Chapter 30
It could just work, Graham thought to himself. Coco was crazy about the place, after all—especially when it came to Brent’s hot cocoa. A celebrity endorsement from a huge name like her could make this place go viral.
He shook himself out of it. Slow your roll there, Graham.
You’re here for one reason and one reason only—keeping Coco Holliday out of the public eye so she doesn’t wreak havoc in the media before her new movie premiere.
Making her the face of Mistletoe Grove’s Christmas comeback couldn’t be further from the job you came here to do.
You’re thinking with your cock again, he reminded himself. Sure, it sucked that Brent would be closing down. But he’d figure something out. And for the meantime, it was in Graham’s best interests to avoid planting any wild ideas inside Coco’s head.
Lord knew she could come up with some real humdingers on her own.
“I wish there was something we could do, Coco,” he placated, “but the fact of the matter is, this town’s glory days are over.”
A beat of silence followed as Coco shrank inward. “I guess I just thought you’d have felt more attached to your home.” She returned her attention to her gingerbread house.
Stammering, Graham searched for a response, but despite his best efforts, no words came. It was as if Coco’s comment had sucked all the air out of the room.
Had he been too quick to cut ties with his home? Mistletoe Grove was, after all, the town that had raised him. Sure, it may have had its flaws, but at the end of the day, it was still an important part of him.
He shook himself back to his senses. Yes, Mistletoe Grove was a part of him, but it was a part he’d much prefer to leave behind in the past—far behind in the past. Don’t forget, Graham, he reminded himself, growing up here wasn’t all cinnamon and sugarplums. Remember eating lunch in the library because no one would sit with you?
Or pretending to date Beulah Sandler to prove you weren’t actually gay?
Just the memory made his stomach knot up.
“I don’t think this place was quite the home you’re thinking it was.”
Coco allowed his words to sink in. “I’m not saying everything was perfect, Graham, but perfection isn’t the point. Mistletoe Grove was a place to call home.”
Graham barely even tried to stifle his scoff. “You’re one to talk about homes and perfection. You grew up in the lap of luxury. You’ve never known a day in your life that wasn’t perfect, Coco.”
His words hung in the air as the starlet fell silent.
“Why don’t you take a seat,” she said at last. She patted the kitchen stool beside her. “I’m starting to think this gingerbread house is a two-person job.”
Tentative, Graham considered her offer. He hadn’t exactly come up here for an arts and crafts project. Still, something about Coco’s request made him think he ought to take her up on it.
A small knot twisted in his chest. Was it a bit strange how Coco had so suddenly changed the subject?
She hadn’t so much as acknowledged the barb Graham had lobbed her way.
For the record, he stood by it—Coco had spent her whole life inside an ivory tower.
What could she possibly understand about growing up an outsider in a picture-perfect wonderland like Mistletoe Grove?
Without a doubt, her reaction to his insult had been fishy. If there was anything Graham knew about Coco Holliday, it was that she did not tolerate criticism.
So why wasn’t she reading Graham the riot act right now?
Obedient, Graham took a seat at the counter. An uncomfortable silence followed as, unsure what to say, he sized up the gingerbread house before them. “So, what’s the plan?”
Coco gawked at him like he’d just spoken Greek. “Plan? What do you mean?”
“We’re building a gingerbread house, aren’t we?” Graham replied with a shrug. “Don’t tell me you don’t have some sort of blueprint or something?”
The question practically made Coco’s eyeballs roll out of her head. “Sheesh, Graham. We’re building a gingerbread house, not a Manhattan high-rise.”
At this, Graham felt his blood pressure spike. “Sorry for trying to think ahead. Not all of us can just stumble through life, no plan whatsoever, caution be damned.”
An audible scoff followed from Coco. “Pull the candy cane out of your butt, Graham, would you? Not everything needs to be planned within an inch of its life, you know. Sometimes, you have to go with how you feel.”
Now it was Graham’s turn to roll his eyes. It figured he would come up here for a peaceful midnight snack and instead get caught up in another verbal spar with Coco. “Go with how you feel, eh?”
Coco nodded her head, insistent. “Yes.” She surveyed the array of candies spread across the counter. “For instance, right now, I’m feeling like my side of this house could use some candy corn.”
Graham wrinkled his nose as if he’d just heard blasphemy. “Candy corn? On a gingerbread house? That doesn’t make sense at all.”
His argument, however, appeared to be in vain.
“Who cares?” Coco replied. “Your mom had a leftover bag from Halloween in the pantry, so I say we put it to use.” She plucked a piece of the yellow and orange treat from the bowl before her and affixed it to the side of the gingerbread house nearest herself, out of view from Graham’s sight line.
“What about you? What do you feel like adding to your end of the house?”
“How about a notice of condemnation?” Graham deadpanned.
The look on Coco’s face said she wasn’t amused. “Come on, Graham. Just play along, would you?”
He released a low groan. Served him right for thinking he could cheat on his diet. Grumbling, he slapped a gumdrop onto his side of the house. “There. You happy?”
A wry grin curled on Coco’s lips. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She added a few more pieces of candy corn to her own side, still invisible to Graham.
Who was currently recoiling from the heresy Coco was so brazenly committing before him. “You’re going to ruin this thing, Coco.”
Calmly, she took a pause. “Why?”
The question sent Graham sputtering. “Why?” he repeated in disbelief. “Because.”
“Because why?” An impish glimmer lit up her eyes.
Graham released an exasperated sigh. Did Coco really need such simple, black-and-white matters explained? “Because it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Oh? Why is that?” She placed another candy corn on her side of the house.
“Because candy corn doesn’t belong on a gingerbread house, Coco. Everyone knows that.”
Unfazed, Coco reached for yet another piece of the candy. “Do they now?”
“Yes,” Graham retorted. “Because candy corn on a gingerbread house looks like a mistake.”
“You don’t say,” Coco toyed. Plucking one final piece, she attached it to her side of the house before proudly spinning it around.
Revealing a perfect five-point Christmas star.
Made in its entirety from five humble candy corns.
Graham fell suddenly speechless.
Coco cracked a satisfied smile. “Sometimes, it can seem like a mistake when we listen to how we feel, but once we see the full picture, we realize our heart was right all along.”
A long silence followed as Graham processed her words. “You’re not still talking about gingerbread houses, are you?”