Chapter 10 #2
“You were saying she just moved here alone? No family or friends?” Mom asks, and Dad leans over to pat her hand resting on the arm of the couch.
“Well, that’s what she said. She’d taken a job in town and just moved in—recently, from the looks of it.
All her belongings were still in boxes, and she didn’t even have snow tires or chains.
” I shake my head, remembering the grateful look on her face when I’d cleared her driveway before leaving.
“I didn’t pry. She already let me wait out the storm under her roof. ”
“After you rescued her and her tree and kept her from freezing. Seems like a fair trade to me.” Nathan pushes off the wall and flops down beside Gran, slinging an arm around her shoulders like a smug cat.
“But Gran asked for juicy details. Why don’t you tell her about that kiss?
” He puckers his lips in a ridiculous smoochy face.
I roll my eyes. “You’re insufferable.”
“Stop harassing your brother. It’s his story to tell.” Gran elbows Nathan hard in the ribs.
“Ow—Gran!” He rubs at his side dramatically.
“Don’t ‘Gran’ me.” She jabs at him again, and when he scoots just out of reach, she whacks him across the shin with her cane. “Go make yourself useful and make me some cocoa.”
“Cocoa?” He dances out of her way. “With the little mini marshmallows?”
“The same way I used to make it for you boys when you’d wake up early and the snow was falling. Now hurry up.” She waves her cane again for emphasis.
Mom shakes her head, smiling despite herself, before her gaze returns to me expectantly.
“It was just a mistletoe kiss,” I mutter. Heat creeps up the back of my neck, betraying me. “Nothing special.”
Nothing special. I try to believe the words, but a hollow ache settles in my chest. My mind drifts back to Hazel’s soft lips against mine, the way she’d unconsciously turned toward me in her sleep, nestling against me like she belonged there.
Nothing about that felt ordinary. It had felt right. Too right.
“So…” Mom tilts her head, eyes intent. “Did you invite her over for Christmas?”
“Christmas?” I repeat dumbly, buying time.
“Yes. Christmas—as in three days from now, Christmas.” She gestures at the towering tree in the corner, twinkling in the firelight.
“I—well, no.” I twist the empty mug in my hands, wishing it could swallow me whole.
Mom lets out an exasperated breath, hands on her hips now.
“Benjamin. It sounds like you’re interested in this young woman.
And from what I’ve gathered, she’s new here—alone.
No one deserves to be alone at Christmas.
No one.” She rises to her feet, resolve firm in her stance.
“You should ask her to come. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.”
“What?” My head jerks up. Surely, I’ve misheard.
“You heard me.”
“What if she says no?” I demand, voice sharper than intended. “You don’t know her. She’s stubborn. Insistent.” A witch who doesn’t want you. Not really. Not the way you want her.
“If she says no, then that’s her choice.” Mom shrugs.
I scrub a hand over my face. “What if she has to work?”
“I know for a fact this entire town shuts down for Christmas Eve and Day,” Mom counters without missing a beat.
I huff out a humorless laugh. “So what, you want me to just show up at her house like some kind of stalker? Hey, we just met, but how about spending Christmas with a house full of bears?” I throw my arms wide for emphasis.
Gran slaps her knee and cackles, rocking back on the couch. “I’d pay good money to see the look on her face when you ask her that.”
“Gran.”
“The town isn’t that big,” Mom continues, ignoring me. “I guarantee if you stop at Harry’s first, that nosy old man will know where she’s working.”
“Harry?” Dad finally chimes in from his chair. “Haven’t seen him in years.”
“He sends his greetings,” I say automatically, glad for the change of subject. “Said he misses your nights out.”
Dad chuckles, eyes warm with nostalgia. “Well, that settles it then.”
“Settles what?” I ask warily.
“That you need sleep,” Mom declares, dusting her hands like the matter’s closed. “Then tomorrow you and Nathan can finish the chores, and after that, you and your father will head into town. I’ll make a list. Hazel doesn’t know it yet, but she’s not spending Christmas alone.”
My heart stutters.
The room hums with my family’s chatter, plans already spinning, but all I can hear is the echo of Hazel’s laughter in my memory—the feel of her hand trembling in mine when she tried to stand on her ankle, the way her lips had parted in surprise against mine under the mistletoe.
Hazel in this house. In my house. Hazel at Christmas. Hazel seated across from me at our table, wrapped in the warmth of my family like she belongs here.
The thought both thrills and terrifies me. Because if she says yes—if she comes—there will be no pretending she’s just a witch who stumbled into my life. No pretending I don’t want her, bone-deep.
No pretending she’s not our mate. They’ll sense it the moment they meet her.
And if she says no…
I set my mug down, hands tight against the ache in my chest.
One way or another, tomorrow will change everything.