18. Kieran
EIGHTEEN
KIERAN
At some point, I was going to have to stop letting this man talk me into things.
The thought should have been alarming. Instead, it made me smile.
"You look suspiciously happy over there."
I glanced away from the window.
Thane's attention remained on the road, but the corner of his mouth had lifted.
"I'm thinking."
"Dangerous."
"Says the man who convinced me to leave Seattle and spend Christmas in a town neither of us has ever visited."
His grin widened. "You agreed surprisingly fast."
"You asked surprisingly well."
The laugh that escaped him settled warmly somewhere beneath my ribs.
Outside the windshield, the scenery continued to change.
The closer we got to Juniper Hollow, the less everything looked like the Seattle I'd known all my life. The buildings grew smaller. The roads felt quieter.
It wasn't that the town looked more festive than Seattle. It was that everything seemed slower. Cozier.
The entire place felt less interested in rushing toward the next thing.
I rested my elbow against the window and watched a family carrying a Christmas tree across a parking lot as we passed.
A few minutes later, I caught Thane checking the rearview mirror. Again. Then his gaze shifted briefly to one of the side mirrors. Then back to the road ahead.
I tried not to smile. "You know, if someone’s following us, they're probably getting suspicious."
He glanced briefly at me with eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Because you've checked your mirrors four hundred times in the last hour."
"I have not."
"Yes, you have."
"I play professional hockey. Observation is part of my job."
I chuckled. "Pretty sure that's not how hockey works."
"Shows what you know."
A sign appeared ahead: WELCOME TO JUNIPER HOLLOW.
The town stretched out beyond it, nestled between rolling hills and towering evergreens dusted with the remnants of an earlier snowfall.
My stomach fluttered unexpectedly. I guessed it was because this was really happening. And because I'd expected to spend Christmas alone, just like I’d done for years. But now I was here. With him.
The cottage sat on the edge of town beneath a cluster of tall pines.
When Thane parked, I found myself staring at it for a second before either of us moved.
The place looked exactly like the kind of cottage someone would put on a Christmas card.
White trim. Stone chimney. A porch wrapped in evergreen garlands.
Lights twinkling beneath the roofline. It looked welcoming before we even stepped inside.
"Okay," I said slowly.
Thane looked amused. "Okay?"
"Either we've accidentally driven into a holiday movie, or somebody spent an unreasonable amount of time decorating."
His laugh followed us as we climbed out of the SUV.
Cold air brushed against my face. The scent of pine lingered in the breeze. By the time we reached the front door, I was already smiling. My smile widened the second I stepped inside.
The cottage glowed with warmth.
A Christmas tree stood near the fireplace, decorated with white lights and handmade ornaments. Garlands draped across the mantel. Stockings hung above the hearth. A basket filled with local snacks sat on the coffee table beside a handwritten welcome note.
For several seconds, I simply stood there, taking it all in. The cottage felt lived-in. Welcoming. As if somebody had decorated it because they wanted people to feel at home. It wasn’t painful, but it hurt the way memories sometimes do.
Strong hands settled around my waist. I hadn't even realized Thane had put down the bags.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly.
I leaned back against him. For a moment, I simply enjoyed the warmth of his body pressed against mine. The security of it. The simple fact that someone was holding me.
"My mom used to decorate for Christmas." The words came quietly. I wasn't even sure why I said them.
He pressed a kiss against the side of my head. The gesture warmed me more than the fire crackling in the fireplace.
Eventually, we carried our bags upstairs. The bedroom was just as cozy as the rest of the cottage.
After unpacking, we showered and changed clothes, then headed back to the living room.
Thane wrapped his arms around me from behind again. Apparently, he had decided personal space was optional. Not that I was complaining.
His chin settled on my shoulder. "You've been staring at that tree again."
"I have not."
"Yes, you have." The amusement in his voice made me smile.
I rested my hands over his. "This doesn't feel real."
Thane turned me around slowly until we were facing each other. The lights from the tree reflected in his eyes.
"Good," he said quietly.
I blinked. "Good?"
A smile tugged at his mouth. "Because it doesn't feel real to me either."
Before I could answer, he kissed me. Slowly. Warmly. The kind of kiss that made me forget whatever I had been thinking about before it happened.
When we finally pulled apart, I found myself smiling again.
"Come on," he said.
"Where are we going?"
"The Christmas tree farm."
I chuckled. "You say that like there aren't thousands of Christmas tree farms."
"Trust me."
"You've been here before?"
"No."
I looked at him. "Then how do you know where you're going?"
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I made a phone call."
"To?"
"Tannen. He also gave me a list of places we're apparently required to visit before we leave town."
I laughed. "Required?"
"His word, not mine. And after twenty minutes of directions, recommendations, and a warning that I'd regret skipping the tree farm, I decided arguing wasn't worth it."
There was something ridiculously attractive about a man who could be both spontaneous and prepared.
Unfortunately, I was beginning to discover there were a lot of things about Thane Hale that were unfairly attractive, including the way he reached for my hand before leading me toward the door as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
On the drive, I learned we were heading to Kincaid Christmas Tree Farm.
The ride was short, but it gave me enough time to notice that Juniper Hollow seemed to operate on an entirely different schedule than Seattle.
Nobody appeared to be in a hurry. People strolled along the sidewalks carrying shopping bags and cups of coffee.
Cars actually stopped for pedestrians. More than once, I caught myself staring out the window simply because the town felt so different from the city we'd left behind.
Then we rounded a bend in the road.
I sat forward in my seat. "Oh."
Ahead of us, the Kincaid Christmas Tree Farm stretched across a wide expanse of land, glowing beneath thousands of lights.
A massive Christmas tree towered over the center of the grounds.
Its branches were wrapped in strands of gold and white that sparkled against the darkening sky.
Booths lined the pathways in every direction; their roofs draped with garlands and ribbons while Christmas music drifted through hidden speakers.
Thane laughed softly beside me. "That good?"
I tore my eyes away long enough to look at him. "You knew it looked like this."
"I had a suspicion."
"A suspicion?" I gestured toward the windshield. "There's a tree out there big enough to guide ships through a storm."
His grin widened. "That's a yes, then?"
“It’s definitely a yes.” I was smiling too hard to sound annoyed.
The moment we stepped out of the SUV, the farm surrounded us with sound and color.
Children darted between booths, clutching candy canes nearly as long as their arms. Couples wandered beneath strings of lights overhead.
Somewhere nearby, somebody was selling roasted nuts because the sweet scent drifted through the cold evening air every few seconds. I felt alive.
The place felt alive.
Nobody seemed stressed or rushed. People were simply enjoying themselves. A group of children raced past us, laughing.
One little girl nearly collided with Thane before the woman, probably her mother, caught her arm and apologized. Thane immediately crouched to the child's height and assured her she hadn't done anything wrong.
The girl stared at him for a second. Then she pointed at the giant tree. "Did you see how big it is?"
Thane nodded solemnly. "I did. It's very impressive."
The little girl seemed satisfied with that answer and ran off.
When Thane stood again, I was still looking at him. "What?"
I shook my head. "Nothing."
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You were judging me."
"I was appreciating your ability to have serious conversations about Christmas trees with six-year-olds."
"I contain multitudes."
The laughter stayed with me as we wandered deeper into the fair, following a path lined with Christmas trees and vendor booths.
A tall man in a red-and-black flannel was helping a family load a tree onto the roof of their SUV. He looked exactly like somebody who belonged on a Christmas tree farm. Broad shoulders. Work-worn hands. Easy confidence. Every few minutes, somebody stopped to wave or call his name.
"Busy day?" Thane asked as we approached.
The man laughed and secured the final strap around the tree. "Busy month."
He turned toward us and offered his hand. "Levi Kincaid."
Thane shook it first. "Thane Hale."
Recognition flashed across Levi's face almost immediately. "The hockey player."
"Depends who's asking."
Levi laughed. "My husband, Aiden, would kill me if I didn't recognize one of the Seattle Orcas."
Then his attention shifted to me. "And you are?"
"Kieran."
Levi shook my hand just as warmly. "Nice to meet you, Kieran."
“Same.”
Levi spent another minute pointing out a few of the attractions scattered around the farm. Apparently, the giant tree served as the unofficial meeting point whenever people got separated, which happened often enough that he sounded very familiar with the problem.
"Food is over that way," he said, gesturing toward a cluster of booths where the scent of cinnamon and roasted nuts drifted through the air. "Craft vendors are on the east side. And if you hear somebody threatening customers into buying stuffed animals, that's probably my sister, Paige."
Thane laughed. "Threatening customers?"
"She's very passionate about her business."
Levi's expression suggested he was speaking from years of personal experience.
We thanked him and continued along the pathway. The farther we walked, the more there seemed to be. Every few minutes, something new caught my attention, whether it was handmade ornaments, wooden toys, or jars of homemade preserves stacked in neat rows.
The entire place felt less like a Christmas market and more like a community gathering that happened to be wrapped in lights and garland.
Then I heard a woman's voice. "If you're going to stand there admiring them, you should at least say hello."
I turned toward the sound.
That was when I saw the stuffies.
An entire display covered the table. Bears. Foxes. Penguins. Owls. Creatures I couldn't immediately identify. Every single one looked handmade, and every single one looked loved.
A young woman with wild curls looked up from rearranging the display. She must be Levi’s sister, which is hardly surprising since their eyes and colouring are so much alike.
"Feel free to pick them up," she said. "They get offended if people only admire them from a distance."
I laughed despite myself.
“This one is Barnaby,” she said, pointing to a bear. “And these are Winston, Ferdie, Oliver, and Percy,” she continued, pointing to a wolf, fox, otter, and penguin.
I nodded, as if I’d remember all their names in the next five minutes. Then my gaze landed on a small stuffed moose wearing a green scarf.
For some reason, I couldn't stop looking at it.
Paige’s eyes followed my gaze. “He’s Mr. Maple.”
I looked down at the little moose again.
The scarf around his neck sat slightly crooked, as though somebody had tied it in a hurry. One of his antlers leaned a little farther to the left than the other. He wasn't perfect.
That was probably why I liked him.
Carefully, I picked him up.
The fabric felt soft beneath my fingers. The weight settled comfortably against my chest while I examined the stitching along one side. Paige had taken their time. Every seam looked deliberate. Every tiny imperfection somehow made him feel more real.
"See?" Paige said, sounding entirely too pleased with herself. "He picked you."
I laughed. "That's not how stuffed moose work."
"That's exactly how stuffed moose work." The certainty in her voice suggested this was an argument she had won many times before.
For a second, I found myself smiling down at Mr. Maple.
Then, without really thinking about it, I hugged him lightly against my chest. The gesture lasted less than a heartbeat.
Just long enough for warmth to spread through me unexpectedly.
Just long enough to forget I wasn't alone.
Awareness hit a second later. Heat immediately climbed into my face.
I carefully returned Mr. Maple to the table.
When I looked up, Paige was watching me.
Her smile was small and entirely too perceptive. The kind of smile that suggested she'd just figured something out. "He's got good taste."
I pretended not to know who she was talking about.
The truth was that Mr. Maple would have fit perfectly on the shelf beside my bed. He was just a stuffed moose. Yet every time I looked at him, I felt the same ridiculous urge to pick him up again.
Instead, I slipped my hands into my pockets and stepped away from the display. "Come on," I said, forcing a smile. "If I learn the names of any more stuffed animals, I'm going to start feeling obligated to remember birthdays."
Paige laughed. The sound followed us as we moved farther down the row of vendors.
For the next few minutes, my attention bounced between ornaments, food stalls, and holiday decorations. Still, every now and then, I caught myself glancing back toward the booth. Often enough to annoy myself.
The problem wasn't Paige. Paige had already made it abundantly clear she'd noticed. The problem was Thane. I hadn't looked directly at him after the whole Mr. Maple incident.
Not really. Partly because I wasn't sure I wanted to know whether he'd seen it. And partly because I was afraid he had. Which was ridiculous. He was probably paying attention to the market. Or the lights. Or literally anything else.
Yet every time I considered looking over, I found a reason not to. A Christmas ornament. A wreath. A food stall. Anything but Thane Hale.
Unfortunately, avoiding him did absolutely nothing to stop me from thinking about the stuffed moose I'd left behind.