Chapter 12 #2
Grant stared at the message, jaw clenched.
Grant: Crystal clear.
Riley: Good. See you tonight for the tree lighting.
Grant: See you tonight.
Grant tossed his phone onto the couch and sat down hard, his head in his hands.
One-time thing.
Just physical.
Getting it out of their systems.
All lies. Every word.
Because nothing about the way he felt was temporary. Nothing about this morning had been just physical. And his system sure as hell wasn't satisfied—if anything, touching Riley again, being with her like that, had only made it worse.
He'd spent ten years getting over Riley Monroe.
And it took one morning to realize he'd never gotten over her at all.
The plan to win her back? It was working. Just not the way he'd intended.
She was leaving after New Year's. Going back to the city, back to her life, back to a future that didn't include him.
Unless he gave her a reason to stay.
But how could he do that when she was so determined to keep this fake? When she was already building walls, already trying to convince herself that what just happened didn't mean anything?
Grant stood and started cleaning up the loft, putting tools away, straightening plans. Normal work. Normal routine.
Except nothing felt normal anymore.
Grant stared at the barn ceiling.
He was in so much trouble.
Because Riley Monroe had just walked out, thinking what they'd shared was temporary, meaningless, just physical.
And Grant had let her go without saying a single word about how wrong she was.
But maybe that was okay.
Maybe actions would speak louder than words.
Riley thought this was a one-time thing? Fine. Grant would show her exactly how wrong she was.
Not by confessing. Not by pressuring her. But by being present. By showing up. By making every moment they had count.
She wanted to keep it fake? He'd give her fake dating that felt so real she wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
Grant climbed down from the loft and headed back to the house. He had work to do before tonight's tree lighting ceremony. The farm didn't run itself, and he'd already lost a good chunk of the morning…
Not that he regretted a single second of it.
By six that evening, Grant was showered, changed, and trying not to think about the fact that he'd see Riley again in less than an hour.
The tree lighting was one of Pine Valley's biggest holiday events—the whole town showed up, there'd be hot chocolate and caroling, and Grant would have to stand next to Riley and pretend like this morning hadn't happened.
Pretend his hands didn't remember the curve of her waist. Pretend he couldn't still taste her on his lips.
Just fake dating. Keep it together.
His phone buzzed.
Riley: Are you still picking me up tonight?
Grant stared at the message. Driving together would mean time alone in the truck. Time to talk, or not talk, or deal with the weird tension that was definitely going to be there after this morning.
But it also meant more time with her.
Grant: Yep. 6:30?
Riley: Perfect. See you soon.
The drive to Riley's house was quiet. Grant kept his eyes on the road, hyper-aware of Riley in the passenger seat, the space between them feeling both too small and too vast.
"So," Riley said finally. "About this morning—"
"We said we wouldn't talk about it."
"I know, but—"
"Riley." Grant glanced at her. "Do we have to do this now?"
She bit her lip. "No. I guess not."
"Good." His hand found hers on the console, lacing their fingers together. "Because I'd rather just enjoy tonight. Can we do that?"
Riley squeezed his hand. "Yeah. We can do that."
By the time they arrived at the town square, the place was packed. String lights crisscrossed overhead, vendors sold hot chocolate and roasted chestnuts, and kids ran around hyped up on sugar and excitement.
Grant kept Riley's hand in his as they navigated through the crowd, nodding at neighbors, accepting congratulations from people who were thrilled to see them "back together."
"This is surreal," Riley muttered.
"Tell me about it."
They found their friends near the front—Hannah and Mark with their kids, Chris and Emily looking flustered as she tried to wrangle her niece and nephew, Ryan and Jenna standing together near the aisle.
"There they are!" Hannah called out, grinning. "We saved you spots."
Grant and Riley squeezed in, and immediately Grant felt the weight of everyone's eyes on them. Curious. Knowing. Like they could all tell what had happened between them that morning.
Get it together. They can't read your mind.
"So," Mark said, leaning close with a smirk. "You two look cozy."
"We're dating," Riley said. "That's kind of the point."
"Yeah, but you look really cozy." Mark's eyes gleamed. "Did something—"
"Mark," Grant warned.
"I'm just saying. There's an energy."
"There's no energy."
"There's definitely energy," Jenna chimed in. "You can't keep your hands off each other."
Grant looked down. His arm was around Riley's waist, her hand resting on his chest. When had that happened?
Riley seemed to realize it at the same time and started to pull away, but Grant tightened his hold.
"Problem?" he murmured.
"No. Just—everyone's staring."
"Let them stare." Grant pulled her closer, ignoring the way his heart was racing. "We're supposed to be together, remember?"
"Right. Together."
The lights dimmed, and the mayor stepped up to the microphone to give his annual speech about community and tradition.
Grant barely heard a word. He was too focused on Riley—the way she leaned into him, the way her hand curled against his chest, the way she tilted her head to whisper something to Hannah.
This morning had changed everything, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
The tree lit up—thousands of lights blinking on at once, turning the gray December evening into something magical. Everyone cheered, and Grant looked down to find Riley staring up at the tree, her face lit with wonder.
God, she was beautiful.
She caught him staring and smiled. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You're looking at me weird."
"I'm not looking at you weird."
"You are."
Grant pulled her closer, lips close to her ear. "Maybe I'm just thinking about this morning."
Riley's breath hitched. "Grant—"
"Can't help it."
"We said—"
"I know what we said." He straightened, his arm still around her waist. "Doesn't mean I can stop thinking about it."
Riley's cheeks went pink, and she looked away quickly, but Grant saw the smile tugging at her lips.
"Want some hot chocolate?" he asked. "I need to warm up."
"It's not that cold."
"Humor me."
They made their way through the crowd to the hot chocolate stand, Grant's hand finding the small of Riley's back. The line was short—most people were still watching the tree—and they ended up at the edge of the square, near the alley between the bookstore and the bakery.
Riley took a sip of her hot chocolate and made a face. "Too hot."
"That's generally how hot chocolate works."
"Smart ass."
Grant set his cup on the nearby ledge and stepped closer. "What was that?"
Riley's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I said you're a smart—"
He kissed her, cutting off whatever insult she'd been about to deliver. Riley made a sound of surprise, then melted into him, her free hand fisting in his jacket.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Riley laughed. "You can't just kiss me every time I insult you."
"Why not? It's working."
"Is it?"
"You're not insulting me anymore."
"Give me a minute." But she was grinning, her eyes bright.
Grant kissed her again, slower this time, deeper. Riley's hot chocolate cup hit the ground—forgotten—as both her hands slid up his chest.
They were half-hidden in the shadows between buildings, the sounds of the celebration muffled, just them and the cold air and the way Riley tasted like chocolate and want.
"We should get back," Riley murmured against his mouth, making no move to pull away.
"Probably."
"People will notice we're gone."
"Let them notice."
Riley's laugh was breathless. "Grant Lawson, are you—"
"Well, well, well!"
They jumped apart like teenagers caught by a teacher.
Mrs. Ames stood at the entrance to the alley, holding her own cup of hot chocolate, eyes wide with delight behind her glasses.
"Mrs. Ames," Grant managed, his heart pounding. "Hi."
"Grant. Riley." Mrs. Ames's smile could have powered the entire town's Christmas lights. "I was just looking for the restroom and happened to see—well." She fanned herself with her free hand. "You two certainly aren't holding back, are you?"
Riley's face went nuclear. "We were just—"
"Oh, honey, I know what you were doing." Mrs. Ames winked. "Young love. It's beautiful. Passionate. Nothing to be ashamed of."
"We should get back," Riley said quickly, grabbing Grant's hand.
"Of course, of course. Don't let me interrupt." Mrs. Ames was still beaming. "Though I must say, this will make an excellent addition to my holiday newsletter. 'Local Couple Rekindles Romance at Tree Lighting.' Has a nice ring to it."
Grant bit back a groan. Mrs. Ames's newsletter went to half the town.
"That's really not necessary—" he started.
"Nonsense! Everyone loves a good love story." Mrs. Ames patted Riley's arm. "Your mother will be thrilled. She's been hoping you two would work things out for years."
With that, Mrs. Ames bustled away, already pulling out her phone—probably to text the news to everyone she knew.
Grant and Riley stood in the alley, staring after her.
"Well," Grant said finally. "That happened."
Riley pressed her hands to her face. "She's going to tell everyone."
"She's definitely going to tell everyone."
"By tomorrow morning, the whole town will know we were making out behind the concessions."
"Probably by tonight, knowing Mrs. Ames."
Riley groaned. "This is mortifying."
Grant pulled her hands away from her face. "Hey. Look at me."
She did, her cheeks still flushed.