Chapter 5
Chapter Five
NOELLE
The Christmas Fair is packed out, and I'm running on three hours of sleep, four coffees, and pure adrenaline. Running away after kissing Gabriel wasn’t my smartest move and I couldn’t sleep last night.
The town square has twinkle lights on every surface and an enormous Christmas tree at its center. My booth is just a folding table with a red tablecloth squeezed between the Candy Cabin booth and a table selling knitted sea creature Christmas ornaments.
“Are these the Christmas Dinner Melts from TikTok?” A woman in a furry coat holds up her phone.
“Um…yes, that’s right! Would you like…”
“What’s in these?”
“Um, these are Santa’s Midnight Snacks. Roast beef, horseradish cream, caramelized onions, and arugula on ciabatta. And these are triple-decker turkey, bacon, cranberry mayo, lettuce, and tomato. I call them the North Pole Club.”
She's already taking photos. “My daughter in Bakersville sent me your video. She says we have to try them.”
My video? I reach for my phone to check, then remember it's propped against the cash box. The videos I’ve been posting are silly, showing me assembling sandwiches to Christmas music while dancing around.
“I'll take all three,” she says, and suddenly there's a line.
Dad doesn't even know I'm here. He's at the diner for the lunch prep while Mom rests at her sister's. I told him I was running errands.
I'm down to my last couple of sandwiches when that chaotic dog with reindeer antlers appears and crashes into my table. Samples fly and I slip on a patch of ice trying to grab them. I'm falling backward when strong arms catch me.
“Got you,” Gabriel says against my ear and a thrill runs down my spine. I haven't seen him since I kissed him and ran away. He steadies me, hands warm on my waist.
“The sandwiches!”
We scramble to save what we can. Our hands collide as I’m reaching for the cash box, and electricity shoots through to my core.
“Noelle—”
“That damn dog! He nearly knocked me over,” Avery appears, her Christmas sweater blinking. She looks between us. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” I say.
“Yes,” Gabriel says, grinning down at me.
Avery's eyes light up. “Well, well…wait, Noelle, is this you?” She holds up her phone, showing a TikTok video. “This has like five hundred thousand views! The comments are all asking where to find these sandwiches. I added a comment and said it was Jolly’s Diner.”
“Five thousand?”
“No, five hundred thousand. Oh… holy holiday hotcakes, take a look at this.” She scrolls frantically. "People are tagging themselves at Jolly's Diner right now. There's a line out the door!"
“What?” I grab her phone. “My dad's there alone. He doesn't even know about the sandwiches. I have to go!”
“Go, I’ll clean up here,” Gabriel says.
“But—”
“Go help your dad.”
I smile gratefully at him and then race to the diner to find Dad behind the counter, looking frazzled but determined. The place is packed. People are taking selfies with the vintage decorations Avery and I put up.
Dad's relief is obvious. “Noelle, thank goodness. They keep asking for your Christmas Dinner Melts. How do they know about them?”
“I'll explain later. Let's cook.”
We fall into the same rhythm we had when I was in high school, before I left for culinary school. Before we started disagreeing about the diner’s future. Dad works the grill while I assemble. He doesn't question my ingredients, just keeps up.
Three hours later, we've served over a hundred sandwiches. We're out of everything. My feet hurt, my back aches, and Dad's leaning against the counter, exhausted but grinning.
“That was incredible. The sandwiches were brilliant, kiddo.”
My throat tightens. “Really?”
“Yes. Maybe I've been too stubborn about changing things.”
The bell above the door chimes. Gabriel walks in, and my heart does its familiar skip.
“Hey. Thought you might want this.” He holds up my phone. “That dog knocked it into the snow.”
“Thanks.”
Dad looks between us. “I should head home. Your mom will want to hear about today.”
After he leaves, it's just Gabriel and me in the empty diner.
“You must be tired,” he says.
"I am." I sink into a booth.
He slides in across from me, then seems to reconsider, coming around to my side instead. “Come home with me.”
“Gabriel—”
“I'll make you dinner. Real dinner. You've been feeding everyone else all day. Let someone else take care of you.”
The way he says it, quiet and certain, undoes my reservations and I nod. “Okay.”
His cabin is warm, all wood beams and a big stone fireplace. Books everywhere. He makes carbonara while I drink wine and admire him.
I taste it and smile. “This is incredible.”
“Good. I was worried about cooking for a chef.”
“You have skills.”
We talk about people from high school, his brother, and I tell him a little about my mind-numbing job testing fake cheese in the city. We fall silent and I can’t stop looking at him.
“Tell me to take you home,” he says quietly.
“I don't want to go home.”
He's around the counter in two strides, kissing me hard. I wrap my legs around his waist as he lifts me onto the counter.
He carries me to his room and sets me on the bed.
“We don't have to…”
I pull him down. “I've wanted this for years. Don't make me wait.”
He pulls off my sweater slowly, eyes never leaving mine. “You're so beautiful.”
“Gabriel…”
“Let me look at you. Do you know how many times I've thought about this?”
I reach for his shirt, pull it over his head. He's all hard muscle and warm skin, a dusting of dark hair across his chest. “How many?”
“Every damn day.” He kisses my neck, finding a spot below my ear that makes me gasp.
He unclasps my bra, thumbs brushing over my nipples until I'm arching into his touch. His mouth follows, breath hot as he sucks each nipple in turn, and I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him there.
“Please—”
“I've got you.” He works his way down my body, unbuttoning my jeans with deliberate slowness. “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”
He pulls my jeans and underwear down in one motion, and then his mouth is on me, and I cry out, hips bucking off the bed. He pins me down with one strong arm across my hips, taking his time, licking and sucking my clit, driving me higher with his tongue and fingers until I'm begging incoherently.
“I need you inside me,” I gasp. “Now, Gabriel, please—”
He rises up, shucking off his jeans. He's gorgeous, thick and hard, and I reach for him, stroking once, twice, before he groans and catches my wrist.
“I’m not going to last if you do that,” he admits, voice rough. “I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time.”
He positions himself at my entrance, eyes locked on mine as his thumb strokes my clit in a steady rhythm. “You sure?”
Instead of answering, I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him forward. He slides inside me in one smooth thrust, and we both moan. He's so big, stretching me perfectly, and I moan.
“Fuck, Noelle. You feel incredible.”
He starts slow, deep strokes that hit exactly right, but I’m greedy for more. He’s holding back, like he’s worried he’ll break me.
“Harder.” I gasp. “Fuck me.”
Something snaps in his control. He hooks my leg over his shoulder, changing the angle, and drives into me hard and fast. The headboard slams against the wall, and I'm making sounds I've never made before, meeting him thrust for thrust.
“That's it,” he growls. “Let me hear you.”
His thumb works my clit, circling in time with his thrusts, and I come hard, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crash over me. He follows immediately, groaning my name as he pulses inside me.
We collapse together and he rolls us so I'm draped across his chest, still inside me, and he twitches when I clench around him.
“Give me five minutes,” he says against my hair, “and we're doing that again.”
"Just five?" I tease, experimentally rolling my hips.
He grins. “Maybe less.”
His mouth meets mine, and I realize we're nowhere near done. After he's taken me in the shower and again bent over his kitchen counter when we ventured out for water, we finally collapse back in bed, thoroughly exhausted.
“Stay tonight,” he whispers, pulling me against his chest.
I should say no. The job interview results are probably in my inbox, right there on the phone he returned to me. I pick up the phone and text Dad, saying I’m staying with a friend tonight. I don’t even check my email. I’m not ready for the real world to shatter this perfect dream.
"Okay."