Chapter Six
LEVI
R achel’s throwing words at me like ‘lost puppy’ and ‘mistletoe’ as the reasons for leaving Holly and Rex’s wedding, but none makes sense.
Thinking back to that night, I clearly remember looking down at her while we were dancing, thinking that I was the luckiest man in the world and that she gave me a chance after all those horrible pick-up lines I had said to her. She looked so beautiful in her bridesmaid dress, her hair in some elaborate up-do. The Christmas lights around the barn made her look like a Christmas princess.
Although the library is a very different setting from a barn, she’s not dressed in an elegant gown, and her long brown hair is down, curling past her shoulders, she still looks like a princess.
Currently an angry princess who looks like she could command an army to war, but still a princess.
“Walk me through this,” I say, lowering my hands, hoping to diffuse the situation. “Start at the mistletoe. What’s that about?”
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, her words coming out quicker than my brain can comprehend, and what seemed to be in one entire breath. “We were dancing, and we ended up under the mistletoe, and you made the joke about the bouquet, and we laughed, and I thought you were going to kiss me, but then you didn’t, and then you disappeared, and so I left because I was humiliated.”
I stand here, blinking at her because I’m not sure what I just heard.
“I didn’t even realize they had mistletoe around the barn that night.”
“But you made the joke…”
I chuckle. “It just popped in my head. It was Christmas Day and all.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders drop, and she looks down at the ground for a moment before whispering. “I guess that’s why.”
“You guess that’s why, what?”
“Why you didn’t kiss me.” She covers her face and makes an exasperated noise.
“Oh, that…” I say.
Rachel drops her hands and looks at me.
No, not looks. She glares at me.
“Yes, that. I mean, it’s not like you were required to kiss me or anything, but we were dancing, and there was the mistletoe…”
“The mistletoe I didn’t know anything about,” I interrupt.
“Apparently,” she mutters. “It’s fine. I mean, you probably didn’t even want to kiss me, anyway.”
I take a step forward, completely entering into her space, and lifting my knuckle under her chin until she looks at me. “Make no mistake, I wanted to kiss you that night.”
“You…you did?” she breathes.
“Yes, I did.” I look deep into her brown eyes and remember just how much I wanted to kiss her that night. Being on the dance floor with her, the lights low with just the draped twinkling lights above us, felt nearly magical. In fact, standing like this, just as close as we were when we were dancing, I want to kiss her now. The twinkling lights have been replaced with harsh LED ones, and the music is hushed tones of the library patrons, but the feeling is the same.
“So…why didn’t you?”
I don’t like the hitch in her breath. I don’t like that she’s spent the last year thinking that I had left her alone after being the one to pursue her. I also really don’t like that she thought that I didn’t want to kiss her, as if spending time with her at the wedding was all just a game. In fact, anger builds up in my chest that I didn’t do enough to prove to her that I wasn’t just being like what I assume all those city guys are like.
“I didn’t kiss you that night because I wasn’t sure that’s what you really wanted,” I admit.
“What I…but I was with you all night.”
“Yes, but the signs weren’t there. You would jokingly brush off any of my compliments, you had sassy responses to my lines…”
“Do you blame me?” she argues with a hint of a smile.
“Well, no, they were horrible and not my usual vibe, but still.”
She lets out a sigh. “So, it was me?”
I release her chin, sweeping the back of my hand along her cheek before brushing her hair behind her ear. “No, it wasn’t you. If I’m honest, I don’t think you knew what you wanted that night, and I wasn’t going to push you. After I couldn’t find you, I thought maybe you were just looking for someone to enjoy the night with. I get it; weddings are lonely when you’re not with someone. But believe me when I tell you, I felt our connection, and hoped for more.”
“So, what do we do now?” she asks .
“Well,” I chuckle, dropping my hand, taking a step back. “We are kinda in the middle of a Love Search. We could very well be chasing other people right now.”
“Search…Right.” She fussed with her hair as she takes a step away from me. “You’re right. I mean, we probably aren’t paired up anyway. I don’t even know why I’m entered. I don’t live in Candy Cane Creek.”
“No, but for now, you’re in Candy Heart Creek,” I joke. “You’re one of us. Plus, it’s not strictly for the residents. We actually had people enter from the surrounding towns, too.”
“Even Gingerbread Grove?” she asks.
I can’t help the horrified look on my face at the mention of that town. “Shh…you can’t say that name around here.”
She leans her head toward me and lowers her voice. “Why are you acting like it’s a town filled with Voldemorts?”
“Christmas-stealing Voldemorts, maybe,” I retort.
“You and your town rivalries.” She rolls her eyes and straightens.
“Look, they started it. But if you’re going to be one of us, even just for the Valentine’s season, you need to know the rules. Rule number one, we don’t talk about… them .”
“Small town Fight Club. Got it. What else?” she asks with a smirk on her face.
I know she’s not taking it seriously, as I’m sure there isn’t anything like this in Vancouver, but she needs to know what she’s walking into, even if it’s only temporary.
“Rule number two. Gingerbreadians do not get involved with Candy Creekers. Ever.”
“No Romeo and Juliet…got it. Anything else?” Her eyebrow raises, and she bites her lip like she’s trying to stifle a laugh.
“Rule three, and the most important… Always be on the lookout for spies.”
“Spies…” she repeats, as if it’s a word she’s never uttered before .
“They’re sneaky, those Gingerbreadians. They come in disguised as people who genuinely want to take part in our events and then…BAM. They have their own knock off.”
“So be on the lookout for Gingerbread people disguised as Christmas-loving people?”
I roll my eyes. “They’re not actually gingerbread people. We aren’t that crazy.”
“Right, no. We wouldn’t want to go so far as to think that gingerbreadians are real gingerbread. But what about redheads? Do they count? Oh my gosh, Holly is a redhead, she’s a ginger, is she a spy!” Rachel whispers excitedly.
“You’re mocking me, aren’t you?” I sigh.
“Maybe a little,” she laughs, holding her hand up with barely any space between her thumb and index finger.
“I can’t believe Holly and Cassie didn’t fill you in on this.”
“I mean, they told me about a rivalry, but they didn’t tell me how serious it was.”
“Oh, it’s serious.”
My hands are clenching without even realizing it. I flex them, trying to relax. I didn’t mean for our conversation to get so intense, especially after she revealed why she’s been so mad at me. I just can’t help it, especially after learning that those Gingerbreadians stole my grandma’s gingerbread recipe and tried to pass it off as their own. I’ll never forgive Trent Rogers and his role in that.
“You two need to either check out a book or take this outside. You’re being disruptive to all these kind people trying to read,” the librarian scolds as she walks up to us.
“Sorry, Marion,” I mutter. “We’re just looking for our clues for the True Love Search.”
“I knew agreeing to being a part of that would be a headache.” She scans the shelves and pulls out a red envelope between two books. “Here.”
I take the paper from her, seeing Rachel’s name written in the same elaborate cursive as the rest of the cards have been. I hand it to Rachel while stifling a laugh.
I feel like we’re about to be sent to the principal’s office.
“I suppose you’re here for one too, Levi?” Marion huffs.
“Yes, ma’am.”
My response gets a snicker out of Rachel and earns us both another stern gaze from the older woman.
“Let’s find this and get both of you out of my library. Kids these days… No respect for the rules,” she mutters as she walks farther down the aisle. “Here.” She pulls out a matching envelope and hands it to me. “Now, if you would kindly read this outside and get on with your day, I would appreciate it. People are trying to read, you know. In silence .”
“Yes, ma’am,” I answer again, this time earning an outright laugh from Rachel.
Marion rolls her eyes and stomps off, leaving us alone, giggling under our breaths.
I’m a grown man. I don’t giggle. Except for getting caught by the librarian apparently.
“Well, I guess I should go,” Rachel says, holding her envelope up. “We wouldn’t want to keep The True Love Search waiting.”
“No, of course not.” I step aside and hold my arm out, motioning for her to go ahead of me. “Let me escort you out of the library, mi’lady.”
She giggles again, drawing another stern look from Marion. “Sorry,” she whispers, holding back more laughter.
I give Marion a salute as I walk out, the smile on my face not lightening her mood in the slightest.
The cold air hits us as we push through the library doors and make our way onto the sidewalk, sending a shiver through my body.
“Maybe I’ll run into you again,” Rachel says, a shy smile on her face. It’s the first time I’ve seen her look at me without hostility since she’s been back, and I like it. It’s almost as if I’m seeing a new side to her.
“Small town, and all,” I joke.
“And the organizers of the search seem to really want us to keep bumping into each other.” She motions with the envelope in her hand.
“Maybe there’s a reason for that.”
For the first time since bumping into her earlier, I wonder if we are matched together for the Search. The clues are supposed to let us get to know our partners better, and so far, the clues themselves haven’t really told me too much. I’m assuming my match likes to read since we were just at the library. That would be something we have in common, but that’s something that I think most people would.
But then I wonder, how do I feel about that? There’s no way the organizers know what happened the night of Holly and Rex’s wedding, especially since Holly herself didn’t even know. I’m also still convinced the matches are just randomized, and no thought was put into who was paired with whom. How could they be? Rachel isn’t even from Candy Cane Creek and didn’t sign herself up, so there’s no way for the organizers to know her likes and dislikes, or what type of person she would be compatible with.
The bigger question should be, do I want her to be my match?
“Well, maybe I’ll see you at our next destination, then,” she says with a smile, making me think that maybe I want to find her name as my match at the end of all this.
“Yeah, maybe you will,” I say back, a lazy smile spreading on my face.
After a final lingering glance, she turns and walks down the street. I can’t help but watch her until she turns the corner towards the town square, still staring at the spot after she’s gone.
With nothing left to do, I open the envelope and read :
This final note is all you’ll find,
So brace yourself—keep an open mind.
One last stop, the barn tonight,
Where your match awaits in candlelight.
Dress your best, don’t hesitate,
The time has come to meet your fate.