Chapter 12
TWELVE
LIAM
Liam knew it was best to put as much distance between him and Cassidy as possible.
What in the hell were you doing? he chastised himself as he stepped outside the Cocoa Corner.
The cold wind whipped across his face and Liam prayed it would cool the hot, raw energy that had been building in his veins.
He had been mere seconds away from crushing his lips to Cassidy’s, pulling her close, and taking everything she would’ve given him.
He would’ve tried to be gentle, but he couldn’t make any promises.
She smelled like chocolate and caramel—and a whisper of spice.
It was madness. There was no other explanation. There was no reason a woman he’d just met should have this much pull on him. But he couldn’t deny it.
She was so full of life. So vibrant. So damn joyful.
Liam had forgotten what it was like to see that spark in someone’s eyes.
He used to have that, genuinely, deep down inside him.
But since meeting Cassidy, he felt more and more like he had been faking it, playing a role in Maple Falls.
Until Christmas and the anniversary came around, he fulfilled that role dutifully.
The charm. The flirting. The parties. But the happiness?
That was surface level. A performance. To him and everyone else.
It had been like that for the last four years.
All show. No substance.
And he’d built that persona himself. Hyped it up, even.
He didn’t date, not long-term. Bachelor parties. Girls’ weekend trips. If a woman came to Maple Falls looking for a Midwestern romantic fantasy, Liam was her guy. They’d both get what they wanted, and she’d leave by Monday morning.
No strings. No complications.
Liam preferred it that way. It was safer. And he hadn’t been ready for anything deeper, not after what had happened that Christmas, years ago.
Deep down, he didn’t believe he deserved love again.
And yet… there was Cassidy.
The way she moved through town with that bright-eyed determination, cocoa in hand, cheeks pink from the cold, calling out greetings to everyone she passed.
The way she wore that elf hat with zero self-consciousness, like she couldn’t help but dive headfirst into joy, even when she had every reason not to.
It should have annoyed him. Should have had him running a mile in the opposite direction.
But it didn’t.
And Liam didn’t understand why.
The downtown area was steadily filling up with locals and tourists for the tree lighting festival.
The town’s gas fireplaces were blazing, and people stood around them with knit hats pulled low and scarves wrapped tight, socializing with steaming cups of boozy hot toddies or mugs of hot buttered rum from the Kettle.
Cassidy might’ve cornered the market on hot cocoa, but the Kettle still had the best hot cocktails in town.
The square also had miniature trees set up in stands, and bins of plastic ornaments for kids to decorate them with while their parents mingled.
A saxophone player stood on the corner wearing a Santa hat, playing “Here Comes Santa Claus,” while the holiday trolley pulled up to the end of the street.
The trolley, bright green and decorated with multicolored lights, brought locals from the residential district to the downtown area so they wouldn’t have to drive over and find a place to park.
Laughter echoed through the streets, the scent of cinnamon was thick in the air, and it was only the beginning of the holiday season.
Liam smiled at Mr. Alders from the hardware store, waved at Zach’s mom, Anita, and purposely avoided meeting Mrs. Bishop’s eye, despite her best attempts.
He wondered how quickly word would get around that he was into Cassidy.
Knowing the locals, it would be common knowledge by nightfall.
He’d have to be careful. Keep his distance. Play it safe.
He had, though… hadn’t he? He hadn’t sought her out. Not this time.
He’d just been trying to deliver the damn Christmas tree, and the next thing he knew, she’d jumped up into his truck, offered to lend a hand, and look where that had landed him.
He shook his head.
This time wasn’t his fault.
He’d just have to make sure there wasn’t a next time.
Liam picked up his pace, weaving through the growing crowd, and joined Zach, who was just finishing securing the tree in the stand.
“Cassidy okay?” Zach asked, standing up from underneath the tree.
“Yeah, she’s great,” Liam said a bit too quickly.
He put his gloves on and tried to casually survey the scene, which meant he was casually surveying the scene.
There were kids bundled up in puffy coats, throwing snowballs while parents stood off to the side, keeping an eye on things.
One tyke in particular tried to break free and scale the tree Liam had just delivered.
The kid shrieked as his parents ran after him.
Liam smiled. That’s better, he thought, because if Zach had seen his earlier expression, he’d know Cassidy had him all torn up inside.
Liam couldn’t give him the satisfaction.
After all the shit Liam had given Zach over Madison, he knew he deserved it. He just couldn’t listen to it. Not right now.
And Zach wouldn’t hold back. That was just how they were.
“Hey, guys, did you get the lights?” Madison asked, joining them. “The crafting club said they left them in the gazebo yesterday,” Madison said. “They were all labeled and ready to go.”
Liam strode around to the back of the gazebo, his boots crunching over fresh snow. A second later, his angry voice cut through the chatter.
“Found them,” he called. “Or what’s left of them.”
Madison rushed over, Zach following behind.
The large plastic bin was cracked open down the middle like someone had forced it apart.
Shattered pieces of the lid were buried in the snow, and inside, the contents had been ransacked—some lights were still tangled around broken bits of garland, but half were missing entirely.
A handful of crushed ornaments were scattered on the ground nearby, as if someone had stomped on them.
“Looks like the Gingerbread Jerk has struck again,” Zach said.
“Everything okay?” Cassidy asked, walking over to join the group.
Liam hadn’t even seen her approach. But the second he saw her, every nerve in his body, nerves he’d fought hard to control, jolted back to life.
She’d switched her coat out for a deep green one that shouldn’t have been sexy, but something about the way the wool hugged her curves made him fight not to stare.
He caught her eyes. They were bright, excited for the evening’s festivities. She looked like Christmas come to life.
“Are you okay?” Madison asked, instinctively reaching for Cassidy’s arm.
“Yep. Totally fine. I put some cream on it and changed my sweater. The rash is probably gone by now.” She smiled. “What’s going on?”
“The Gingerbread Jerk struck again,” Madison explained. “We have forty-five minutes to get the tree strung, and no lights.”
“What? No!” Cassidy looked over at the broken-bulbed mess and Liam could swear he saw steam coming out of her ears.
“I have a bin of Christmas decorations upstairs in my bedroom,” she offered. “I don’t know if I have enough lights, but it’s something.”
Madison turned to Liam. “Why don’t you run back and help her grab it?”
The question was innocent enough, but God help him, he couldn’t do it. The thought of being upstairs, in Cassidy’s bedroom—where she slept, where the scent of her would linger in the air, on the sheets, in every corner of that small space…
Liam had been going crazy with need, and that was when they were fully clothed in public.
The idea of being alone with her in that bedroom, tension crackling like a live wire between them, the door closing behind him, her standing there with her soft sweater and flushed cheeks, looking at him like she wanted him as badly as he wanted her—
It was too much.
He thought back to earlier, when he’d almost kissed her. She had whispered, “This isn’t just in my head, is it?”
And Liam had known right then that she felt every ounce of desire he did.
But he couldn’t act on it. Wouldn’t.
Cassidy was full of hope, love, and Christmas magic.
And he was full of emptiness and grief.
He wouldn’t bring his heaviness into her light and bright holiday cheer.
She deserved better than that.
“I’ll go to the hardware store,” Liam blurted. Hell, he’d walk one town over before setting foot in Cassidy’s bedroom. There was only so much temptation one man could handle.
Her face fell. “If you’d rather?” She looked away.
Liam cursed under his breath.
She’d offered to help, and now she looked shut out, as if he’d rejected her.
“It’s just… they probably have more lights, and we can pick out exactly what we need. If we hurry, we can be back before the ceremony even starts,” he amended. “You want to come?”
Cassidy’s face lit up, and, by God, he felt something break loose in his chest.
All he could think was, God help me, the next time we’re alone, I’m not going to be able to walk away.