Chapter Sixteen Sleighbells #2
“Dex is still traumatized,” I said, warmth spreading through me from his laughter.
Braxton’s smile widened. “I noticed.”
The sleigh passed the café again, and the door opened. The wedding party spilled out in a cheerful wave of noise, scarves half-fastened, cheeks flushed from cold and excitement. Someone spotted us immediately.
“Jane,” a bridesmaid called. “Is this a date?”
I froze for half a second. My instinct was to duck my head and pretend I had not heard.
Braxton answered calmly, voice steady. “Yes.”
A beat of silence, then the bridesmaids cheered softly, trying not to disrupt the sleigh. One of the groomsmen lifted his cup in salute. Another shouted, “About time,” which made me laugh despite myself.
Braxton glanced at me. “Was that okay?”
“Yes,” I said, and it surprised me how true it felt. “It was.”
The sleigh ride ended too soon. We stepped down, lingering just a little before the driver moved on. My cheeks felt warm despite the cold, my thoughts pleasantly scattered.
We started walking again, the night quieter now, the town lights softer.
Braxton looked at me. “Do you want to keep walking or go back?”
“I want to keep walking,” I said. “I don’t want to go back just yet.”
He nodded, like he understood exactly what I meant.
We turned down a street lined with smaller houses, porch lights glowing, wreaths hung on doors. Snow fell lightly again, catching in my hair and on Braxton’s shoulders.
Dad and Mom appeared around the corner, bundled in coats, walking at a comfortable pace, arm in arm.
When she saw us, her face lit up immediately. “There you are.”
Dad smiled, the quiet, approving kind. “Evening.”
“Hello,” I said, warmth spreading in my chest. Being seen like this should have made me nervous, yet I wasn’t.
Mom studied me with the expression of a mother assessing whether her child was eating enough and sleeping enough and also whether their heart was intact. “You look happy,” she said.
“I am,” I replied, surprised by how easily the word came.
“He is very nice,” she told me as if Braxton were not standing right there.
Braxton blinked. “Thank you.”
Mom sighed, dramatic in the way only Mom could be when she was both sincere and slightly theatrical. “Of course, it would have been exciting to have a television star in the family.”
I felt my stomach drop..
Dad gave her a look of warning. “Helen.”
She waved a hand quickly. “I’m not saying I wanted that. I’m saying it would have been exciting.”
Dad’s voice was gentle but firm. “It’s better to have Jane happy.”
Helen paused. Her expression softened. “Yes, that’s true.”
She squeezed my arm. “Enjoy your evening. You deserve it.”
I swallowed past the sudden tightness in my throat. “Thank you.”
Braxton shifted slightly closer to me, not touching, just near enough that I felt supported.
Dad nodded once, then looked at Braxton. “Take care of her.”
Braxton didn't hesitate. “I will.”
When they walked away, Braxton exhaled slowly. “That felt like an inspection.”
I laughed. “You passed.”
We walked a few more steps, and I realized my hands were cold again. Braxton noticed without me saying anything.
He offered his scarf. “Here.”
I hesitated. “You will be cold.”
“I will survive,” he said.
I took it and wrapped it around my neck. It smelled faintly like winter air and something clean, and it made me feel oddly safe. “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “I like solving problems.”
“I’m not a problem,” I said, then winced because it sounded more defensive than I meant.
Braxton stopped walking. He turned slightly toward me. “Jane,” he said quietly, “I didn't mean you are a problem. I meant I like making things easier for you.”
I couldn’t fault him for that. “Okay. I like that.”
He smiled. “Good.”
The town grew quieter as the event wound down and we made our way back to the inn. Once again, Braxton got the door for me and we stood in the lobby, reluctant to let the evening end.
“I am glad we did this,” he said.
“So am I,” I replied.
He looked at me, expression open. “I want you to know I am not here for the novelty of the inn or the chaos of a wedding week. I am here because… you matter to me.”
My breath caught. I forced myself to hold his gaze, not to look away when my emotions rose too quickly.
“I’m not very good at believing people mean what they say,” I admitted.
He nodded. “I know.”
“And I’m not good at trusting my own judgment,” I added.
Braxton’s voice softened. “We can work on that together.”
I felt tears prick at my eyes, annoying and inconvenient, but I blinked them back. “I would like that.”
He stood close, not touching, giving me space to choose. I appreciated that more than I could explain.
I took a breath and let myself say what had been sitting in my chest all night. “I had fun.”
His smile widened, genuine. “Me too.”
We stood there a moment longer, and the silence felt comfortable, like it belonged to us. He hesitated, then reached out and lightly touched my hand, brief and careful. It wasn’t a kiss. It was something steadier. A promise without pressure.
I smiled up at him. “Goodnight, Braxton.”
“Goodnight, Jane,” he said.
I went to the pool house feeling warmer than my sweater had any right to make me. When I climbed into bed beside Lucy, she rolled over and squinted at me.
“Well,” she murmured. “Did you get a kiss?”
I buried my face in the pillow to hide my smile. “Go to sleep.”
Lucy made a pleased sound and turned away.
In the dark, with the inn quieting around us, I let myself hold the truth gently, like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold night.
I wasn't waiting anymore. I was choosing.