Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Rob
I’m not in a great mood when Whitney shows up at the fire station the next morning.
I didn’t sleep worth a damn. The movie was ruined. The baked macaroni and cheese was ruined. Right now it felt as if all of Christmas was ruined.
She’d as good as said goodbye last night, and I wasn’t even sure she would show up today. I knew it was coming—I’d reminded myself so many times Whitney’s stay in Charming Lake was temporary—but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
What will make it all hurt a lot more will be spending the day with Whitney and falling back into our easy way with each other, only to be reminded again that she’s leaving.
I can’t do it.
“Didn’t expect to see you today,” I say in lieu of a proper greeting, and my voice is admittedly a little more harsh than it needed to be.
She frowns and sets my coffee down on the bench when I don’t go and take it from her. “Why? There’s a lot of wrapping up to do, I’m sure.”
“Your job was to help me put on the Christmas fair. You don’t have to help break it down. The guys and I usually get it all put away in a day.”
“Oh.” She hooks her bottom lip with her teeth for a second, looking uncertain. “Are you sure you don’t want somebody to log where everything goes so you don’t have to go door-to-door next year?”
I chuckle because she’s not exaggerating by much. “Now that I’m actually in charge, most of it will be going in my barn.”
“Okay. That’s good, then.”
After a painful moment of awkward silence, I decide to rip the bandage off. “I should have sent you a text, but I think we’re all set.”
That bland, polite business expression she wore the day I met her slips over her face like a mask. Then she nods once. “I’ll get out of your way, then.”
“Thank you for your help. It was a great fair.” I’m grateful my voice doesn’t crack as I force the words out. “I’ll probably see you again before you go.”
“Probably.” Her smile is as stiff as her spine. “But if not, goodbye, Rob.”
Those last two words are like a knife in my gut, but Whitney’s gone by the time I get my breath back. I want to chase after her and spin her around before hauling her into my arms and never letting her go.
Instead, I walk to the bench and open the top of the coffee she brought me. I don’t take a sip of it, though, because I’m honestly afraid I might cry if I do. Hopefully, someday I’ll be able to drink a coffee Beth made without thinking of Whitney, but that day definitely won’t be today. Or tomorrow.
Trying to throw myself into admin work doesn’t do the trick, either. There aren’t enough numbers or budget proposals or incident reports to distract me from the look in Whitney’s eyes when I told her there wasn’t any need for her to be here.
I’ll probably see you again before you go.
My own words are killing me. What does that even mean? I’ll see her as she drives away after an awkward, impersonal goodbye in front of my family? And then…she’s just gone?
No. That’s not okay.
Whitney’s only been in my life for two weeks, so I should be able to wish her well and move on with my life. But right now, I can’t even picture what my life will look like after she’s gone. Every time I try to imagine showing up at family events or grabbing a burger at the diner, Whitney’s with me. Trying to forcibly remove her from the mental picture doesn’t work.
I want her with me.
I need to tell her that. I have to tell her it doesn’t make any sense and I’d be asking her to sacrifice her life and career in the city, but I want her to stay and give us a chance.
And I need to tell her now .
Every minute that goes by is another minute that goodbye has had a chance to settle in and take hold.
I don’t turn on the lights and siren. It’s tempting, but if I’m seen careening into the inn’s driveway, everybody in town will be worried about Natalie and the baby, and nobody needs that right now.
Instead, I pull into the driveway at a normal speed and shut off the SUV. I don’t want to get slowed down by my family and they’re most likely to be in the kitchen—though most of the vehicles are gone—so I don’t go through the back door as I usually would. I jog around to the front of the house and up the steps, almost eating it on a slick spot that I make a mental note to salt later.
The front room is empty, as I’d hoped, and I go straight to the stairs. I’m halfway up when the loud thumping of my footsteps on the treads sinks in and I realize I still have my boots on. I’m not turning back now, so I add cleaning the floors after salting the steps to the to-do list I’m compiling in my head.
Getting to Whitney is number one on the list, though, and I’m not stopping until I find her.
Her door is ajar and swings open under my knock. I don’t see her, even as I step inside. The bathroom door is open and the light is off, so she’s probably not in there. For one horrible, heartbreaking moment, I think she’s gone.
Then I see her suitcase on the floor next to the armoire. There’s a notebook and pen on the nightstand, and her phone charger is still plugged into the wall. I inhale deeply, breathing in the faint scent of her, and will my heart rate to return to something near normal. It’s not going to happen, though.
Whitney’s not in the room, but she hasn’t left. She’s somewhere in this town and I need to find her. But what if I go driving around looking for her, but I miss her and she comes back here and checks out before I circle back?
I go to the nightstand and flip to a clean page in her notebook. I’d tear the page out, but it’s one of those bound journal-type notebooks and if the whole thing unravels, there’s a good chance she won’t forgive me. There’s also a chance she won’t forgive me for scrawling a messy note in her very organized notebook, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take.
Don’t leave before I find you.
I set the notebook open on the bed with the pen on top, where she’s sure to see it. Then I uncap the pen and add one more word.
Please.
Then I retrace my steps until I’m back downstairs and have to decide where to go next.
I hear Nat laugh in the kitchen, and I assume she’s on the phone. It’s a long shot, but asking her if Whitney told her where she was going might save me some time in the long run. Since I still haven’t taken my boots off, I also need to tell her I’ll come back and clean up before Mom sees it or she’ll start yelling at me. And then Donovan will give me hell for leaving messy floors for his pregnant wife.
When I turn the corner into the kitchen, Nat’s still laughing, but she’s not on the phone. She’s sitting at the kitchen table.
With Whitney.
I come to an abrupt stop, my heart pounding. I thought I’d have some driving around time to figure out what I want to say to her, but she’s here and I have no idea what words should come out of my mouth. They’re not exactly lining up in the right order in my brain.
“You didn’t take off your boots,” Nat points out, because that’s the sisterly thing to do. “Luckily, you’re not making a mess of the kitchen floor because you stomped all the salt and sand off on the stairs.”
“I need to talk to Whitney.”
Natalie arches an eyebrow. “I should say so.”
That’s when I realize Nat may have been laughing when I walked into the room, but Whitney’s nose is a little red and her eyes are puffy. She was crying very recently.
“I’m going to go check on Sam,” my sister says, rising from her chair. “I put him down for a nap in Nana Jo’s room so I wouldn’t have to go up and down the stairs, and he should be waking up any time. If not, I might close my eyes for a minute or two.”
Once she’s gone and hopefully out of earshot, I pull the chair she vacated closer to Whitney and sit down. She’s watching me expectantly, and I still have no idea where to start. “I wrote in your notebook.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widen for a moment before she shakes her head. “You know how I feel about my notebooks, but I don’t think you had to drive all the way here to confess that sin.”
“No, I wrote in it after I got here. Just now, upstairs.”
“Why? What did you write?”
“I didn’t know where you were, so I left a note asking you not to leave before I found you.” I take a deep breath. “I didn’t rip the page out, though. So…yeah.”
“Rob, what’s going on?”
“I don’t want you to go.” There. Those were the words I needed to get out.
She looks at me for a long time, and I try to brace myself for her reaction. I know she’ll be kind because that’s who she is, but she’s never let me believe she’d give up her life to stay here. With a guy she’s known for two weeks, even.
“Why?”
The words come out of my mouth before I give any thought to what I should say. “Because I love you and I know we haven’t known each other very long and it doesn’t make any sense, but I do know I’m totally in love with you and I don’t want you to go because I don’t want to live the rest of my life without you in it. And I needed you to know that.”
In the space of a single heartbeat, Whitney is out of her chair and in my arms, straddling my lap the way she did in the sleigh. I wrap my arms around her as she buries her face in my neck and I can feel the moisture of her tears on my skin.
“It doesn’t make any sense, but I am totally in love with you, too,” she says when she finally lifts her head so I can see her face. “I don’t want to go.”
There is so much joy and hope coursing through my body, I’m actually trembling. “You don’t? You’re going to stay in Charming Lake?”
“I am. I mean, I’m going to leave because I have an apartment and an office and a bank and—whatever, all that—but I’m coming back.”
“Will you be back by Christmas?”
“I’m going to spend Christmas with my mom.” Her eyes well up with tears again and she tries to blink them away, but one escapes and I wipe it away with my thumb. “Being with your family has made me realize I never want another Christmas without her. Natalie already said next year, we’ll just add her to the crowd here, but for this year, it’s short notice and I also need time to wrap up…you know, the whole life I used to have.”
“Wait, Natalie knows you’re coming back?” I shift in the seat, getting more comfortable, and I tighten my arms when Whitney starts to stand. I won’t be letting go of her for a while.
“That’s what we were talking about before you got here, actually. Your family seems to have already guessed that maybe you and I are meant to be, so there have been discussions. And yes, Nat said it like that, with emphasis.”
“I guess if she’s already planning on your mom joining us next year, the consensus was positive?”
She smiles down at me, her eyes sparkling. “Yes. Donovan has already created a position for me in Charming Lake.”
Okay, so rich guys could be a pain in the ass, but his brother-in-law wasn’t half-bad. “What is it?”
“So, it doesn’t really have an official title or job description yet, but basically his liaison between his foundations and the community, so everybody’s needs are met. And anything he needs done when he’s in town. Maybe some remote work.”
“So you don’t have to give up your career?” It just keeps getting better.
“I’ll be giving up the career I thought I wanted, but I’ll be doing a job that makes me happy.” She brushes her fingertips over my jaw. “Most importantly, I’ll have you. I mean, I’ll have to give up being able to have pizza delivered at one in the morning, but you’re worth it.”
I grin, still trying to process that I’m the luckiest guy on the planet right now. “I can microwave a pizza at one in the morning and deliver it to you in bed if that helps?”
“I’ll hold you to that. I hope to be back by the end of the year, though I might have to make a couple of trips back to the city. Do you have plans for New Year’s Eve?” When I wince, she sighs. “Oh, I guess that’s probably a pretty busy night for first responders.”
“It’s not usually too bad in Charming Lake, but it depends on the weather sometimes. But the guys and I usually stay at the station.”
“That’s okay. I know I’ll be sharing you with the community, but I’ll be waiting for you when you get…wait?—”
“Yes, you’re moving in with me,” I tell her. “As a matter of fact, I’ll go upstairs right now and get your stuff and drive it to my house so it’s official, so when you leave, you’re leaving from there.”
She laughs and then I can’t take it anymore. I cup the back of her neck and draw her down for a long, thorough kiss that makes everything right in my world again. Then she rests her head on my shoulder and I just hold her.
“You know,” I say after a few minutes. “I really thought we were going to end up on the naughty list for what we did on that sleigh, but Santa really came through on this one. Our own Christmas miracle.”