to grind the espresso beans for Eve’s peppermint mocha.
“Such a bold move, giving up her dream job for love. But here in Holly Ridge, we all know she made the right choice.”
The words echo inside me like someone just dropped them into a cavern.
She’s staying. And apparently, she got a job offer.
A good one too, it sounds like. The sort of job she’s worked toward for years. One that she turned down…
For me.
But then… why didn’t she tell me about it?
I’m still chewing that over when the bell above the door jingles and I glance up on instinct.
And immediately wish I hadn’t.
Gemma.
Her glossy hair is tucked into a perfect cream-colored beret. Her red coat fits like it was stitched to her skin. And her eyes land on me like heat-seeking missiles.
Mrs. Garcia, with her back to us, is still rambling on about Eve and the dream job she gave up as Gemma gets into line behind me. “After all this time, all that fighting and leaving her parents to run their inn alone for years and she decides home is here after all.”
Mrs. Garcia sighs and turns to face me, hand outstretched with the finished latte. “Can you believe it? All those years you spent pining after that girl, hating Christmas because of her… and here she is now, giving up a whole dream career… for you.”
She says it like it’s the most romantic thing in the world. But my gut twists.
My chest tightens. I can’t breathe right. Can’t think.
Eve’s always been bright lights and big ideas. She’s the kind of woman who was born for more than this town. More than its gossip and snowbanks and the same ten people asking about her relationship status every weekend.
And if she gives all of that up—for me?
I don’t know whether to be touched or furious that she would turn down a job so important to her.
“She what?” Gemma snorts from behind me.
I grab the drink and step aside, heart thudding so hard it hurts.
I exhale through my nose. “Don’t start, Gemma.”
Her expression shifts—goes oddly serious.
“Just… be careful, Luke,” she says, voice dropping. “Eve’s always been the big-dream girl. Holly Ridge was never supposed to be permanent for her. You know that.”
I bristle. “And yet here she is, moving back to Holly Ridge full time.”
Gemma gives me a look like I’ve just proven her point. “Exactly. You don’t think her giving up her dream job to stay in the exact town she ran away from ten years ago isn’t a little suss?”
I’m about to tell her I’m not in the mood when she adds, “That’s a lot to live up to with a partner.
Every fight you two have, every disagreement you two get into, you’ll always be the guy she gave up her dreams for.
Or worse… she’ll wake up in a few months and realize she gave up everything for a life she only thought she wanted because she was too scared to go for more. ”
My stomach sinks. “I didn’t—”
“I know. But that’s how these things go, Luke.
People make sacrifices thinking love is enough.
Then one day, they look around and wonder why they feel so damn small.
Eve isn’t like you and me. And her life isn't a cheesy holiday movie where she’s going to discover happiness here in her hometown all along.
She was never meant to stay here in Holly Ridge. ”
Her words hit harder than they should.
I hate the idea of Eve ever feeling that way—having regrets. Especially because of me.
As a man who feels his own regrets over the life I’ve fallen into here, the reality of what Gemma is saying to me twists my stomach.
Gemma softens. Just a little. “She’s got a spark. Don’t let this town snuff it out.”
She grabs her latte and disappears out the door with a breezy little wave, leaving me rooted in place with the peppermint mocha cooling in my hands.
Damn it. I want Eve here. I want her to stay in Holly Ridge.
God, I do. I want mornings like today and evenings like last night, tangled under flannel and whispering old regrets into laughter.
I want reindeer disasters and storytime miracles and kissing her like the world might stop spinning if I don’t.
But I don’t want her to stay solely for me. I also know what it’s like to look back on a choice and feel it rot inside you.
What if she wakes up six months from now and resents me for it? What if some magazine spread flashes across her phone screen and she remembers the life she could’ve had? The life I kept her from?
My stomach knots.
What if this is the beginning of our quiet undoing?
She didn’t even tell me about the job offer.
Not one word.
Not after everything we’ve shared. Not after I laid every damn feeling on the line the other night with my heart open and my lips on hers.
She turned down LA and kept it to herself.
Why?
Even though I don’t want her to leave, she’s supposed to chase what sets her on fire. That’s what makes her Eve. That’s what I’ve loved about her since the first time she stormed into my life wearing glittery earmuffs and quoting Bronte.
If she gave that up for me—without even talking to me about it, then we’ve got a bigger problem than snowstorms and runaway reindeer.
I stare down at the coffee like it might offer me an answer; something to hold onto.
It doesn’t.
Just a swirl of whipped cream and crushed peppermint. Sweet and simple.
She thinks she’s doing the right thing. That staying is the answer. That Holly Ridge and me and this messed up little Christmas experiment is worth her whole future.
But love—real love—doesn’t ask you to shrink.
It’s supposed to make you more.
And I’m not sure she sees that yet.
Which means it’s time I stop pretending this is some cozy holiday romance and start asking real questions.
Because if Eve Winters gave up her dream for me...
She damn well better be sure I’m worth it.
The truth is, I’m not even sure I’m worth it.
And I need to know it’s what she truly wants.
Not what she thinks she should want. Not what she feels obligated to do.
The coffee’s still hot in my hands.
But I’m ice inside.
Time to find out the truth.