Chapter 2
TWO
LIAM
Liam hadn’t planned to end up standing in the snow, in front of a woman who looked like Christmas personified, but here he was.
She stared at him, wide-eyed, cheeks pink from the cold, messy blonde braid falling over her shoulder, barefoot, and holding a steaming mug like it was the answer to life’s problems. There was chocolate on her cheek—actual chocolate.
It would’ve been funny if it weren’t so ridiculous.
He swore under his breath. This was exactly what he didn’t need. A woman who looked like a holiday movie heroine, blue eyes bright with Christmas cheer. Like her soul was made of snow and cocoa with a dash of magic.
She was a walking holiday card. And he would rather walk barefoot over hot coals than get caught in that.
Because Christmas didn’t mean magic for him. Not anymore. It meant heartbreak and hollow traditions that made everyone else smile while he pretended to do the same.
Normally, Liam would drown out the holiday cheer with long runs and work on the family farm.
He was the king of the Jingle Bell 5k, after all.
But his hamstring had other ideas, tearing during last week’s training session.
The injury had left him limping around with nothing but frustration and the town’s Light-Up Display Competition to tackle.
At least that was one area where he could put his competitive nature to good use, even if it did mean he had to fake some Christmas joy.
His farm shop was guaranteed to take first place.
He was doing it for his family, who ran the local farm, and nothing was going to get in the way of that.
Especially not a newcomer like her.
It was all the dog’s fault. Five minutes ago, he’d been working late on woodwork in his farm shop, trying to pretend his hamstring wasn’t throbbing like hell, when a deep, cheerful woof echoed down the sleepy street.
Normally, he’d have ignored it. But something had nudged at him—a sense that something wasn’t right.
He’d slightly limped to the window and peered out into the snow. And there she was.
Cassidy St. Clair. The new girl in town and the owner of the Cocoa Corner chocolate shop with that spiced cocoa everyone couldn’t wait to try.
Their shops were across the street from each other and she’d moved last month, but he hadn’t met her yet.
He’d been busy helping his twin brother, Jackson, at the family farm, while his mom ran the shop.
They’d only opened it at the beginning of November and everything they did really was a family affair.
At the farm, the fall harvest rolled right into pumpkins and hayrides, then straight into selling Christmas trees.
It had been nonstop, not much time for socializing.
But he’d heard all about her. Hell, she was now friends with all of his friends.
His friend Zoe, who ran the local flower shop, had even added her to their group chat on WhatsApp.
And Liam was sure he’d get on with her just fine, like he did with everyone.
If only she weren’t obsessed with his least favorite time of year. Christmas.
So, given everything he’d heard about her festive spirit, perhaps it was for the best he hadn’t made it to any friend hangouts lately.
Christmas brought out the worst in him. The anniversary of the day his world fell apart was rolling around again.
As much as he wanted to, he could never just smile and push through.
He wished he could project the same carefree, life-of-the-party Liam everyone knew most of the year.
Then there’d be no questions. No sympathy.
But he simply couldn’t, and he also didn’t want to talk about why.
No one knew exactly how much pain this time of year caused him.
Well, no one except his best friend, Zach. It was freakish how well they read each other. Liam swore he knew him better than even his twin, Jackson.
Zach would have known exactly how annoyed Liam had felt when he’d looked out of his window and seen a beautiful woman pacing barefoot in heavily falling snow. Snow was not something to be trifled with. This time of year, people ought to be careful, and he knew that more than most.
She’d checked her door handle multiple times, then peered through the windows. And while he didn’t know her personally, he could tell she was the type who’d try to break into her own shop just to avoid asking for help.
So, he’d sighed, tugged on his boots and flannel jacket, and made his way outside.
And now, introductions over, she was beaming back at him like he was the angel Gabriel.
This woman was gorgeous—too gorgeous, in fact, for a man trying very hard not to notice things like the fullness of her lips or the red polish on her toes.
But he was no angel, not this time of year. He did not smile back.
“You alright?” His voice came out low and rough, with a barely masked touch of frustration.
She nodded, her smile slipping, mug clutched to her chest in a defensive pose. “Totally fine. Just… bonding with my door.”
“Is that so?” He huffed a laugh despite himself, which only annoyed him more.
She was flustered, trying so hard to pretend she had everything under control. But her lip quirked, and she looked to be one sarcastic comment away from either laughing or crying, and his frustration cracked just a bit.
“I’m guessing you’re locked out?” he asked.
“Yes. But it’s fine. I was just about to scale that drainpipe,” she said, pointing at it confidently, then squinting up. “Okay, maybe not. But it did seem like a viable option five seconds ago.” She lifted her mug. “Hot cocoa is a gateway beverage to all sorts of poor decisions.”
“Going out barefoot in the snow being one of them?” He raised an eyebrow.
She glanced down at her feet and wiggled her toes with a wince. “It would appear so. Don’t suppose you have a magical spare key?”
“Rita didn’t mention one?”
“Not that I remember. And if she did, I have no idea where it’d be.” She glanced toward the shop’s front door. “Maybe there’s a flowerpot or a fake rock or something?”
“Something like that,” he said, already walking. He motioned for her to follow him around the side of the building, where the gutter met the curb. He bent down, peeled a small magnetic key box off the back of the downspout, and handed it over.
“Rita had a tendency to lock herself out too,” he added as an explanation.
“Kindred spirit,” she said with a smile.
They made their way back to the front door and Liam watched her turn the key, saw the tension drain from her shoulders when the lock clicked open. She turned to him, snowflakes in her hair, chocolate still on her cheek, and she looked so happy. Bright. Full of hope.
It was the kind of hope he hadn’t let himself feel in years—four years, to be exact.
He should have walked away then, should have left once he saw she was safely back inside.
But he didn’t. Because when her eyes met his, something sharp and hot cut through the layers he’d built around his heart, leaving him exposed in a way he hadn’t expected.
It wasn’t just attraction. It was gravity. The kind that pulled a man down and made him forget his better judgment.
And the worst part was, a reckless part of him—buried deep and aching—wanted her to keep going. To tear through every last wall until there was nothing left to hide behind.