Chapter 7
A fter my unexpectedly eventful morning, I took a quick shower and rushed to the inn. It’s past noon and I’m in the events room starting to set up decorations for the wedding. We don’t have any other events until then, so it gives me plenty of time to make sure every detail is in order.
My phone buzzes, the sound echoing throughout the mostly empty room.
Fallon: Girl! I just looked up Brooks Claus. He’s hot AF!
Fallon: Is he as good of a kisser as you remember? He definitely looks like it.
Lila: OMG! I told you nothing happened. He’s only staying with me because the inn is fully booked.
She called an hour ago to check in, and I looped her in on the Brooks’ situation.
Fallon: You’ve had a crush on this man since you were a teenager. This is your chance to act on it.
Lila: Oh sure, because going after my brother’s best friend sounds like a great plan.
Fallon: Life is short. What’s worse, risking it or regretting you never took the chance later?
Lila: Don’t you have a hockey stick to bedazzle?
Fallon: I couldn’t decide between red rhinestones or silver glitter.
Fallon: I think I’ll use both.
Lila: Am I going to have to fly out there and intervene when Harrison gets back?
Fallon: I can handle him on my own, thank you very much.
Lila: You’re not the one I’m worried about.
Fallon: Ha. Ha. Very funny.
Lila: I’m going to finish decorating, but we’ll chat later, okay?
Fallon: You can count on it.
I put my phone on a nearby chair and grab a strand of garland and the mistletoe I want to hang above the archway.
Before I can get back to work, Brooks strides into the event hall like he owns the place, dressed in dark wash jeans and a white button-down shirt. He’s the epitome of sex appeal, and I swear he somehow gets more attractive every time I see him, although I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed that he’s fully dressed.
Curiosity gets the better of me when he crouches down beside Winston, who’s sulking near the doorway. Kay had to run some errands, and my parents stopped by Dad’s office, so Winston has been stuck with me while I worked. Given his theatrical response, you’d think he was being punished.
Brooks extends his hand toward Winston, holding a slice of ham in his palm. “I got you a treat from the kitchen, buddy. After your jailbreak this morning, I figured a truce might be in order.”
Winston barely sniffs the ham before nudging the offending meat away with his nose. I should tell Brooks that chicken, peanut butter biscuits, or whipped cream are the only ways to win Winston over, but I keep quiet, thoroughly enjoying the sight of my finicky dog giving him a run for his money.
“Seriously?” Brooks groans. “It’s freshly sliced ham. What’s the problem?” He gives it another shot, but Winston rests his paw on Brooks’ hand and pushes him away before sitting back on his haunches, giving Brooks the side eye.
With a defeated sigh, Brooks tosses the ham into the trash can. “Alright, I get it; you’re a food connoisseur. There’s no need to be such a snob about it,” he grumbles.
Winston glances over at me with a look that says, “How much longer do I have to put up with this guy?”
Something tells me he wouldn’t be happy if he knew I’ve been hoping Brooks might stick around longer.
I put my hand on my hip in mock irritation, shooting Brooks a playful glare. “Did you just call my dog a snob?”
Brooks points to Winston. “He started it,” he argues. “I suggested a truce, but he wasn’t having it.”
I raise a brow. “He’s a dog.”
“Oh, come on. He knows exactly what he’s doing,” Brooks adds. He narrows his eyes at Winston, who tilts his head toward me, wagging his tail, feigning ignorance.
“I’m going to let the two of you sort this out,” I say with a chuckle.
I go back to winding garland across one side of the archway I’m decorating, making sure each loop falls evenly, creating a cascading effect that will frame the space perfectly. I’ve learned from years of experience that perfection is in the details, and I’ll never settle for less.
Maybe that’s why I’m still single. My standards for a partner are high, and I’m in the habit of ending things after a few dates when there’s no spark, no matter how much I wish there was.
Having worked with countless couples, I’ve developed an instinct for predicting who will last and who won’t. For every couple who navigates life together, there’s another who’s barely hanging on, caught in a cycle of misunderstandings and disappointments.
I’m waiting for someone who wants to create a life together, strive toward our shared dreams, and looks at me like I’m his entire universe.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m a firm believer in happily ever after. Not in the way most people think of them, complete with glass slippers and fairy godmothers, but in the idea that love can be transformative. I’ve witnessed firsthand that once people find their other half, their entire world shifts. It’s why I fell in love with wedding planning. Sure, I enjoy organizing all types of events, but there’s something special about being part of a couple’s big day.
My favorite moment of any wedding is when the groom catches his first glimpse of the bride walking down the aisle. In that instant, everything around him disappears, and all that matters is the woman he’ll vow to love and cherish forever.
Weddings are all about the little details, I remind myself while staring up at the archway. I realize even with a step stool, I can’t quite reach the center to secure the mistletoe. Undeterred, I stretch up on my tiptoes, teetering on the stool as my fingers barely skim the edge of the archway.
“Dammit, Lila. What the hell are you doing?” Brooks exclaims with alarm. “You’re going to get hurt.”
He steps toward me despite me waving him off. “I’m fine. I do this all the time,” I say
To be fair, I usually have a ladder when I’m decorating the event hall, but the crew from Snowy Mountain Stables borrowed it last month and haven’t returned it. So I’m left improvising with a rickety step stool I found in the maintenance closet, which wouldn’t be an issue if I were taller.
With determination, I sweep my hair away from my face, set on doing this on my own. “Come on, just a little higher,” I mutter as I lean forward. “Almost there,” I breathe as I close the final distance. Once I’ve secured the mistletoe, I smile in triumph, but it’s short-lived when the stool shifts beneath me, and my stomach drops as I fight to regain my balance to no avail. A gasp escapes my lips, and I close my eyes, bracing myself for the inevitable fall.
Instead of hitting the ground, I’m scooped into strong arms and pulled into a solid chest. “I’ve got you,” Brooks says, his voice calm and steady.
My hands cling to his shoulders as he exhales slowly. He strides to the closet chair, taking a seat with me still in his lap. He briefly closes his eyes, his chest rising and falling against mine, and I’m hyper-aware of the warmth radiating from him and the way my body seems to fit perfectly against his.
“Thank you for saving me,” I say softly.
“You need to be more careful,” he snaps.
“Someone’s back to being grumpy,” I sass back.
“You call it grumpy; I call it concern,” he grumbles, letting out a deep breath. “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” he says as he brushes back a piece of my hair and tucks it behind my ear.
My heart is racing for an entirely different reason now. My mind is reeling from the fact that Brooks Claus has me in his arms, and I admit I don’t want him to let me go.
“The mistletoe looks good, doesn’t it?” My voice comes out breathy and uneven.
“Yes, it looks nice. But let’s not make a habit of you falling for decorations, okay?” His eyes search mine, his grip on my waist firm as if he’s afraid to let me go. “You’re far more important than some mistletoe.” My pulse quickens when he flashes me a crooked smile.
He keeps this carefree version of himself under lock and key, and it’s impossible to ignore how much it means that he’s showing it to me.
I can’t control my fleeting thoughts of what it might be like to kiss him under the mistletoe. Visions of him gazing at me with those chocolate brown eyes as he traces my jawline torment me, wishing it were real.
“Lila, can you remind me what time the sleigh ride—”
I whip my head around to see Kay standing in the doorway, a broad smile lighting up her face. “Am I interrupting?”
Oh my gosh.
I scramble out of Brooks’ lap, smoothing my shirt in a futile attempt to hide that I’m flustered. It feels like we’re middle schoolers getting caught alone with our crush for the first time. Based on Kay’s gaze lingering on us, she’s not the least bit bothered by the fact that she just caught me sitting in her grandson’s lap.
Brooks clears his throat as he stands up. “Grandma, what are you doing here?”
She raises a brow, hands on her hips. “Last I checked, this is my inn. Did I miss the memo where I need your permission to walk around freely?” she asks, her tone teasing.
He shakes his head. “No, of course not. You just said you’d be gone for a few hours.”
“I finished early and thought I’d see if Lila needed some help, but it looks like you have it covered,” she smirks. “Sorry to interrupt. I’ll be at the front desk if you need me.” She heads down the hall without a second glance, Winston trailing after her.
Brooks walks over to the pile of garland waiting to be strung and picks up a handful.
“What are you doing?”
“There’s no way I’m letting you hang anything else and risk falling again. Now, are you going to direct me or risk me doing it wrong?” he dares, grabbing the step stool and carrying it underneath the wooden beam on the far side of the room.
For the next few hours, it’s just me and Brooks surrounded by the lights and garland as we decorate. We talk and laugh, the conversation flowing naturally. There’s something so easy about being with him, and having him here feels like home in a way I can’t explain.
The sun is low in the sky as our group gathers outside, bundled in our warmest coats and scarves. The air is filled with laughter as everyone chats amongst themselves. I have my binder open to the guest list, making sure everyone who signed up for the sleigh ride is here. Since Andrew and Hannah’s wedding party is small, I was able to extend an invitation to the guests who wanted to participate.
The Snowy Mountain Stables are a short walk from the inn, making it an ideal activity for any time of year. Although for me, nothing compares to the magic of a sleigh ride over Mistletoe Ridge in the winter.
I’m halfway through reviewing the list when movement at the front entrance of the inn catches my attention.
I glance up just in time to watch Brooks step outside.
After we finished decorating the events room, he went back to my cottage to get ready while I finished prep for the activity tonight.
He must have taken a shower because he’s clean-shaven, and his hair neatly styled aside from a strand falling loose near his temple. He’s wearing a gray wool coat layered over a cable-knit sweater, dark jeans, and boots. He exudes an air of confidence that captivates everyone around him, including a group of women waiting for the sleigh ride, who are transfixed by him as if he’s the ultimate catch.
A knot of jealousy tightens in my stomach when one of them waves at Brooks, flashing him a smile when he looks in her direction. He walks past them, unaffected by their stares, his focus already shifted elsewhere.
Sharing a bed for one night doesn’t make him mine, so why does the mere idea of him being with someone else make my blood run hot? His lack of interest in her advances is the one bright spot, making me think there’s a chance for more between us.
The clip-clop of hooves echoing in the distance breaks through my thoughts, and seconds later, several horse-drawn sleighs come around the corner. Each sleigh is painted black, decorated with garland and a red bow, and features three wide benches lined with plush seats and plaid blankets to keep everyone warm.
Hannah claps her hands together as they pull up to the inn. “Oh, Lila, you’ve truly outdone yourself,” she exclaims. “This is amazing.”
“Yeah, sis, this is incredible.” Andrew wraps an arm around me in a side hug. “Thanks for doing this.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
I mean it. This is why I love being a wedding planner—creating unforgettable moments for my clients. This time, it’s extra special being able to do something for the people I love. In years past, Andrew and Hannah scheduled a sleigh ride when they were town, so I wanted to make sure this was part of their wedding experience.
Michael, the driver of the first sleigh, gives me a wave. “We’re ready when you are, Lila.”
I wave back with a smile. “Perfect, thanks.” I turn around to face the group. “Alright, time to climb aboard, everybody,” I say, gesturing toward the sleighs. “There are enough blankets for everyone, and when you get back, there will be refreshments waiting for you in the lobby. Have fun.”
As my dad, Aunt Tilly, and Uncle Ted file into the closest sleigh, my mom stops next to me and places a hand on my arm. “Are you coming, Lila?”
“If there’s enough room. I just want to make sure everyone else has a seat first.”
She gives me a pat on the cheek. “Alright. You work so hard, and I want to make sure you enjoy yourself too.”
I give her a reassuring smile. “I will, don’t worry.”
She nods, satisfied with my answer, and climbs in next to my dad. That’s when I notice Andrew and Hannah have already settled in the sleigh ahead of the one my parents are in.
“Andrew, wait,” I shout to get his attention.
He spins around in his seat. “What is it?”
“I arranged for you and Hannah to have your own private ride. It’s right over there.” I gesture to a two-seater sleigh that’s just pulling up behind the others.
He flashes me a grin as the one he’s in starts gliding forward. “Looks like we’re along for the ride in this one. I’m sure there’s another couple who would love a romantic experience. See you when we get back.” After a quick wave, he faces forward, wrapping his arm around Hannah as she rests her head on his shoulder.
As I look around, I realize everyone else has already boarded.
“Well shoot,” I mutter as I close my planner.
“What’s the matter?” Brooks’ low voice catches me off guard as he pushes off the wall where he’d been leaning.
“You’re still here? I figured you’d already gotten on with everyone else. Let me guess, sleigh rides aren’t your thing?” I taunt him.
He gives an amused chuckle. “Actually, I wanted to make sure I stuck around in case you needed help with anything.”
“Oh.”
He stayed behind for me?
It’s the last thing I expected, but I have to admit, it’s unexpectedly sweet of him.
“What are you two still standing around for?” Kay interjects, stepping outside with Winston on her heels.
“I was making sure no one got left behind,” I answer lamely.
“You did your job perfectly.” She waves around to the empty parking lot. “It looks like there’s one sleigh left, so you and Brooks should get a move on.” She comes over, takes the binder from me, and tucks it under her arm.
I furrow my brow. “Aren’t you coming?”
She shakes her head. “Winston and I are going to get him a treat from the kitchen, and we’ll be here waiting with hot chocolate and a fresh batch of gingerbread cookies when you get back.” She lifts him up in her other arm. “Oh, and Brooks, glad to see you didn’t try to brave the snow again in Lila’s slippers. They might be cute, but they aren’t ideal for the outdoors,” she teases as she heads back inside. “Have fun, kids,” she adds over her shoulder before the door shuts behind her.
“Think she’ll ever let you forget about wearing my bunny slippers?” I ask Brooks with a grin.
“Not a chance,” he mutters with a rueful smile. “She’s right though. We better get a move on.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, ushering me toward the waiting sleigh, where the driver is settled in his seat. “Jump in,” the driver urges before putting on a pair of headphones and staring straight ahead.
Brooks steps closer, extending his hand toward me. When I take it, an electric charge buzzes between us, and everything else fades away. As he helps me into the carriage, his thumb grazes my knuckles, sending a thrill down my spine, and my pulse races out of control.
His touch lingers even after I’m seated, his smoldering gaze holding me captive. It’s as if time stands still, and we’re the only two people in the universe sharing a connection deeper than words.
“Are you coming?” I whisper, afraid to break the spell hanging between us like a thread.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze before climbing in beside me.
Maybe this connection between us isn’t just in my head after all.
As the sleigh moves forward, I can feel it in my bones—the next hour could either become one of the highlights of my life or a crushing letdown that I may never recover from.