Chapter 24
Mark left Grace Community Church on Christmas Eve with one truth sitting so heavy in his chest that he could not carry it home and pretend it would wait until morning.
He loved Natalie Winters.
It was not a new realization, but he couldn’t keep reaching for his phone and stopping himself from texting again because he did not want to push her or make her feel cornered.
His father had been right. Trying not to want something could wear a man down just as much as wanting it.
Mark stood near his truck in the church parking lot while families spilled into the cool night around him, children carrying candles, parents gathering coats, voices soft with the hush that followed carols and Scripture.
Then, he saw Natalie across the lot with Aunt Eleanor, Bethany Ruiz, and Anna Sanford.
The light from the church windows caught in her hair, and she looked tired, tender, and brave.
Then Aunt Eleanor looked straight at him. She gave the smallest nod toward Main Street, as if she had been expecting him to finally become useful.
Mark almost laughed.
He drove to Winter Wishes before he could talk himself out of it.
The shop was dark inside except for the glow of the window displays, but the upstairs apartment held a soft light behind the curtains.
Outside, the Christmas lights still framed the awning, wrapped the lampposts, and shimmered along the garland Natalie had insisted should look welcoming rather than smug.
The bows he had helped hang earlier in December lifted slightly in the breeze.
He parked, climbed out, and stood beneath those lights with his hat in his hands.
A few minutes later, Natalie’s truck turned onto Main Street.
His pulse kicked hard.
She parked along the curb in front of the shop, beneath the windows of the apartment waiting above it.
Her aunt and Bethany piled out of the truck first.
“I need some tea,” Aunt Eleanor declared. “Bethany, you know where it is, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.” Bethany lifted her eyebrows at Mark, almost like a dare, and the two of them headed toward the shop, no doubt going up to Natalie’s apartment.
Mark gulped. At least they were giving him and Natalie some space, but he should’ve texted to see if she had any plans, or maybe he should’ve just approached her in the church parking lot, but considering he hadn’t wanted an audience, coming here had seemed smart.
He hoped it was smart.
He watched the two clearly scheming women approach the shop’s door. Aunt Eleanor was already unlocking the door, clearly in possession of a spare key, which suddenly seemed far too convenient.
After a moment, Natalie finally opened her door and stepped out, her coat wrapped tight around her dress from the Christmas Eve service. Her gaze moved from him to the lights above Winter Wishes then briefly to the glowing upstairs windows, and back again.
“Mark,” she said softly.
“I know it’s late. Your aunt… It sounds like she urgently needs tea.”
“Please. It sounded suspicious.” Natalie’s mouth trembled into almost a smile. “Have you talked with her lately?”
“Not really.” Mark shifted his hat in his hands. “I saw her earlier, though, in the parking lot, and I think she talked to me without words.”
“She’s good at that.” Natalie looked down. “I’m sorry I lied.”
“I’m sorry I let the truth come out in a way that hurt you.”
“You told the truth.”
“At the wrong time.” He took one step closer, careful not to crowd her. “And not enough of it.”
Her eyes lifted to his, and she furrowed her brow.
Mark drew in a slow breath. He had repaired machinery with less fear than this. He had faced storms, loose cattle, broken equipment, and the sharp end of his brothers’ teasing. None of it had prepared him for standing beneath Christmas lights with the woman he loved and no shield left between them.
“The truth is, I don’t want to pretend anymore,” he said.
“Not because the town knows. Not because your aunt suspects. Not because it’s easier for my family or yours or anyone else.
I don’t want to pretend because along the way, pretending became lying for me.
You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. ”
Natalie’s breath caught.
“I thought I was protecting myself after Jenna,” he continued.
“Maybe I was for a while, but eventually, that protection turned into hiding. Then you came along with your clipboard, your impossible ribbon standards, and mistletoe I wanted to use as an excuse to kiss you.” He drew in a rough breath.
“But I don’t want excuses. I just want you. ”
Her eyes shone in the glow from the lights.
“I love you, Natalie.” Mark paused, startled by how freeing the words felt once they were finally out.
He grinned broadly. “I love you,” he repeated.
“I love the way you make ordinary things beautiful. I love that you notice people who think no one sees them. I love your laugh, your stubbornness, your cinnamon-roll emergency plans, and the way you keep choosing brightness even when life has given you reasons not to.” He swallowed, his grip tightening around his hat.
“I don’t want you as a shield. I don’t want you as a rumor. I don’t want temporary. I want real.”
Natalie pressed one hand to her mouth, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Mark lowered himself to one knee.
Her eyes widened. “Mark…”
“I’m not asking you to marry me tonight,” he said quickly, and a breathless laugh broke through her tears.
“Not because I don’t want forever. I do.
That’s the problem. I want it enough not to rush past the part where we build it right.
” He held up his hand, empty of any ring, because that mattered too.
“So this is my proposal. No more rules. No more pretending. No using each other to hide from loneliness or pity or fear. Let me date you for real. Let me take you to dinner. You can pick if I sit next to you or across from you. Let me hold your hand. Let me kiss you. Let me love you openly, and when the time is right, if God leads us there, I’ll kneel again with a ring. ”
Natalie was crying fully now, but she was smiling too.
Mark looked up at her, heart bare and terrified and more certain than he had ever been. “Natalie Winters, will you be mine for real?”
She let out a laugh that sounded like joy breaking through pain. “Yes.”
He rose, and she came into his arms before he could ask. He held her beneath the Christmas lights outside Winter Wishes, one hand at her back, the other cradling her hair as she laughed and cried against his chest.
After a moment, she pulled back just enough to look at him. “Can we just go ahead and break the last rule from our previous arrangement already?”
His heart skipped a beat. “Which rule?”
Natalie’s gaze flicked to his mouth. “No kisses.”
Mark smiled, slow and helpless. “I can honor that.”
Then he kissed her beneath the lights, and this time, nothing interrupted them.