3. Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
HOPE
“ E arth to Hope!” Dakota waved a hand in front of my face as Paisley laughed beside her. “You’ve been starin’ at your cauliflower pizza for five minutes straight. Spill it, girl. What’s goin’ on?”
I sighed, busted by my friends, as usual. “I’m just... overwhelmed, I guess. This whole Christmas list is intense. And then there’s Colton...” I trailed off, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. He was a whole different kind of intense.
Dakota’s grin widened. “He’s totally into you, you know.”
“ Kota ,” Paisley cut in. “Be easy. Hope, how do you feel about all this?”
“Honestly? Part of me is excited, but the other part is nervous I won’t be able to go from Christmas-adverse to holly jolly. Even for Colton. I don’t wanna disappoint him. ”
And it wasn’t just the Christmas stuff that made my stomach churn. Getting closer to Colton, letting myself hope for something more with him after skirting around it since we met—it felt dangerous, like leaning too far out over a ledge.
“You won’t,” Dakota insisted. “Trust me. He’s Tuck’s bestie, and I can promise you there’s nothin’ you could do to disappoint Colton Hayes. He’s smitten.”
“It’s okay to take things slow,” Paisley said with a warning look at Dakota. “There’s no rush to complete the list or figure out your feelings for Colton. Take it one thing at a time, one day at a time.”
I took a deep breath. “I can’t tell if I’m more overwhelmed by the idea of celebratin’ Christmas or by runnin’ around town doin’ all this stuff with him .”
Paisley nodded, her green eyes softening. “That’s okay. You’re allowed to feel both excited and scared.”
Dakota’s dark waves bounced as she nodded enthusiastically. “But let’s be real: if anyone can help you embrace the holiday spirit, it’s Colt. He’s the happiest guy I know. I’d stick with him and see if you can have some fun this time of year for a change, ya know? That man gives off Christmas cheer like a festive radiator.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image. “A festive radiator? Really, Dakota?”
She grinned, unabashed. “You know what I mean. Just... give him a chance.”
“I’ll try,” I promised, then sighed with gratitude as the conversation shifted to a funny story about a case Colton and Tucker were working on regarding a missing blow-up Santa two streets over from the pizza place we currently sat in.
In the end, I thanked them again for their advice, standing to hug them both goodbye. Their warmth and support wrapped around me, but they didn’t entirely banish my fears of getting close to yet another person who wouldn’t be there when all was said and done. My whole family was gone, so Christmas was a downer. Did I really want to make it special again, only to have another reason to hate it when I inevitably lost Colton, too?
The crisp night air hit my face as I pushed open the heavy wooden door of The Brick Oven. And there, leaning against a streetlamp with a playful grin, was Colton. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the way the golden light cast a warm glow over his features, making him look even hotter than usual. And I went straight to him, like a moth to a flame. Or… a cold woman to a Christmas furnace. No, wait, wasn’t it a radiator?
I shook my head. Both were ridiculous.
“Hey, there,” he called out. “Fancy meeting you here.”
In one hand, he held several bags that looked ready to burst with… candy? Groceries? I wasn’t sure what, but I had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with that dang list.
I smiled and tipped my chin toward the bags. “Somethin’ tells me this was no accident.”
He grinned wider. “Guilty. Ready for some Christmas construction? ”
“Construction? As in…? Wait. You wanna make gingerbread houses? Now?”
“No time like the present, right? I was thinking we could head over to the B&B and use the big table in the dining room.”
I bit my lip, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of my scarf. “If I say yes, don’t get your hopes up that I’m some kind of architectural genius.”
Colton chuckled. “Glad you’re not because neither am I. Besides,” he added, his voice softening, “I’d really like to spend some more time with you. It’s almost Christmas, and we’ve got a lot of stuff left to do.”
My heart did a little flip. I took a deep breath, feeling a spark of something—adventure? possibility?—light up within me. “Let’s do it.”
A s we neared the B&B, the streets of Charlotte Oaks glowed with enough holiday cheer that it was almost like it was trying to outshine Colton’s mood. He was really into this. Was he always this crazy for Christmas, or was there something about this situation that had him turning it up a notch?
“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “heard of any cool places for rent around here? The B&B is great, don’t get me wrong, but I’m ready to get my own place.”
“Not off the top of my head, sorry. But I guess that means things are goin’ well with the PI business, then?”
“Yeah. I didn’t think we’d have much to do in a town this small, but it turns out when the town is as quirky as this one, there are plenty of reasons to need a PI.”
I chuckled at that. “Doesn’t your work usually involve a lot of travel? Sure, Tucker decided to settle down here after fallin’ for Dakota, but you could still do the jobs that would require leavin’ town, right?”
He shrugged, but there was a hint of something deeper in his eyes when he looked at me. “I could, but I don’t have to.”
“Don’t you miss movin’ around all the time?”
“Not really, no. I did enough moving around in the Marines. Besides, Charlotte Oaks has this… charm to it. A sense of community I haven’t had in a long time. And… there are some other pretty compelling reasons to stick around.”
Was I one of those reasons? Yes, it was pretty clear that I was. But did I want to be? The thought both thrilled and terrified me.
What was I doing? Here I was, going out on a limb with this man when every time I’d done that in the past, it hadn’t ended well for me. My family wasn’t the only thing I’d lost. I’d dated several promising men all through my twenties, but where were they now? Not here, that was for sure.
And yet, as we walked side by side, our arms occasionally brushing, I couldn’t deny the spark between us. Or the way my heart seemed to lighten with each step we took together .
When we reached the front steps of the B&B, my breath caught in my throat. The grand Victorian house was transformed into a made-for-a-Christmas-movie paradise, with twinkling white lights outlining every eave and window. Garlands of fresh pine wrapped around the porch railings, their fragrance wafting through the crisp night air.
They did this every year, of course, but there was something about seeing it this way right now, next to him , that felt different. More magical… and less heartbreaking.
“Wow,” I whispered, drinking in the sight.
Colton only grinned as we stepped inside. The foyer glowed with the soft flicker of battery-operated candles, and a massive Christmas tree dominated one corner, its ornaments catching and scattering the light.
“Come on,” Colton said, leading me toward the dining room.
The long oak table was cleared of its usual settings, and I helped Colt arrange an array of colorful candies, tubes of icing, and sheets of gingerbread that he’d been carrying in the bag. My eyes widened at the spread when we were done.
“You really went all out,” I said, unable to keep the smile from my voice.
Colton rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “Go big or go home, right?”
I laughed. “If you say so. Where do we start?”
“You’ve never done this before?” he asked, and when I shook my head, he looked mildly horrified.
As Colton began explaining the intricacies of gingerbread house construction, I found myself relaxing into the moment. His enthusiasm was infectious, and soon, I was laughing as we tried to get our walls to stand up straight.
“No, no, hold it there,” Colton instructed, his hand brushing mine as he steadied a piece of gingerbread. The touch sent a little thrill through me, and I hoped he couldn’t see the blush creeping up my cheeks.
I focused on carefully piping a line of icing.
“You’re pretty handy with that icing,” Colton remarked, his eyes twinkling. “Got some secret baking skills you’re hiding?”
I snorted, nearly causing a glob of icing to go astray. “Actually… yeah. I love to bake for others, but never for myself.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m vegan and gluten-free.”
His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Uh, didn’t I just meet you outside the pizza place?”
I chuckled. “Cauliflower crust, vegan cheese.”
He shuddered.
I swatted his arm, laughing at the smear of icing I left in my wake. “Hey, it’s delicious!”
“I’ll take your word for it. Can’t you use cauliflower flour or vegan cake mix for cookies, then?”
“I’ve never found any that tastes as good as the real thing. Not when it comes to baked goods, anyway. So, I just stick to giftin’ cookies or cakes to others. Trust me, there’s plenty of other food for me to enjoy. It doesn’t have to be cookies.”
“What are we gonna do about the white chocolate cranberry cookies on the list? Am I gonna have to eat them all?”
I shrugged. “Guess so.”
He shook his head like that was unacceptable, and I rolled my eyes with a laugh.
“Don’t worry,” he said, looking down at me with a wink that made my tummy flip, “I’ll figure out how to make those cookies edible for you. I’ve got a guy for that.”
I snorted. “No, you don’t.”
“I’ve got a guy for everything.” He dumped a handful of gumdrops onto the roof, some rolling off onto the table.
I laughed, feeling a warmth spread through my chest that had nothing to do with the cozy room. We chatted easily as we decorated, genuinely enjoying each other’s company.
Finally, we stepped back to admire our creation. It was a bit crooked, with a dangerously slanting chimney and landscaping that looked a little like abstract art. But the flickering candlelight from the decor around us reflected off the shiny icing, making it sparkle.
“It’s perfect,” I breathed, surprised by how proud I felt of our wonky little house.
“It’s got character,” Colton agreed, invading my space as he leaned in to adjust a candy cane. Then his hand brushed mine as he reached for a stray gumdrop, sending a tiny shiver up my arm. He paused, then turned to face me fully, his eyes twinkling. “Time to make our Christmas wishes.”
I sighed and shrugged, having no clue what to wish for. It’d been too long since I’d put much stock in anything having to do with Christmas, let alone the magic of Christmas wishes.
But then he stepped forward again, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You read what our mystery friend said in her note: every Christmas wish is a chance for something special. I believe her. Don’t you?”
“I’m startin’ to,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But you go first.”
Colton took a deep breath as he stepped back, his fingers drumming a soft rhythm on the table. “My Christmas wish is... to put down roots here in Charlotte Oaks. To find a place that’s truly mine, where I can be part of this community.”
“That’s a nice wish,” I murmured.
He smiled. “Your turn.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, listening to the soft crackle of the fireplace and feeling the warmth of Colton’s presence beside me. When I opened them again, I knew what I wanted to say.
“My wish is to feel more comfortable with each one of these activities we do. I’m not sure I’ll survive the whole list if I’m a ball of nerves like this every time.”
“You sure it’s the Christmas stuff that makes you nervous?” he asked, his lips tipping up at the corners.
“Yes,” I lied.
He chuckled. “Very convincing.”