Ivy spun around, spotting Lucas smirking with a mischievous glint in his eyes.“You!” she exclaimed, laughing despite the chill.
“Me? Never!” he said innocently, though his stance suggested otherwise.
The air filled with playful chaos as Ivy grabbed a handful of snow and tossed it back. Lucas dodged with exaggerated flair, letting the snowball hit the edge of his coat.
“You’re going down!” he shouted, laughing, before scooping up more snow.
For a few joyful minutes, they chased each other around the fountain, dodging and throwing snow, their laughter echoing through the crisp winter air. Each accidental touch—the brush of hands, the collision of shoulders—sent sparks through Ivy, making her heart race.
Finally, they collapsed side by side on a snowbank, breathless and laughing. Lucas brushed snow off Ivy’s hair and leaned alittle closer.“Ivy… you make even a snowball fight feel… special,” he said softly.
Ivy’s cheeks warmed as she smiled, her hands brushing his sleeve.“You’re impossible… but I like it.”
They sat together, watching the snow settle around the twinkling festival lights. It wasn’t a grand declaration or a dramatic moment, but it was theirs—a shared, playful, intimate experience that deepened their slow-burning connection.
When Lucas finally offered his hand to help her up, Ivy took it, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers.“Same time next festival?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.
“Definitely,” Ivy replied, her smile radiant.
And as they walked back toward the café, snow crunching under their boots, Ivy realized that love didn’t always need fireworks. Sometimes, it thrived in laughter, warmth, and playful moments shared with someone who made even winter feel like home.
Chapter 17:
Cinnamon and Candles
The café smelled of cinnamon and vanilla as Ivy arranged small sprigs of holly along the counters. The soft glow of fairy lights reflected off the windows, casting a warm shimmer across the room. Lucas appeared from the back, carrying a small tray of ingredients.
“Thought we could try making holiday cookies,” he said, a teasing grin on his face.
Ivy laughed.“You want me to risk my culinary reputation?”
“I’m willing to take that chance,” he replied, setting the tray down and brushing flour from his coat.
They worked side by side, laughter mixing with the soft clinking of bowls and utensils. Lucas reached over to help her roll a particularly stubborn ball of dough, their fingers brushing. Ivy felt a flutter in her chest she could no longer ignore.
“Careful,” she said softly, pretending to concentrate on the dough.
Lucas leaned closer, voice low.“I am… being careful,” he murmured, though the warmth in his eyes betrayed him.
The afternoon passed in easy rhythm. They tasted, shaped, and decorated, teasing each other over crooked cookies and playful mistakes. Every glance, every touch, every shared laugh deepened the connection that had been quietly building between them.
At one point, Lucas held up a finished cookie, shaped like a snowflake.“For you,” he said, offering it with a small, shy smile.
Ivy took it, their fingers brushing again.“Thank you,” she whispered, heart racing.“This… means a lot.”
He shrugged, pretending nonchalance, but his gaze lingered.“It should. You make every day feel… brighter.”
As the sun set outside, casting long shadows across the café, they leaned against the counter, sipping cocoa and stealing glances at each other. The slow burn of their romance was no longer just a flicker—it was a steady warmth, building in quiet moments of laughter, trust, and shared joy.
And Ivy realized that love didn’t need grand gestures to be unforgettable. Sometimes, it was in the scent of cinnamon, the brush of a hand, and the soft glow of candles on a winter evening.
Chapter 18:
Snowed In
The morning started with a heavy snowfall, Hawthorne’s streets quickly blanketed in white. Ivy shoveled the café entrance, grumbling under her breath as the flakes stuck to her hair and coat.
Lucas appeared, bundled in his usual scarf and coat, carrying a thermos.“Need a hand?” he asked, though his tone carried a teasing lilt.
