Chapter 12
REESE
The star feels heavier than it should in my hands as Rebecca and I climb the curved staircase to the second floor balcony. Below us, guests gather in the lobby, faces turned upward with anticipation.
Returning the star to the top of the tree feels more meaningful after everything that’s transpired. It reminds me of promises, hope, and the future.
“Ready?” I ask.
Rebecca grips the railing, leaning out slightly to gauge the distance. “This tree is even taller than I thought.”
“Good thing you have a firefighter with you.” I position myself at the edge of the balcony, directly above where the star should sit. “I’ve got excellent aim. Comes with the job.”
She laughs a sound that reminds me of Christmas bells. “No pressure, but everyone is watching.”
I chuckle. “Thanks for that.”
I brace her as she leans over carefully, extending her arms, and gently lowers the star onto the top branch. It takes three tries to get it properly secured, but when it finally settles into place and the lights illuminate it, the entire lobby erupts in applause.
The star gleams like it never left, like it was always meant to be there. Just like Rebecca was always meant to end up here. Maybe like I was meant to knock on her suite door on Christmas Eve morning.
“It’s perfect,” Rebecca breathes beside me, and when I look at her face, she’s glowing in the reflection of the tree lights.
Below, Noella clasps her hands together, and her eyes glass over. “Our star is home! This calls for a celebration!”
If I thought the Christmas Eve dessert spread was impressive, tonight’s display is over the top in the best possible way.
The dining room resembles the Land of Sweets.
Tiered stands overflow with treats from chocolate peppermint cupcakes topped with candy cane buttercream, gingerbread cookies decorated with such intricate icing they look like lacy edible art, miniature cheesecakes drizzled with caramel and dusted with cocoa powder.
There is fudge and every kind of homemade candy, chocolate truffles rolled in crushed pistachios, cookies in at least six different flavors, and a massive yule log cake decorated with powdered sugar snow and marzipan holly.
Candles flicker on every surface—not the electric kind, but real tapers in silver and gold holders, their flames dancing and casting warm light across the scene.
More garlands drape from the ceiling, these woven with white lights and silver ribbon that catches the candlelight.
The whole room smells like chocolate and cinnamon and pine.
In the center of it all sits a crystal punch bowl filled with what Noella calls “Starlight Cider.” It’s golden and bubbly with floating cranberries and orange slices on the surface.
“This is incredible,” Rebecca says, filling a small plate with an assortment of treats. “I feel like we’ve walked into the North Pole’s test kitchen.”
“Everything is extra sweet tonight,” Noella announces to the room in her Mrs. Claus outfit and a radiant smile. “Our star found its way home, just like each of you has found your way here for Christmas. The Spirit is real, my dears. You just have to believe.”
She catches my eye and winks, and I’m pretty sure she knows exactly what’s been happening between Rebecca and me.
Hollis comes in from the (finally) slowing snowstorm with a, “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” and hugs his wife.
I fill my plate and Rebecca and I find a small table tucked in the corner. It’s semi-private, which is perfect because I can’t stop staring at her in the candlelight.
Her features seem to glow—not the harsh, artificial glow of stage lights, but softer. Her auburn hair catches the golden light, and the snowflake necklace I gave her rests at her throat, glinting with every breath.
“You’re staring,” she says, but she’s smiling.
“Can you blame me?”
She takes a bite of a chocolate truffle and actually moans. “Oh wow. Okay, please add truffles to the Crush Cakes menu. This is outrageously delicious. We have to get the recipe and share it with the world.”
“We?” I catch the word, hope flaring in my chest.
“I’ll need somewhere to spend my time once I move to Huckleberry Hill. I happen to know at least one of the owners. Maybe you can put in a good word for me.” She leans forward conspiratorially. “Plus, I’m told one of them is extremely handsome.”
Before I can respond, Pookie—who’s been suspiciously quiet in Rebecca’s lap—suddenly launches herself at me, planting tiny pug kisses all over my face.
“Pookie!” Rebecca tries to pull her back, but I’m laughing.
“It’s okay. I think she’s warming up to me.”
“She knows you’re going to spoil her rotten,” Rebecca says.
I scratch behind Pookie’s ears, and she turns in my lap a few times before snuggling up with a happy doggy sigh, her Sleigh Queen sweater slightly askew. “Obviously. She’s going to be the most pampered pug at the fire station. Oreo won’t know what hit him.”
“Oreo?”
“The station dalmatian.”
She laughs. “You’ve really thought about this.”
“I’ve thought about a lot of things.” I meet Rebecca’s eyes across the table. “Like how I’m going to explain to Brady that I’m dating his little sister.”
“Dating?”
Holding her gaze, I ask, “Becca, will you be my girlfriend?”
“Yes, definitely yes.” She winces. “But I don’t think that’s going to be a fun conversation to have with my brother.”
“He’ll get over it. Eventually.” I hope. “Besides, he sent me to check on you. This is technically his fault.”
“I don’t think ‘you told me to make sure she was okay’ translates to ‘so I fell in love with her.’”
The words hang in the air between us, and I realize what she just said. What she just admitted.
“Love?” My voice comes out rougher than intended.
“He can’t argue with that.”
I sink my gaze into her with a promise. “And I’ll never give him a reason to question what you mean to me.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “Reese ... yes. Love. Is that too fast? Too soon? Too—?”
“Maybe this has been years in the making. After all, I remember every song you ever played on that old piano.”
“I was at all your hockey games. And I always wore your jersey under my jacket.”
My eyebrows bounce. That’s news to me. “You loved it when your mom made macaroni and cheese.”
“You always stole the carrots off my plate.”
“They’re good for eyesight.”
She tips her head back with laughter. When she squares her chin, I capture her gaze and then drop my attention to her lips.
She nods, almost imperceptibly.
I kiss her, cutting off her rambling, tasting chocolate and peppermint and promise. When I pull back, her eyes are shining.
“Not too fast,” I say. “Not too soon. Just right.”
Pookie grunts between us, clearly annoyed at being squished, and we both laugh.
After dessert, we migrate back to where everything started—the fireplace in the main lobby. The fire crackles and pops. Outside the window, the snow falls gently, adding to the already impressive accumulation.
We settle onto the same couch where we sat two days ago with our first hot chocolate, except now Rebecca is tucked against my side. My arm wraps around her shoulders and her head rests in the perfect nook beneath my chin.
“I can’t believe that only a day ago,” she starts and stops.
“Right here.”
“You chasing my dog. Me in that sparkly dress.”
“Best chase of my career.”
She tilts her head to look up at me. “I need to tell you about my plans. Real plans, not just ‘I’m moving to Huckleberry Hill’ plans.”
My throat constricts. “I’m listening.”
“I’ll stay here tonight, then go home to my parents and Brady’s family.
I want to see Ruthie, spend time with her and the boys.
Be the aunt I should’ve been all along.” Her voice wavers slightly.
“I’ll visit with Mom and Dad. They were always so supportive and where have I been?
Absent. Then I’ll do the New Year’s concert.
It’ll be my last big show, and I’ll announce my retirement from touring. ”
“Will you miss it? The crowds, the stadiums, the excitement?”
“I’ll miss connecting with fans who love the music. But I can do that in other ways. Smaller venues. Intimate shows. Get back to writing music again.” She pauses. “I want to record an album on my own terms. Real songs about real things, not whatever some producer thinks will trend on social media.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Maybe I can find a cute cottage near the old firehouse.” She’s talking faster now, excited. “A place with a fireplace and a small yard for Pookie. I’m thinking of a cozy space. A piano …”
“Near Crush Cakes?” My chest squeezes.
“If there is something available.”
I tighten my arm around her, not wanting to let her go, but knowing she’ll be back.
She peers up at me. “Will you come to the New Year’s concert? I want you there when I make the announcement. I want to look out and see your face and know I’m making the right choice.”
“Not even a polar vortex blizzard could keep me away.” I pause. “Maybe the whole crew can come. Hayes would love it if we made him attend in full turnout gear.”
She laughs. “I’d expect nothing less.”
We watch the fire for a beat as other guests drift past, heading to their rooms, calling out soft “Merry Christmas” wishes. The grand tree lights twinkle in the lobby, the star shining bright at the top.
“You know what we’re doing, don’t you?” Rebecca says eventually.
“What’s that?”
“Kindling Kissmas.”
I groan and chuckle at the same time.
“Too much?”
“It’s terribly wonderful.”
She snuggles against me. “You love it.”
“I love you.” The words tumble out as naturally as can be.
“I love you too.” She adjusts to face me properly. “Thank you for chasing my dog. For staying. For making me remember what Christmas—what life—is supposed to feel like.”
“Thank you for throwing your phone out the window and ending up here.”
“Best breakdown I ever had.”
I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs tracing her cheekbones. “Merry Christmas, Becca.”
“Merry Christmas, Reese.”