Chapter 4
Taylor forced himself out of bed on Saturday morning, pretending he didn’t understand exactly why he’d tossed and turned far too much the night before and a certain dark-haired, dark-eyed guy had taken up seemingly permanent residence in his dreams. He threw on his sweats and a Northwestern sweatshirt and went for his normal Saturday morning run.
Waiting for him as he swung by his house two streets over was Hayden Bradley, who did IT work for the city. They’d started jogging together six months ago when they’d discovered they kept running into each other on Saturdays—literally.
“Hey,” Hayden said as he picked up speed next to Taylor.
“Hey back,” Taylor said.
“Heard about the new applicant,” Hayden said, the winter sun shining on his freckled face.
Taylor groaned. “You and everyone else. Was it too easy for me to just apply for this goddamn job and have nobody else serious apply?”
“Yeah, kinda,” Hayden said wryly. “That was a pipe dream, dude.”
“Ugh,” Taylor said, groaning again.
“And what’s this I heard from Murphy about you ditching Heath Kelly?”
Taylor groaned a third time.
“You okay? Eat something off?”
“No, no, I just . . .” Taylor didn’t know how to say it. He’d told Rocco, just yesterday, that he didn’t have anyone he felt he had to come clean with, but now, faced with Hayden, who’d first been a casual acquaintance but was now a friend, Taylor didn’t want to lie.
“You’re interested in someone else.” Hayden said it matter-of-factly and then shot him a shit-eating grin.
“God, does everyone know already?”
“That you and Rocco Moretti had a drink together on Thursday and then you went to Jolly Java yesterday, even though you don’t drink coffee?
Oh, it’s definitely making the rounds. When I ran into Arlo and Mrs. Lil last night at the rink, she was practically salivating when she told me all about it.
How you’re going to fall madly in love and Rocco’s going to seduce you into drinking coffee. ”
Taylor gave a short bark of laughter. “Not likely,” he said.
“Which part?”
He hesitated. He didn’t want to lie. But he couldn’t exactly tell him the truth either. Maybe he could stick to a version of the truth. “I don’t think I’d ever like anyone enough to drink coffee, but if there was a chance, it would probably be Rocco Moretti.”
Hayden shot him a knowing look. “So you are interested, then.”
They turned down St. Nick Avenue, and sped up a little, both of them fully warmed up now, despite the chill in the air.
“He seems like a cool guy.” Playing things close to the vest was too much of a habit, Taylor knew it. He should be more effusive. But he didn’t know how, without giving everything away.
Hayden raised his eyebrow. “A cool guy?”
“Okay, a hot cool guy,” Taylor admitted.
“Better,” Hayden said, giving him an approving nod.
“I don’t . . .I don’t date much.”
Hayden patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, we know. If you want advice, you know who to come to.”
“You?” Taylor said, his voice full of faux disbelief.
“I ended up with the guy, didn’t I?” Hayden said, referring to Joel, who ran Ginger’s Breads.
“You literally tripped and fell onto him,” Taylor joked. “I’m not sure that counts.”
“Hey, it definitely counts. Honestly, though, you’re gonna do just fine. Rocco does seem like a cool guy. Pumpkin spice notwithstanding.”
“God, not you, too.”
“It wasn’t me. Mrs. Lil was complaining about it. She wondered if maybe she could ask you to persuade him to put it back on the menu.”
“Tell her it’s already back. Not only that, he’s part of this town now. Deserves a second chance, same as us all.”
Taylor hadn’t realized how insistent he sounded until Hayden laughed. “Oh, I can see it now. Your freaking enormous crush is visible from space.”
He almost said, no it’s not, not remotely, but 1) that was not what someone who’d be very publicly dating the guy would say, and 2) it sounded a whole lot like he doth protest too much.
“Uh, yeah,” Taylor admitted bashfully.
“Aw, it’s cute. I’m happy for you, Taylor. This is good.”
Taylor sure hoped so.
Hayden peeled off two miles later, to visit Joel at the bakery, and instead of cooling down, Taylor did an extra mile to try to compensate for the visions of Rocco still insistently dancing in his head and then on his way home, stopped by the Arts and Crafts Fair to make an appearance.
It was the first day and that meant Murphy was in his booth, alongside Tasha who ran his carved gnome business.
Taylor waved to Murphy, talking earnestly to a customer, showing her all the different-sized gnomes. Tasha was hovering close by, a tablet in her hands, probably ready to show her all the available inventory.
Murphy’s booth was the centerpiece of the festival every year, but it felt like each successive year, as the event grew, the waiting list for vendors who wanted to display their wares was growing more and more competitive.
Taylor walked through the narrow aisles, taking in all the sights and smells.
Hand-dipped and hand-poured candles in dozens of holiday scents, hand-built birdhouses decorated in festive colors, and even a few decked out in professional sports team colors, including one in the Charleston Condors’ signature red and orange.
No doubt that vendor was hoping that Jem, retired from the Condors, might walk by and buy it for the new house he was building just outside of town with Murphy.
Knowing Jem, he might do just that.
Speaking of Jem . . .there he was, walking in the opposite direction, next to a woman with dark hair the exact same shade as his and a nose and cheekbones that Jem had been lucky enough to win in the genetic lottery.
Sophie Knight he’d met lots of times before this, but Jem had only recently moved back to town.
“Oh, hey, Taylor. Out for a run this morning?” Jem asked, and they shook hands briefly.
He and Jem had worked together pretty closely over the summer with funding for the Holiday Hope Foundation, making sure there’d be enough money in the coffers for them to hire Mason and also for the foundation’s move to better facilities that could support them year-round.
“Yep,” Taylor said, nodding. “Hayden Bradley and I try to meet up every Saturday morning. Good to see you, too, Mrs. Knight.”
“You, too, Taylor, and I always have to tell you to call me Sophie,” she said, a small smile on her face. “Jem, you should join them.”
Jem flushed. “I don’t want to invite myself—”
“You’d be welcome to join,” Taylor said. “Just don’t expect too much. Neither of us are professional athletes. Not even close.”
“And neither am I anymore,” Jem said wryly.
Taylor shot him a look. “I’d still bet you’d run circles around us.”
“I’ll try not to,” Jem said, “but it’s not going to be a problem. I promise.”
“I love a serendipitous moment,” Sophie said.
“You here to see Murphy?” Taylor asked.
Jem grinned. “Per Tasha, if he makes a break for it, I’m supposed to drag him back to the festival by his ear.”
“Ouch,” Taylor said. He knew Murphy Clark was far, far more comfortable in his barn, carving his fanciful and whimsical gnomes, than selling them to an interested crowd.
“I told him I’d do it by the hair, instead,” Jem joked.
“Jeremiah!” Sophie said, smacking her son on his arm. “That’s my future son-in-law you’re talking about.”
Jem’s expression softened. “Yeah,” he said.
Taylor wanted to ask if this was a faraway future kind of expectation or a solid reality that would be happening soon, but before he could, Jem shot his mother a look and Sophie turned to Taylor, changing the subject. “And what’s this about you and the new coffee shop owner, Taylor?”
“Uh, well . . .” Taylor stammered.
He was going to have to practice his answer to this question. The whole freaking point of dating Rocco was for it to be public knowledge, but right now, he couldn’t even manage a simple question about him.
“Aw, you’re cute,” Sophie said, patting him on his arm. “You’ve got a real crush on him. I can tell. You look just like Jem did when he first came back to town last year. Walked around every day with his head in the clouds and hearts in his eyes.”
“Mom,” Jem said, flushing redder.
“You did,” she said with affection. “And it was just as adorable then as it is now, with Taylor here. It’s beautiful how much Christmas Falls loves love.”
“That’s a lot of love,” Jem said. But he didn’t look like he hated it. In fact, he looked happier and more relaxed, comfortable in his own skin in a way he hadn’t been, when he’d first come back to Christmas Falls last year.
“And you love it,” Sophie said, poking him in the arm. “Will we see you at the skating rink tonight, for the social?”
“Uh . . .sure,” Taylor said. Mona had said, get out and be present, remind everyone who you are, and that you love this town, even if you’re not from it, so he supposed that included wobbling around on the temporary rink set up in Sugar Plum Park and drinking lukewarm hot chocolate.
It would be better if Rocco was by his side, but he still had their date on Monday night to look forward to.
He wouldn’t be alone, then.
And maybe before that, he’d practice acknowledging his interest in public without stammering or flushing an even brighter red than Jem Knight when his mom teased him about his boyfriend.
“Well, see you then,” Jem said, patting him on the shoulder.
Taylor walked around for another few minutes.
He bought a chai snickerdoodle candle that he hoped would make his house smell like he actually baked chai snickerdoodles and a cat ornament that reminded him of Meredith from the booths, and shook more hands.
Greeted tourists and townspeople alike, until forty minutes later, purchases in hand, he headed home.
By Monday night, Taylor felt like the whole town not only knew about their date, but they’d gone out of their way to ask him about it.
Repetition helped him answer their questions better, but it was still undeniably awkward.