Chapter 19
CALEB
I drive straight to Mayfield from the city, heading for Blissful Bites Bakery to take my girl out. The shop is exactly what I’d picture for Holly’s business, the pink cottage exuding her signature charm and style.
“Sorry, man. We’re about to clo—Oh. Hey, Caleb.” Leo relaxes behind the counter when I enter. “What’s up? What are you doing in Mayfield?”
“I’m here to see Holly,” I say.
“She’s in the back,” Leo says. “Through that door.”
I nod gratefully when he lets me head for the kitchen. Pausing on the threshold, a soft smile tugs at my lips at the sight of her.
She’s laser focused on her work. Her pink hair is swept up in two buns wrapped with thin red bows, and she has another one of her brightly festive aprons on, this one covered in a gingerbread men pattern. Her lip is caught between her teeth as she decorates a set of champagne bottle cookies.
We’ve only been apart for a little over a day, yet my heart thuds as if it was far longer. I rub my chest and exhale in contentment.
“Hi,” I murmur.
Holly freezes. Her gaze rakes over me, lips parting.
I grin, smoothing a hand down my dress shirt. “Do you like the suit?”
She nods, dazed. “Um, yes. Like, a lot.” She licks her lips, hastily setting her piping bag aside and dusting flour from her apron. “You look… Wow.”
“Wow, huh.” I can’t wipe the broad smile off my face at seeing her so speechless. “Noted.”
“Did you come right here from the city?” she asks.
“You bet. I didn’t want to be late to pick you up for our date.”
I saunter to her, lacing my fingers behind her back and giving her a kiss. She sways into me, then breaks away.
“Wait, I don’t want to get your nice suit all dirty. I’m a mess.” She checks the time. “The bakery should be closing up. I got wrapped up in working on these because they’re being picked up next week. Can you give me a little bit to get ready?”
“You’re not a mess. Take all the time you need.”
She ducks through the door to talk to her brother, then blurs past me on her way out the back door. An invisible tether permanently looped around my heart tugs with the desire to follow her.
Instead, I hang in the kitchen and take care of the stuff waiting to be washed in the sink. Folding my suit jacket over a stool, I roll my sleeves up and borrow one of her aprons.
Leo’s steps falter behind me when he finds me scrubbing mixing bowls clean. “I was supposed to do that.”
I shrug. “I’m waiting for your sister anyway. I’ve got it.”
“Okay. Thanks.” He busies himself with storing the cookies Holly was working on.
We work as a team, prepping the bakery for a new day tomorrow.
By the time Holly comes back, we’ve finished.
I’ve got her brother cracking up over a story of how I ended up getting talked into a beer league game for an old teammate’s charity event, but got thrown out of the game for tussling with the mascot when he mistook me for his rival from college.
She pauses in the door, surveying the clean kitchen and row of packaged cookies in a basket labeled with the customer’s order sheet.
My story cuts off mid-sentence. I’m awestruck by her.
The velvet red dress fits to her curves, flaring out from her waist and falling to her knees. The neckline dips into a point, giving me a tantalizing peek of her cleavage. Her pink hair falls in loose curls, partially pulled back by a sage green bow.
“Wow,” I rasp.
She blushes, tucking a curled lock of hair behind her ear. Leo looks between us, popping off the stool.
He fist bumps his sister. “Later.”
She admires my forearms. “It looks great in here. Did you help Leo clean up?”
“Yes. You’re the one that looks great.” I catch her by the waist, thumbs caressing the soft material of her dress. “Ready to go? I made a reservation.”
“You did?” She gives me a pleased smile. “Where?”
“There’s an inn that had a special winter three-course dinner. I thought you might like it.”
Her eyes widen in delight. “The Silver Bell Inn? It’s so hard to get a table for their holiday dinners! I’ve been trying for months because their desserts are to die for.”
It was hard to get the reservation. I convinced the concierge to contact the other couple who reserved the table to let them know I wanted to buy them dinner at the most expensive steakhouse in Mayfield. To my relief, they accepted and relinquished their reservation slot to me.
The corner of my mouth lifts. “So I did good, then?”
She smooths her palms up my chest and grabs my shirt collar to pull me down to her level. “You did excellent.”
Pressing on tiptoe, she kisses me. My embrace tightens.
When we part, I get my suit jacket and rest my hand on the small of her back on our way out. Everything I want to say to her is ready to spill out of me.
The picturesque inn is decorated like a postcard for the holidays with garlands of pine on the grand porch railings and twinkling lights. Holly releases a tiny excited squeal as I escort her up the steps.
“Look at that.” She points above us. “We’re under the mistletoe.”
I don’t need the excuse of mistletoe to kiss her, but I take it anyway because of the way she’s smiling up at the decorative floral bundle hanging above us. Time stops existing as we kiss, slowly and full of burning passion.
She keeps her eyes closed, smiling when I pull back. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed under the mistletoe before.”
“Are you a whole new woman?”
“I might be. How’s my hair look?” She poses.
“You’re beautiful,” I murmur.
Her gaze softens. I treasure her reaction, wanting to make her happy like this all the time.
Inside, we’re promptly guided through the intimate rooms set up for diners to our table in a glass conservatory with only two other couples seated.
Holly gasps in amazement. “This is gorgeous!”
I pull her chair out for her, kissing the top of her head once she’s scooted in. “Are you warm enough?”
She nods, reading over the menu. “Oh my god, this all sounds delicious. What entree do you think you want out of the three choices we get?”
“Whichever one you want to try. I’ll get anything that sounds good to you so you can taste as much as you’d like.”
She bites her lip around a pleased smile. “Picking your meal just so I can taste it? You’re a real romantic, you know that?”
“Anything for you,” I remind her softly.
She makes our wine selection based on the dishes she wants to try. While she’s using the restroom, I hand our waiter my credit card and let him know we’d like everything on the menu and cost doesn’t matter.
Holly has no idea until all of the options are brought to us. “We didn’t order yet.”
“I ordered one of everything so we don’t have to pick,” I explain once the waiter leaves.
Her mouth pops open, then she ducks with a glowing smile. “A girl could get used to this princess treatment.”
“Good. You should, because you deserve to be cherished.” I pick a plate of seared scallops and offer her a bite first.
Her sparkling eyes lock with mine as her lips wrap around my fork. The corners of her eyes crinkle and she hums with a happy little dance that sends a rush of tenderness through me.
“Good?”
“Yes. Here, you have to try it,” she gushes, feeding me a taste.
I hold her eager gaze and accept it. The scallop melts on my tongue.
“Damn, that is nice.”
We sample everything, going back for seconds of our favorites. I thoroughly enjoy seeing her having a good time indulging in the decadent flavors of our meal. As we eat, I tell her about my meeting with the Mavericks.
“Wait, the team will be based in Mayfield?” She gapes at me.
“They didn’t tell me until today.”
“So you’ll be here,” she says in wonder.
“Right where I want to be—with you.”
Her eyes shine. I’m lost in the brilliance of them.
By the time we’re done with the main course, she sits back and pats her stomach. We have the conservatory to ourselves after the other two couples finished their meals.
“I’m most excited for the dessert, but I need a breather.”
I chuckle, refilling her wine glass first, then mine. “Is she admitting defeat?”
Her lips twitch. “Never. There’s always room for dessert.”
The lull is the opening I’ve been waiting all night for. She asked me at the cabin if she could read the note on my phone with the messages I’ve saved but never sent her. I slide my phone across the table with it open so she can read every word.
“What’s this?” She leans forward, eyes flitting across my screen with recognition. “Oh.”
“You wanted to know what I wrote to you about.” I reach for her hand, covering it with mine as she reads.
A shaky breath tinged with emotion escapes her. She presses her fingers to her lips, her eyes growing misty with unshed tears.
“Caleb.” Her whisper encompasses so much—her sentimental reaction, her surprise, her affection for me.
The contents are permanently etched in my mind from my loneliest nights to drunken confessions.
Where are you right now? I’m in Boston. Thinking about driving to you after my game ends. Do you ever think of me? You’re on my mind constantly.
A few of my teammates are partying next door with the women they picked up at the bar but I’m in my room alone. I just want to be holding you. I don’t want anyone else.
I miss you so fucking much some days I think it’s going to eat me alive.
Line after countless line: I miss you.
My thumb strokes her hand, swallowing thickly. “I should’ve had the courage to continue chasing you. Should’ve sent you these messages and fought for you the way I wanted to. Maybe then we could’ve been here sooner.”
The gruff admission causes a tear to drop down her cheek. I swipe it away and she leans into my palm.
“I’m not making that mistake now. I’ll chase you with everything I have, because I don’t want to let you go again. You’re it for me. Always have been.” I gaze into her beautiful eyes and pour my heart out for her. “I love you, Holly. If you’re not there yet, that’s fine by me. I’ll wai—”
“I love you, too,” she interrupts in a rush with a wet laugh. “I’m hopelessly gone for you.”
My chest swells, the force of it almost knocking me out of my chair. She’s made me the happiest damn man in the world.
Astounded by the woman I want to be my wife, I tell her, “I only want a future that has you in it.”
Sniffling, she murmurs, “I want that, too. Even if it feels fast, I can’t imagine not being with you.”
I keep it to myself for the time being that I’m ready to marry her on the spot if anyone in the restaurant is registered as an officiant.
Lifting her hand to brush with my lips, I wink. “We’re not moving fast, sugar. We’re catching up.”
Holly’s no longer the one who got away. She’s mine again at last. The cabin was our do over. We’ve earned our second chance.