10. Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Devon
G uilt gnawed at me as I remembered bailing on Bella mid-conversation last night. At this rate, I’d win the “Jerk of the Year” award, no contest.
I shuffled into the living room, where Bella was crafting what looked like the world’s most perfect wreath. Her nimble fingers wove greenery and ribbon together, and her face was alight with whatever grand vision she was creating.
“Hey,” I said, my voice coming out raspier than intended. I cleared my throat and tried again. “That looks amazing.”
Bella glanced up. Her expression seemed guarded. “Thanks.”
An awkward silence lingered in the air. Come on, Devon, say something. Anything.
“Listen, about last night...” I drummed my fingers against my leg, searching for the right words. “I shouldn’t have taken that call. I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
She set down her hot glue gun with a sigh. “It’s fine, Devon. Really.”
But I could see in the tightness around her eyes that it wasn’t fine. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling like an idiot.
“Let me make it up to you,” I blurted out before I could change my mind. “We could go sledding. Like old times.”
Bella’s eyebrows shot up, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Sledding? Aren’t we a little old for that?”
I grinned, relieved to see her softening. “Never. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Fine,” Bella said, failing miserably at hiding her smile. “But I’m winning this time. And no taking mysterious phone calls halfway down the hill.”
Ouch. The jab was well deserved, but ouch. “Deal. The last one to grab their coat cooks dinner.”
Bella darted toward the coat rack, and as I watched her, it hit me how much I had missed this. I couldn’t even explain it. She was like a force of nature. I couldn’t stay in my normal funk around her.
I trudged up the hill behind Bella, my breath puffing out in white clouds. The crisp winter air nipped at my cheeks, but I barely felt it. My attention was fixed on Bella’s determined stride, and her fluffy blue beanie that looked a lot like the one I’d given her years ago. Had she kept it all this time?
At the top, she turned to face me, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Ready to eat my snow dust?”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Big talk for someone who hasn’t touched a sled in years.”
Bella patted her bright red sled. “Please. It’s like riding a bike. Watch and learn.”
Before I could retort, she launched herself down the hill, a streak of color against the white landscape. I scrambled onto my sled, my competitive instinct kicking in. I gained speed, closing the gap between us. And at the last minute, I barely beat her.
Bella insisted on the best out of three, so we made our way back up the hill. Bella won the second round, and we raced to the top again.
We pushed off simultaneously, the cold wind whipping at our faces. Just as I was about to overtake her, Bella’s sled hit a hidden bump, sending her spinning. I watched in amused horror as she tumbled off, disappearing into a fluffy pile of snow.
“Bella!” I called out, trying to stifle my laughter as I trudged over to her. “You okay?”
She popped up like a jack-in-the-box, her hair dusted with snowflakes, cheeks flushed pink from the cold and exertion. “I think I won,” she declared, grinning triumphantly at me.
I quirked an eyebrow. “Oh really? And how do you figure that?”
“Well,” she said, brushing snow from her shoulders with an exaggerated air of dignity, “I clearly made the most dramatic finish. Style points count, Devon.”
I couldn’t hold back my laughter any longer. “Whatever you say. Come on, let’s get you up before you freeze.”
As we made our way back to the guesthouse, the sound of an engine broke through our laughter. I glanced up to see Mayor Todd’s truck pulling into the driveway. “Oh boy,” I muttered under my breath. “Looks like we’ve got company.”
Bella followed my gaze, her eyes widening slightly. “Is that—“
Before she could finish, Mayor Todd hopped out of his truck, his arms loaded with a basket of treats and an assortment of gaudy holiday decorations.
“Afternoon, you two!” he called out, waving enthusiastically. “Thought I’d drop by and see how the guesthouse transformation is progressing.”
Bella’s cheerful expression never faded, but I could tell from the tension in her shoulders that she felt nervous. “Mayor,” she said, her voice overly bright. “What a... surprise.”
The mayor’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Oh, I bet it is! Almost as surprising as those festival photos of your romantic reunion, eh?”
I felt my jaw clench, trying to quash the unease creeping back into my chest. Of course, he’d seen those ridiculous photos. He probably had them framed in his office by now.
Bella didn’t miss a beat. “You know how the media loves to exaggerate, Mayor. Why don’t you come inside? I was just about to make some hot cocoa, and I think we have some cookies left.”
As we headed inside, I caught Bella’s eye. She gave me a small, apologetic smile that seemed to say, “Sorry, it was the only way to change the subject.”
I watched the mayor follow her inside, laden with his festive cargo. I wished that I could just not follow, but I couldn’t not join them when it was my house.
The mayor jumped right into talking about the decorations, pointing out the tree, and asking Bella about her plans. Bella heated milk for the hot cocoa and put some cookies on a plate while answering the mayor’s questions.
“And what about you, Devon? Are you thinking about reopening the guesthouse as a bed and breakfast or getting back into skiing?”
The question caught me off guard. My mind raced, torn between the truth and an easy lie. “Still figuring that out,” I muttered, feeling Bella’s curious gaze on me. She was probably wondering the same thing.
The mayor raised his eyebrows, clearly unsatisfied with my non-answer. “Well, don’t keep us in suspense too long, Devon. Serenity Falls could use a little Montgomery magic again.”
I forced a smile, desperately wishing for this conversation to end. Bella, sensing my discomfort, swooped in with a plate of cookies. “Mayor, you simply must try these. It’s my grandmother’s secret recipe.”
Thank God for Bella’s ability to redirect. As the mayor bit into a cookie, his eyes lit up, momentarily distracted from his interrogation. “My word, these are delightful!”
As he returned to chatting with Bella about her latest design ideas, I found myself retreating inward, the mayor’s words echoing in my head. Montgomery magic. Right. Because I was clearly overflowing with charm and Christmas spirit. I’m not sure my parents rubbed any of that off on me.
When the mayor finally left, Bella returned to the kitchen, humming softly as she unpacked his gift basket. As if we needed any more cookies. Bella had already baked enough to feed an army. Baking had always been her go-to when she felt nervous.
“I’m going to head to the attic for a bit,” I said, already moving towards the stairs. I felt a sudden need to escape.
“Oh, okay,” Bella replied, a hint of disappointment in her voice that made my stomach twist. “Don’t forget we need to finish the living room later!”
I nodded absently, taking the stairs two at a time. In the quiet of the attic, I found the half-finished Santa sleigh and grabbed my sanding tools, desperate for something to occupy my hands and quiet my mind.
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out to see a text from Liam:
Let me know what you want to do. The buyer’s interested.
I sighed, running a hand over my face. What did I want? A week ago, I thought I knew. Now...
I picked up the sandpaper, hoping the repetitive motion would clear my head. As I worked, my mind raced. The guesthouse, my career, Bella... everything was a tangled mess.
The truth was, I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. And that terrified me.
I stared at Liam’s text for what felt like an eternity, my thumb hovering over the screen. Finally, I typed out a response: Tell your friend to hold off. I’m not ready to make a decision.
The phone rang almost instantly. Liam’s name flashed on the screen.
I answered, bracing myself. “Hey, man.”
“What’s going on, Devon?” Liam’s voice crackled through the speaker. “You’ve wanted to sell this place for over a year. What’s stopping you now?”
I hesitated, my eyes scanning the dusty attic. The half-finished sleigh. The box of old Christmas ornaments. Memories of holidays past, of laughter and warmth. Of Bella.
“I don’t know, Liam. Just... hold off, okay? I need to think.”
There was a pause on the other end, long enough that I wondered if the call had dropped. “You want to talk about it?” he finally asked, his voice softer.
“Not right now,” I muttered, ending the call and tossing the phone aside.
It clattered against the wooden floorboards, the sound echoing in the quiet space. I stared at it for a long moment, half expecting it to ring again. When it didn’t, I turned back to the sleigh, determined to lose myself in the monotony of sanding.
Time slipped by, measured only by the steady rasp of sandpaper against wood. Eventually, the ache in my shoulders and the rumbling in my stomach forced me to acknowledge the world beyond the attic.
I made my way downstairs, the scent of woodsmoke hitting me before I even reached the bottom step. Rounding the corner into the living room, I found Bella crouched by the fireplace, coaxing a small flame to life.
She glanced up at my approach, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You hungry?” she asked, holding up a package of hot dogs.
My stomach answered before I could, letting out an embarrassingly loud growl. Heat crept up my neck, but Bella just laughed, the sound warming me more than any fire could.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, tossing me a roasting stick.
I grabbed the stick and a hot dog and settled in front of the fireplace. As I watched Bella carefully rotate her hot dog over the fire, I felt something inside me start to unwind.
“So,” I said, fixing my hot dog on the stick as I sat down next to Bella. “Indoor campfire, huh?”
Bella shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Well, someone promised me s’mores after dinner. I’m just making sure they deliver.”
I practically wolfed down the hot dog. I guess I was hungrier than I realized. While Bella finished hers, I grabbed the graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows for s’mores. The gooey marshmallow stretched between my fingers as I sandwiched it between graham crackers and chocolate.
Bella cleared her throat, setting down her half-eaten s’more. “I appreciate your honesty last night, and I hate to bring this up,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need to ask you something.”
My stomach clenched. What could she possibly want to know that had her looking so apprehensive? I nodded, bracing myself.
Bella hesitated, her eyes searching mine. Finally, she took a deep breath and asked, “Do you blame me for what happened? The Olympics... your parents?”
“For a while... yeah, I did,” I admitted, my voice low and rough. The words tasted bitter on my tongue. “I was angry. At you. At everything.” I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of years of resentment and regret. “Then I blamed myself.”
I forced myself to look at Bella. I could see the hurt and confusion swirling in her eyes.
“But being here with you... I realize how stupid that was. I regret it, Bella. I wish I’d seen things differently back then.”
Bella’s eyes softened, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. She leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “Devon, I—“
Before she could finish, I found myself closing the distance between us. Without thinking, I pressed a light kiss to her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm, and I knew I had to stop myself before my lips found hers.
Bella blinked in surprise, her hand coming up to touch the spot where my lips had been. A faint blush crept across her freckled cheeks, and for a moment, I was transported back to our teenage years, stealing kisses behind the ski lodge.
We stared at each other, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. “So,” Bella said, breaking the silence. “Does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?” Her tone was light, but I could hear the underlying vulnerability.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Bella, I never hated you. I was just... lost.” I paused, gathering my thoughts, but before I could speak again, Maple was there, her tail wagging furiously as she lunged for the bag of marshmallows on the coffee table.
“Maple, no!” Bella cried, lunging forward to snatch the bag away. But she was a moment too late. Maple had already sunk her teeth into the plastic and pulled, sending a shower of fluffy white marshmallows cascading onto the rug.
I couldn’t help it—I burst out laughing. It wasn’t a normal laugh. It was like all the tension built up in me, released in uncontrollable laughter.
“Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” Bella mock-glared at me, grabbed a marshmallow and tossed it at my head.
“Hey, I’m not the one whose dog seriously needs obedience classes,” I retorted, reaching down to scratch behind Maple’s ears. The golden retriever looked up at me with what I swore was a grin, her muzzle covered in sticky marshmallow residue.
My mind raced with questions as we worked together to clean up the mess, stealing glances at each other and trying to keep Maple from eating any more of her ill-gotten gains. What were we doing? Where was this headed? Was I ready for this?
But I realized something as I watched Bella laugh, her hair falling in her face as she wrestled a marshmallow away from Maple. I wasn’t thinking about my failures or uncertain future for the first time in years. I was just... here. Present. And maybe that was enough for now.