Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
That night at seven p.m., the rumble of a diesel truck announced Brice’s arrival. Jade looked out the bakery window to see him backing up to the curb, the truck bed piled high with fresh-cut pine boughs that filled the air with their crisp, resinous scent.
Brice climbed out of the driver’s side, brushing pine needles off his flannel shirt. Leo jumped out of the passenger side.
“Jade Bennett,” Brice called when he spotted her. “Back in town and still causing trouble?”
“Only the good kind,” Jade said, stepping outside. The December air was sharp and clean, carrying the scent of pine. “Brice Matthews. It’s been forever.”
She hugged Brice, then glanced toward Leo, who was already hauling a bundle of branches off the truck bed.
“You took over the tree farm?” she asked, nodding toward the load of pine.
“After Dad died,” Brice said with a shrug. “Figured someone had to keep it running. It’s work, but I like it.”
“They’re beautiful,” Jade said, running her hand along a particularly lush branch. “How much do I owe you?”
“Free of charge—for an old friend,” Brice said, brushing it off. “Besides, Leo said you needed the real deal to satisfy Cecily Glick’s sensibilities.”
Before Jade could answer, Felicity came striding up the sidewalk, a cardboard carrier in one hand.
“Pumpkin chai lattes for everyone,” she announced, setting them down before clapping her hands together at the sight of the pine.
“Oh, Brice, these are gorgeous. I can already see how this is going to look.”
She took a sip of her latte, her decorator’s eye already at work. “We’ll need to remove the old garland first, obviously. Then drape these in natural swoops—nothing too formal. Brice, do you have wire?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brice said with an amused salute. “Got a whole toolkit in the truck.”
“And Leo, you’re tall enough to reach the high spots without a ladder, right? Though we should probably use one for safety—”
“Fee,” Leo cut in gently. “Breathe. We’ve got this.”
Felicity paused, then laughed. “Sorry. I get a little intense.”
“A little,” Brice teased. “Remember junior year when you reorganized the entire homecoming dance because the colors clashed?”
“They did clash!” Felicity said. “Blue and orange streamers with plaid tablecloths? Brutal.”
Brice groaned. “Don’t forget when you coached me through asking Sarah Manning out. You even coordinated my outfit.”
Jade blinked. “You did?”
“He was wearing clashing colors,” Felicity said, hands on her hips. “It was flannel plaid, but still. Couldn’t let him go down like that.”
Brice rolled his eyes but grinned. “She made me rehearse what to say, too. Wingman of the year.”
“And it worked,” Felicity said smugly. “Two years of dating, you’re welcome.”
Jade laughed, warmth stirring in her chest as she watched them all slip back into the kind of easy banter that only came from years of friendship.
She realized how much she’d missed that—how, while she’d been away, the three of them had stayed close.
She didn’t have anyone close like that in the city.
They worked together for the next hour, Leo and Brice handling the heavy lifting while Felicity directed with the precision of a general, her enthusiasm infectious rather than bossy.
“You know,” Brice said as he tied off a branch, “this reminds me of decorating for winter formal senior year. Remember that disaster?”
“Oh jeez,” Felicity groaned. “The year the committee decided on a ‘winter wonderland’ theme?”
“What happened?” Jade asked, though she had a vague memory of chaos.
“They used shredded paper for fake snow,” Leo said. “Looked fine until people started dancing and the AC kicked in.”
“It was a blizzard,” Jade said, the memory rushing back. “You couldn’t see three feet, and everyone was slipping.”
“I spent half the night in the coat closet with a shop vac,” Felicity added. “That’s when I swore never again to leave important decorating to amateurs.”
“I remember hiding in the bathroom,” Jade admitted. “My dress was covered in paper bits. My hair looked like I’d rolled in a snowbank.”
“That’s right,” Leo said, his voice quieter. “You wore that aqua dress.”
The comment hung in the air, heavier than he probably intended. Jade felt heat creep up her neck at the memory.
Felicity, sensing it, jumped in brightly. “And that’s why I became a professional decorator. Presentation matters.”
Brice chuckled. “Sure. My truck looks fine, though.”
“Your truck looks like it’s held together with duct tape and prayer,” Felicity shot back.
“Duct tape’s a perfectly valid repair method,” Brice said. “Right, Leo?”
“Don’t drag me into this,” Leo replied, but he was smiling.
Jade stood back for a moment, watching them trade barbs, laughter in the cold night air. This was the Leo she remembered—relaxed, unguarded, part of a group that fit together effortlessly. And she realized how much she’d missed being part of that.
When the last ribbon was tied, the bakery front looked festive and authentic enough even for Cecily.
“It’s perfect,” Jade said, meaning it. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done this alone.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Felicity said, handing her a steaming latte.
“Speaking of friends,” Brice said, loading the old garland into the truck, “Leo mentioned you’re planning a trial run tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow evening,” Jade confirmed.
“Wish I could help out, but that’s a busy night on the tree lot,” Brice said.
“Well, I’m definitely coming,” Felicity said. “Promotional gold. And I want to see the reindeer in action.”
“It’s not going to be anything fancy,” Jade warned. “Just a run-through to work out the kinks.”
“The best events always start that way,” Felicity replied.
As they cleaned up the pine needles and packed away the tools, Jade felt a sense of optimism she hadn’t experienced since arriving in Frost Pine Ridge.
The bakery looked beautiful, the festival plans were coming together, and she was surrounded by people who seemed genuinely invested in helping her succeed.
“Six tomorrow?” Leo asked as Brice loaded the last of the tools into his truck.
“Absolutely,” Jade replied. “And thank you again. All of you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Brice glanced at Leo. “You need a ride?”
Leo shook his head. “Nope, I’ll walk around out back. Need to check on the reindeer, make sure Vixen hasn’t escaped.”
After Brice drove away and Felicity headed home, Leo lingered on the sidewalk, looking up at their handiwork. The pine garland caught the light from the street lamps, and the red ribbons fluttered gently in the evening breeze.
“It really does look good,” he said.
“It does,” Jade agreed. “And it smells amazing. Every time someone walks by, they’re going to smell Christmas.”
They stood there for a moment in comfortable silence, the winter air crisp around them.
Above, the first stars were beginning to appear in the darkening sky, and the warm light spilling from the bakery windows created a golden glow on the snow-dusted sidewalk.
The scene was almost achingly perfect—the kind of Christmas card moment that made you believe in magic.
“So, see you tomorrow at six?” Leo asked, his voice softer than usual.
“Tomorrow at six,” she confirmed, aware that they were standing closer than they had been a moment ago. “Weather permitting.”
“Weather permitting,” Leo agreed. His eyes caught the light from the bakery windows, and for a moment Jade thought he might say something else, something that had nothing to do with festival logistics.
Instead, he took a small step back. “I should head home. Early morning .”
“Of course,” Jade said, trying to ignore the flutter of disappointment in her chest. “Good night, Leo.”
“Good night.”
She watched him walk away, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets, his breath visible in small puffs in the cold air.
At the corner where the path split toward his farm, he stopped and turned back.
For a moment they just looked at each other across the distance, the space between them charged with possibility.
Jade lifted her hand in a small wave. Leo returned it, then stood there for another heartbeat, as if he might change his mind and come back.
Instead, he turned and continued toward the farm, disappearing into the darkness beyond the streetlights.
Jade remained on the sidewalk for a long moment, surrounded by the scent of pine and the soft glow of Christmas lights, her heart beating just a little faster than the cold air warranted.