Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
LIAM
Liam was sorting through a bin of oversized white bulbs, prepping for his Christmas light-up display.
He was thinking of all the ways he could take the farm shop’s holiday setup out front to the next level.
He’d already set aside a handful of six-foot blue spruces from the farm.
He’d haul them in at the weekend, decorate each one top to bottom in a rustic theme.
No plastic. No cheap imports. Just wood, cotton, soft flannels, and handmade ornaments from local artisans.
His light-up might not be for two weeks, but he’d need all the extra time to pull out all the stops.
He wanted to make the shop feel like home, like his family’s farm. Like a place built on heart and hard work.
The air inside already smelled like an evergreen forest, thanks to the candle burning behind the counter with notes of pine, peppermint, and vanilla curling through the room.
It reminded him of Cassidy.
Of the woods.
Of that morning, spent tucked away beneath the snow-dusted pines.
So much for taking it slow, he thought, raking a hand through his hair.
He hadn’t taken things all the way. Not the way his body had wanted to.
But he’d made it good for her. That’s what mattered.
Through the front window, he could see his reflection—flannel sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair mussed from hauling crates, a smudge of sap on his wrist as he adjusted the wire display stand for the ornaments.
Beyond that reflection, across the street, he could see the Cocoa Corner, its windows glowing softly with twinkle lights and frosted garlands, the chalkboard sign for the pop-up advertising “The Spiced Cocoa Café.”
His eyes kept drifting there, catching glimpses of Cassidy moving behind the counter, her wavy blonde hair falling forward as she took a tray of steaming cocoa to a young couple. She laughed at something they said, head tipping back, eyes bright.
“Knock, knock.” Zach’s voice cut through the soft hum of the farm shop’s old heater, the bell above the door jingling.
Liam cleared his throat, hoping it would take his thoughts of Cassidy with it.
“Do you think two thousand bulbs are enough?” Liam asked, but he stopped short when he looked up and saw Zach wearing an emerald-green sweater with the words “Team Liam” knit across the front.
“Don’t worry, buddy—I got you one too.” Zach tossed a sweater at him. Liam caught it with one hand and dropped it into the box with the rest of the bulbs.
“Man, what in the world? Please tell me there aren’t more of these.”
“More? There’s a whole line of people in front of the town Christmas tree, lined up to buy theirs.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Don’t worry. There are Team Cassidy ones too. It’s a limited-edition collectible. Future generations will talk about the time Liam Hawthorne wore a sparkly sweater and smiled in public at Christmas.”
“Keep talking and I’ll make you climb the ladder and hang all two thousand bulbs by yourself.”
Liam was about to say it was completely over the top and that there was no way in holly-jolly heck he was wearing one of those sweaters…
Then he glanced out the window and spotted her strutting back to her shop in her bright red Team Cassidy sweater, like she’d already won the whole competition. Her face was glowing, her smile smug and sparkling.
She looked entirely too pleased with herself.
And yeah, she looked gorgeous too, but Liam mostly saw a challenge.
Game on, Sugarplum.
He tugged the sweater on over his head.
The sweater was soft, absurdly festive, and smelled faintly of Mrs. Bishop’s lilac perfume. He looked ridiculous—and, surprisingly, didn’t mind.
“Alright,” he said. “Now, where were we?”
“You were asking me about some bulbs,” Zach reminded him.
“Right. You’re right. Two thousand isn’t enough. Better make it five thousand.”
“I don’t know… are you sure you don’t wanna make it ten thousand?” Zach motioned across the street. “Do you see how much work your girl over there is putting in?”
Liam was about to object and say that Cassidy wasn’t his girl—until he realized Zach had said it more as a friendly term than a relationship status update.
Zach was still looking outside. Liam followed his gaze.
Across the street, Cassidy stood in front of her shop with a measuring tape.
She dragged one of the chairs over to the window and stood on it so she could reach the top of the window.
They watched her measure the window vertically, then horizontally, then diagonally.
“What do you suppose she’s doing?” Zach asked, arms folded as he leaned against the front counter.
Liam mirrored him on the opposite side. “No idea. But she’s got to be freezing. She’s been in and out of there all morning.”
“Maybe she’s working on reinforcements.”
“Reinforcements? That seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Not if you don’t want your decorations destroyed or stolen. That Gingerbread Jerk still hasn’t been caught. Didn’t you see what happened to the nutcrackers at the Kettle?”
“No. What happened?”
“They cracked more than nuts,” Zach said. “Both of them toppled. Busted right up. And you know those suckers weighed a ton. I think they ended up tossing them.”
“Are you kidding me?” Liam asked, standing straighter. He’d been hoping the Gingerbread Jerk wasn’t here to stay. Things like that didn’t happen in Maple Falls no matter how intense the holiday competition got.
Maybe Cassidy was trying to make her light-up plans thief-proof.
He was just relieved she hadn’t marched down to the hardware store to interrogate poor Mr. Alders.
He could picture it now, Cassidy, all fired up, pointing a finger in Mr. Alders’ face with one hand and holding a candy cane in the other.
It definitely wouldn’t end well, and it wouldn’t help her new business either.
If Liam knew one thing about living in Maple Falls, it was that you wanted the older folk on your side.
Liam continued to watch her. She measured once more, putting notes in her phone.
She’s going to burn herself out at this rate, he thought. More concerned for her than anything. Or maybe she’ll win—and leave you wondering how you ever thought you stood a chance.