Chapter 17
Amelia
I barely slept last night. Excitement for the festival kept me up long past midnight. Now, the early morning light comes through my window, and I’m already moving.
I organize everything. Breakfast is ready, and I’ve prepped sandwiches for lunch in the fridge.
Once I get Mom’s things together, I need to get myself ready.
Luna’s bringing the family to the festival today, giving me the chance to throw myself into it completely.
I need to be hands on, helping set up, making sure everything runs smoothly.
I can’t just leave it all to Adrian, and I definitely can’t spend the day distracted, worrying about Mom.
With everything packed and ready, I pull open my closet, scanning for something festive. My hand lands on a red thrifted dress I plan to pair with a white cardigan, stockings, and boots. Perfect for the Christmas theme.
By eight, I’m out the door, picking up fresh pies from Genevieve’s bakery before heading to the town square, which is already bustling. The banner is up, vendors are setting up their booths, and the food trucks are arriving.
Our setup moves along surprisingly well. Everyone chips in, lifting tables, arranging decorations, checking sound equipment.
Adrian and I both volunteered to work a few stations, freeing up more people to just enjoy the day.
My first stop is the gift-wrapping booth.
I lay everything out, wrapping paper in every color and pattern, ribbons curling at the ends, rolls of tape, stacks of gift bags.
An empty money tin sits on the table, waiting to be filled.
I take a step back, scanning the station, making sure it’s ready to go.
“Hey.” The familiar deep voice comes from behind me.
I turn, grinning as Adrian walks over, his broad shoulders parting the crowd effortlessly.
His short dark hair is neatly styled, not a strand out of place.
His blue eyes meet mine, and there is a flutter in my chest. There’s something confident about the way he looks, like he’s not trying to impress anyone but still somehow does.
He’s wearing a well-fitted black jacket, and his jeans are worn but perfectly suited for today.
His hands are tucked into his pockets, but he stands tall, relaxed, yet commanding in his presence.
I can feel the warmth in his smile, and it pulls me in even more.
There’s just something about him that makes it hard to look away.
“Hey, yourself.”
He glances around at the nearly finished setup, nodding. “This looks great.”
“And it’s not even done yet.” I flash him a grin. “I picked up Genevieve’s pies and stashed them behind that stand. People need to donate for the raffle to get their hands on one of those.”
“Nice. Pecan?” He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.
I nod. “Of course.”
His eyes darken with amusement. “You’re making my mouth water.”
“Good. Hopefully, it does the same for everyone else.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I brought all the gift baskets and raffle items. Figured I’d bring them out now.”
“I’ll give you a hand.” I glance over at Ingrid from Pulse Boutique, who’s already manning the wrapping station. “Ingrid, I’m going to help Adrian unload his car, then I’ll be back.”
She waves us off. “Take your time, honey.”
We walk side by side toward his car. The air between us feels charged. My pulse quickens every time his arm brushes mine, and I find myself stealing glances at his profile.
“I barely slept last night,” I admit, breaking the silence.
Adrian glances at me, then back at the ground.
“Yeah, me neither.” He chuckles, shaking his head.
“Kind of nervous, which is weird. It’s just a fundraiser, but…
I don’t know. The pressure to raise enough money for the CT scanners is weighing on me.
If we can even get one scanner, it means patients won’t have to drive for diagnostics.
We could catch things early, like cancer and heart conditions. ”
I pause for a second, taking in his words, then bump my shoulder playfully against his. “We’ve got this in the bag.”
His lips quirk up slightly, and I can tell he wants to believe it.
“Oh,” he adds, “I also have all the money from the tickets sold at work for the gift basket raffle. That’ll add a nice chunk to the total.”
“Perfect.”
We reach his car, popping the trunk to grab baskets filled with neatly arranged goodies… Bottles of wine, handmade crafts, gourmet chocolates.
“Where are we keeping all this?”
“There’s a safe spot near the main tent,” he says. “Let’s keep everything together.”
“Good idea.”
We barely make it back before people start pulling us in different directions.
Milton, the community coordinator, calls my name, asking if there’s anything left to be done. I take a slow scan of the square. Booths are set, decorations are up, the scent of fresh coffee and pastries fills the air. The festival is ready.
I shake my head. “I think we’re good to go.”
Checking the time and my clipboard, it looks like the fundraiser isn’t only ready to start, but it’s also about time for my first shift at the gift-wrapping booth, because later, I’m face painting. I nod to Adrian, signaling I’m ready, and head over to the booth.
For a while, I just stand there, proud, snapping pictures that I hope capture the vibrant energy of the crowd, and the way the town comes alive when we do something like this.
The fundraiser has officially begun. Today’s going to change everything.
I’m wrapping gifts as fast as I can, my hands moving on autopilot, when Adrian strolls up to my booth.
“I see you’re busy,” he says, his deep voice laced with playfulness. “Figured I’d make you even busier by having you wrap something for me.”
I glance up, giving him a dry look. “Really thoughtful of you.”
“I try.”
“Sorry, I’m flat out here.” I finish tying off a ribbon before pushing the wrapped gift toward the waiting customer. “But I guess I can spare a minute. What do you need?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sleek, engraved pen, placing it gently on the counter in front of me. “Can you wrap this for me?”
I pick it up, turning it over in my fingers. The polished silver, the way the letters “make your mark” are carefully etched along the side, it’s beautiful. “Who’s it for?” I ask lightly, trying to ignore the ridiculous hope swelling in my chest.
Adrian only raises an eyebrow. “That would be spoiling it, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t know. Would it?” I smirk.
He doesn’t answer, just watches me as I put it in a box before I start wrapping, my hands suddenly not as steady as they should be.
The thought sneaks in before I can stop it…
What if it’s for me? But no, that’s stupid.
It’s probably for Keith. It makes sense.
It’s the perfect kind of gift for him, something for his office.
Still, my fingers tremble slightly as I fold the wrapping paper around it. I know Adrian notices. He leans in just a little, his presence hot, his eyes tracking my movements.
“You’re making me nervous,” I say, forcing a playful tone.
That earns a soft chuckle. “You’d make a terrible surgeon.”
“Yeah, well, surgeons have eyes on them all the time. Not really my thing.” I finish the last fold, secure the tape, and tie a small ribbon around it before sliding it back to him. “There. Wrapped with care. Don’t forget that donations are accepted.”
“Appreciate it.” He hands over some cash before picking up the gift, and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, just a small touch, he walks off into the crowd.
I shiver as I watch him go, swallowing against the strange lump in my throat. Shaking it off, I focus on my booth for a few more hours before my stomach starts making its own demands.
By lunchtime, I’m starving, so I step away to find food. Passing the choir that is singing Christmas carols in the main square.
I wander toward one of the food stands, scanning the options, when I catch sight of Adrian again. This time, he’s behind the counter, wearing an apron, his dark hair slightly tousled, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
I grin. “Now it’s my turn to put you to work.”
He glances up, grinning. “Yeah, looks like it.”
I step closer, pretending to consider my choices while my eyes flick over the menu.
“Hmm.” Plucking a candy cane from a small display, I unwrap it slowly.
My hands shake as I bring it to my lips, suddenly aware that Adrian’s watching.
I take a small taste, the peppermint strong on my tongue, and when I glance up and catch his eyes tracking the movement, heat fills my cheeks.
His Adam’s apple bobs.
Feeling flustered by the intensity of his gaze, I pull the candy away quickly. “This is a good candy cane.” I try to sound casual, but my voice comes out a little breathless.
“Didn’t realize there were bad ones,” he says, still focused on my mouth.
I twirl the stripped candy between my fingers. “There are.”
He shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it. I don’t know what I’m doing or how far I should push this, but something in his expression makes my stomach fill with butterflies.
Eventually, I settle on tacos. After I pay for my meal, Adrian hands me a steaming hot plate with the scents of seasoned meat and fresh cilantro filling the air around me. “See you around, Chef Adrian.”
His lips twitch. “Enjoy your meal, Trouble.”
The nickname sends warmth through my chest. There’s something about the way he says it, like it’s meant just for me.
I walk off, finding my sister, Hazel, sitting at one of the wooden picnic tables, already halfway through her lunch. I slide into the seat across from her, picking up a taco and taking a careful bite. It’s delicious, so warm, flavorful, and comforting, I finish it in only a few bites.
“You guys really pulled this off,” Hazel says, looking around.