Chapter Two #2
"Nancy ordered 'em special a while back," he announced with unexpected cheer. "Said even old legs deserve fancy skivvies."
Even Eve was laughing, clapping along with everyone else as Earl took an exaggerated bow before returning to his drink, visibly lighter than before.
For my second stocking, I knew exactly what I wanted. I selected a simple white one with gold trim and walked directly to Eve.
"Your turn," I said, offering it to her.
She hesitated briefly before accepting it with a rueful smile. "I was afraid of this." She pulled out the paper and read aloud: "'Share your most embarrassing Christmas story.'"
"The floor is yours," I said, gesturing toward the room that had quieted in anticipation.
She took a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with the cocktail napkin. "Okay, so this was about six years ago when I was still in college. I was dating this guy who invited me to his family's Christmas dinner."
She shifted on her stool, warming to the story. "They were a huge Italian family—aunts, uncles, cousins, the works. And they were really into their holiday traditions, including this thing where everyone had to sing a Christmas carol solo before dessert."
I leaned against the counter, watching her animation build.
"So there I am, nervous as hell, when my turn comes up. I decide on 'Silent Night' because I figured it's simple enough. Except..." She paused dramatically. "I completely blanked on the lyrics after the first line. Just... nothing."
Several patrons chuckled sympathetically.
"But instead of admitting it, my brain decided the smart move was to just..
. hum the tune. Loudly. While everyone stared.
For what felt like an eternity." Eve covered her face.
"Finally his grandmother took pity on me and started singing along, but by then I was so mortified I knocked over my wine glass.
All over his mother's white tablecloth. And her lap. "
The bar erupted in laughter. Eve's cheeks were pink, but she was laughing too.
"Did you ever get invited back?" I asked.
"Oh, God no. We broke up three months later. To this day, I can't hear 'Silent Night' without having flashbacks."
"Well, you've earned your drink," I said, mixing her a fresh Jack and Ginger. "And you've officially been initiated into the Promise Ridge Christmas catastrophe club."
Our fingers brushed as I handed her the glass. The brief contact sent a jolt through me I hadn't felt in years.
"So," I said, fighting to ignore the sensation, "what do you think of our little town so far?"
"Honestly? I haven't seen much of it." She sipped her drink. "I stayed holed up all day in the Airbnb I’m renting until coming here tonight. Pinecrest Cabin, the property manager calls it."
"I know it. About fifteen minutes out of town, near the Pine Lake trailhead?"
She nodded. "That's the one. It's nice—a good place to get some work done."
"On vacation?" My eyebrow arched.
"Bad habit," she admitted. "Workaholic tendencies."
"Well, you can't come to Promise Ridge and not actually see the Ridge." An idea I'd been mulling since she walked in tonight clicked into place. "There's a holiday market in the town square going on this week. Local crafts, food, the works. You shouldn't miss it."
Eve twirled her glass slowly. "You think it’s really worth it, though?"
"No question. Best market in these parts. I could... show you around, if you want." I hesitated, rubbing the back of my neck. "Our town is basically a hole-in-the-wall, but it does have its charms—especially at Christmas."
She studied me for a long moment, and I braced for polite rejection.
"I'd like that," she finally said. "It sounds fun."
The tension in my shoulders eased. "Great. I can pick you up around noon?"
"Noon works." Her smile transformed her face, reaching her eyes in a way that made something twist beneath my sternum.
A scuffle at the other end of the bar demanded my attention. As I moved away, I called over my shoulder, "You should come back for the Christmas Eve bash, too. Biggest night of the year here."
"Oh?" She raised her voice slightly to be heard over the growing crowd.
"Stocking Pull championship, live music, the works." I poured three beers in quick succession before returning to her end of the bar. "Whole town turns out for it."
"Sounds like something I should see." She tilted her head, considering me. "Actually, I could help you promote it, if you want. Social media, digital flyers—it's what I do."
"Seriously?" I hadn't expected that. "You don't have to work during your vacation."
"It hardly counts as work when I enjoy it." She pulled out her phone. "Plus, I owe you for the free meal last night and the drink tonight. Consider it payment."
Looking at her now—the designer clothes, perfectly manicured nails, the carefully applied makeup—her profession made perfect sense. She stood out in Promise Ridge like a cardinal in snow, where most women wore flannel and Sorels as evening wear.
I watched her tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, noticed the slight dimple that appeared when she smiled.
Something about her pulled at me, but I hesitated.
I hadn't dated since moving to Promise Ridge.
My last relationship ended when Lydia left after one too many nights of my PTSD episodes.
'Too broken,' she'd called me, as if trauma was something that should have healed faster.
The years since had thankfully healed more than I'd expected. The nightmares came less frequently. I no longer hit the deck when a car backfired. But I still kept people at arm's length, especially women. However, something about Eve made the walls I’d carefully built up feel suddenly paper-thin.
We'd barely met. Yet I couldn't ignore the way she drew me in, like a trail I hadn't planned to follow but couldn't resist exploring.
"We could definitely use the extra business," I said, accepting her offer. "That's really generous."
"I might as well put my skills to good use while I’m here." Her smile turned teasing. "Consider it my small contribution to the local holiday spirit."
"Then it's settled." I extended my hand across the bar. "Partners for the Christmas Eve bash."
She took my hand, and something electric passed between us, setting off every warning I'd been trained to heed—and making me want to ignore every one.
"Partners," she replied, the word suddenly feeling like more than just business.
"Noon tomorrow?" she confirmed, sliding off the barstool and gathering her coat.
"Noon tomorrow," I repeated, already anticipating it more than I had any right to.
As she walked out the door with a small wave, Sam appeared at my elbow.
"Careful there, boss," he said quietly. "Your poker face is slipping."
I turned to find him grinning knowingly at me.
"Don't you have dishes to wash?" I grumbled.
"Just calling it like I see it."
I turned back to my customers. But I was already planning tomorrow.