Chapter 9
NINE
CASSIDY
“We have a lovely new town, don’t we?” Cassidy said to Muff as she bent down and scratched behind her fluffy white ears.
Last night had felt like a Christmas movie come to life with the Christmas carolers, reindeer paddock, and Santa’s house.
The only thing that had been missing was Liam.
And Cassidy had missed him. Trying to figure him out was quickly becoming the best part of her day.
But even without him there, she’d had a marvelous time.
If she wasn’t so run off her feet, she’d volunteer at the house to be an elf.
I do have the hat already, she thought as she tugged her stocking cap lower.
She and Muff had just taken a much-needed break in a loop around the lake near the inn, the frozen water shimmering under the pale winter sun, before heading into town to let the pup sniff every garland-wrapped lamppost and snowbank in sight.
Cassidy had flipped the shop sign to “Closed,” along with a handwritten note that said, “Back in 30 minutes.” If her shop continued to stay this busy, she’d have to come up with a plan for Muff.
Cassidy was hesitant to hire someone, not when her shop was still a baby.
Rita had had a couple of longtime employees, but they’d decided to retire when she did.
Maple Falls was starting to come alive with holiday magic, even on an ordinary weekday afternoon.
Zoe’s flower shop, Cherry Crush, had a stand of mini holiday bouquets and mistletoe bundles tied with red-and-white twine, the scent of pine and eucalyptus drifting onto the sidewalk.
The Little Lantern Bookshop had a book tree in its window, stacked high and wrapped in twinkle lights, topped with a shimmering silver star that reflected the snow outside.
She paused to admire the oversized silver snowflake clings decorating the Maple Leaf Café windows, where the owner, Zach and Emily’s mom, Anita, had tucked faux poinsettias, evergreen branches, and birch twigs into her sidewalk planters, creating a splash of color against the winter white.
Muff pranced beside her on their walk back.
The entire time, Cassidy took in the heartwarming decorations and reflected on how welcoming Maple Falls had been.
Anita had dropped off a grilled cheese and tomato bisque just before noon.
“Just wanted to make sure you took time to eat,” she’d said, buying twenty dollars’ worth of handmade peanut butter cups on her way out.
Even Mayor Bloomfield had stopped in to see how Maple Falls’ newest business owner was doing and to see if there was anything he could do to help. Cassidy had assured him she was all set.
She honestly couldn’t believe how kind everyone was being.
But a part of her—and if she was being honest, it was a rather large part—wondered how long it would last.
Cassidy had been told many times that she was a bit much, especially this time of year, with her oversized holiday sweaters, random Christmas trivia, and her tendency to talk to marshmallows.
The Midwest didn’t always do quirky. And she hadn’t lived here since she was a little girl.
A lot had changed since then, including her.
But she’d also learned that she had to be true to herself. Anything less would end in heartbreak. The French Bastard had taught her that lesson.
They’d met at culinary school. At first, he’d found her adorable, endearing even.
He’d swept her off her feet with his charm.
Told her she was beautiful. He’d opened her eyes to the world—fine dining in Paris, lavish gifts, last-minute getaways.
They’d been to so many places—Monaco, the Swiss Alps, Iceland, Tuscany, Bora Bora.
But little by little, he’d chipped away at her confidence.
“Are you sure you’re going to wear that?”
“Have you ever thought about contacts?”
“Braids again? What are you, five?”
It hadn’t just been about her appearance. He’d second-guessed her every creative instinct. Her ideas. Her spark.
“Citrus and white chocolate? No. Never.”
“Do you even pay attention in school?”
“That will never work.”
Soon, she’d stopped defending herself. Stopped offering ideas. In the end, she wasn’t even a partner in the shop they ran together. She was just an employee. Worse than that, her opinions didn’t matter. She didn’t matter.
She’d lost herself. And it still hadn’t been enough.
He’d tossed her aside, cheating on her with an intern in their apartment. She’d walked in last year to see Santa’s little helper riding her boyfriend in their bed wearing nothing but a big red bow.
Cassidy couldn’t believe that it had taken losing everything to make her realize she didn’t want any of it.
Now, she wouldn’t dim her light again. Not for anyone. She’d fought hard to get here—to Maple Falls, to this shop, to this moment. She was rebuilding something real, something hers. And anyone who couldn’t see her magic didn’t deserve a seat at her table.
She just needed a reminder every now and then.
Back at the shop, she climbed the narrow staircase to the small apartment above the Cocoa Corner to drop Muff off before heading back to work.
Muff’s paws tapped the wooden stairs beside her.
She opened the door to her new home—a snug one-bedroom apartment that smelled faintly of cocoa from the shop below.
The space was simple but hers, and that meant everything. A tiny galley kitchen with pale blue cabinets she planned to repaint, a well-worn loveseat, and a small pine table tucked under the window where Muff’s bed lay.
The pup padded over to the window, circling on her blanket before settling in for a nap.
Cassidy glanced around, taking in the plain white walls and bare windows.
It could use a little Christmas, she thought, promising to tackle her apartment next.
She imagined twinkle lights draped around the windows, a wreath on the door with red velvet ribbon, a full-size Christmas tree in the corner, twinkling with multicolored lights.
Outside, flurries of snow danced past the window, catching the glow from the streetlights, while inside, the warmth of the radiator hummed softly beneath the windowsill.
She had plenty more boxes in storage. Christmas décor handed down from her parents and her grand-maman that had sat untouched for almost four years.
She’d packed them away when she’d moved to Paris, telling herself she’d get them out again when the time was right.
But Jean-Paul’s sleek, modern style didn’t fit with twinkly lights or mismatched ornaments.
And when it came down to it, he didn’t care about the little things that mattered to her.
But this was her space now. Her fresh start. Her chance to create a home that felt like her—cozy, warm, unapologetically festive.
She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the weight of her locket with its spiced cocoa recipe beneath her sweater, and smiled softly. This year, she promised herself, she would celebrate Christmas the way she wanted.
On the landing, she practiced again: “Welcome to the Cocoa Corner!” Her voice was light, but hesitation still crept in.
“Did I take on too much?” she questioned her reflection.
She wanted to believe the answer was no.
But then she thought about that morning—how she’d been rushing, distracted, trying to serve people and prep a fresh batch of marshmallows when she’d caught sight of Liam through the front window, laughing with someone outside his shop.
One second of watching him—one second too long—and she’d accidentally knocked a full mug of hot cocoa onto a customer’s lap.
She’d apologized profusely, offered a full refund and a free box of truffles, but it had rattled her more than she wanted to admit.
She told herself it was just exhaustion. That she hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in days. But deep down, it felt like a crack in her facade, and everything she’d built threatened to slip through her fingers.
Her mirrored self had no response.
“You’re no help,” she said to her reflection as her phone rang. She shook off the uncertainties and put on a happy face.
She answered the video call and was immediately greeted by the two familiar faces she missed most—her brother, Julian, and his husband, Miles.
Julian, with his crisp white shirt and black V-neck sweater, while Miles wore a hot-pink button-up and matching glasses.
The men were a case study in opposites attract.
“Hey! We just wanted to see how our favorite sister was doing,” Julian said.
“I’m good! How are you guys?” she asked, trying to sound chipper as she walked the rest of the way downstairs and into her shop.
“Uh-oh,” Julian said, narrowing his eyes. “What’s with the fake voice?”
“What fake voice? I don’t have a fake voice. It’s been a great first couple days.”
Julian didn’t look convinced. Cassidy couldn’t have that. Her brother, in all his loving, protective ways, hadn’t wanted her to go. He and Miles had wanted her to stay in New York and keep working at their patisserie, even running her own store when they expanded.
But she wanted something different, something that was just her own.
She was eternally grateful to them. They’d been there when her Parisian world had fallen apart, but now she was ready to branch out on her own.
And she was doing just fine. They’d just caught her in a moment of weakness, thinking about Jean-Paul and how much he’d royally screwed with her life.
“Here, wanna see?” Cassidy offered before they could ask any more questions. She turned the video around; the less time her brother had to study her expression, the better.
She walked around her shop, showing off the cute pop-up café with its spiced cocoa sign, its glass jar of Christmas tree-shaped marshmallows and candy cane twists, before turning the camera on her handwritten chalkboard and display case.
“I’ve sold a little bit of everything, and look, it’s snowing out!
” Cassidy didn’t have to feign excitement in that as she panned the phone to the front window.
She was counting on a white Christmas this year; it had been years since she’d had one.
Paris wasn’t exactly known for its holiday snowfall.
“What about you guys? How’s it going?” she asked quickly.
“Cass,” Miles said gently, “you know you don’t have to pretend with us.”
She sighed and flipped the camera back around.
“I’m okay. Just tired. That’s all. And, you know… apparently there’s a Gingerbread Jerk on the loose.”
Julian’s sculpted brows rose. “A what now?”
“Someone’s been messing with people’s holiday displays,” she explained. “Knocking things over, breaking stuff. The bakery and bookshop were both hit.”
Miles leaned closer to the camera. “Cass, that doesn’t sound like harmless Christmas mischief. Do you have security? Locks? Maybe a festive taser?”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “It’s probably just bored teenagers or the wind or… whatever. I’ve got Muff, I’ve got marshmallows, and I’ve got backup cocoa. I’m good.”
Julian didn’t look convinced. “Just promise us you’ll be careful, okay?”
She nodded, even as her stomach fluttered. She didn’t want them to worry—not when she’d fought so hard to come here and prove she could do this on her own.
“I promise,” she said. “Besides, if the Gingerbread Jerk wants to come for me, they better bring it. I’m scrappy when provoked.”
The shop’s bell jingled. Cassidy looked up, relieved to see Madison step through the door. Her fiery red hair spilled out of the beanie she had tucked on her head. “Sorry, I have to let you go. I have a customer.” She panned the camera to her friend to prove she wasn’t lying.
Madison played along, waving back.
“Fine, fine. We’ll call you later,” Miles insisted.
“Looking forward to it,” she said with a wave before hanging up.
She turned her attention to Madison. “Thank you for coming in when you did.”
“Happy to help. What’s that all about?”
Unlike with her family, Cassidy didn’t feel like she had to hide her feelings around Madison. Perhaps because they had something in common, coming back to the Midwest after being away for so long.
“My brother. He and his husband, Miles, are worried about me.”
Madison nodded. “It’s a big leap. Starting over.”
Cassidy leaned against the counter. “Yeah. And honestly? I was a mess when I came home from Paris, so I get it.”
Her friend stepped closer as if imparting a secret. “Well, for what it’s worth… your chocolate is magic. Trust me, I know these things.”
Cassidy brightened. Madison was a food critic for one of the country’s top culinary magazines, and she didn’t sugarcoat things. If she said it was good, it had to be.
“Thanks. I needed to hear that.” Cassidy stood up taller. “So, what can I get for you?”
“An extra-large cup of your spiced hot cocoa to go. Kit’s assembling a massive gingerbread house in the lobby, and her visions of grandeur are giving me anxiety.”
“That’s saying something.”
“You haven’t seen this house.” Madison lowered her voice. “She’s got gumdrop turrets, Cassidy. Turrets.”
“Is that even structurally possible?”
“Not according to physics. But Kit doesn’t believe in physics. Or rules. Or the limitations of icing.”
Cassidy grinned, ladling the cocoa. She liked Kit and could appreciate her enthusiasm for the season, unlike some people she knew.
As though she’d summoned him with her thoughts, she caught sight of Liam as he stepped outside his shop. All rugged with his red checkered flannel, worn jeans, and leather work boots. He stood, hands on his hips, surveying his space.
Then he pulled out a measuring tape and Cassidy’s throat went dry.
She decided right then that there was something very sexy about a man with a plan—especially when that man looked like a living lumberjack and smelled faintly of cedar and honey.
She almost smiled—until he scowled at the string of Christmas lights hanging off his awning, shook his head like the lights had personally offended him, and muttered something she couldn’t hear but was definitely not in the Christmas spirit.
She forced herself to tear her gaze away, rolling her eyes as she did.
Mr. Grumpy Lumberjack was clearly working on his display for the Christmas Countdown, and the irony was infuriating. He didn’t even like Christmas. What right did he have to win a competition that was all about community, joy, and actual festive cheer?
That first-place prize should be hers based on her energy alone.
And it would be hers if she could just keep her focus in this year of no men.
Because that man was clearly a big distraction wrapped in flannel.
And she couldn’t afford to lose herself for a man, especially not a grinch. No matter how good he looked holding a measuring tape.