“We should do little mistletoes hanging over both entrances,” he said, clearly thinking about the design they’d just had approved and not…kissing.
The Mistletoe on Main committee had loved their joint concept and Eleanor made such a huge deal over how adorable it was and how it promoted peace on Earth—or at least peace between rivals.
Whatever, they were committed to this now.
Eleanor droned on about the event, chatting about live reindeer and the tree lights, the carolers and an elf parade, and, of course, The Skating Spectacular with Santa.
A few people in the front row argued about the placement of the Nativity scene, and old Mr. Knowles stood up and asked that his golden retriever be allowed to play a sheep.
Marshall inched closer again. “And here I thought I was moving to a sophisticated ski resort town.”
“Emphasis ontown,” she said, smiling up at him. “Small, sweet, and not sophisticated.”
“I love it,” he murmured, his dark eyes glinting. “I feel like I’m inGilmore Girls.”
She wasn’t sure what surprised her most—the fact that he watched girly TV shows or liked the small-town vibe. But what really surprised Gracie was the fact that, despite the proximity to a man who turned her legs to Jell-O, she was surprisingly comfortable.
From the moment they’d started to walk together to the meeting, Marshall had put her at ease. She’d let him lead their two-minute presentation of their gingerbread house, but he had given her praise and credit and had talked to every person with an amazing amount of humility.
Every time someone mentioned his NFL career, he acknowledged the compliment and interest and asked a question about their lives and jobs.
Pure class, as MJ would say, and it went a long way to making Gracie feel completely relaxed with him.
When Eleanor adjourned the meeting and the room filled with chatter, laughter, and the crinkle of puffy jackets as everyone rose, Gracie decided she couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed a town meeting so much.
They both talked to a few more people, then made their way outside to find Park City glittering in holiday finery.
The Christmas lights strung from lamppost to lamppost twinkled red, gold, and white, and the air smelled like cinnamon and firewood. The street looked like a postcard for small-town holidays and Gracie was oddly proud of her home as she tugged her scarf tighter.
“That went better than expected,” she said as she and Marshall fell into step together, heading down the sidewalk.
They passed the twinkling storefronts and spotted the window of Sugarfall, shining soft and warm a block away. Across the street, Atticus Coffee’s windows glowed with amber light, wreaths on every pane.
“Look,” he said. “Atticus stays open late for the whole month of December.”
She nodded, then glanced up at him. “You think you want to extend holiday hours?”
He laughed. “Not everything is about work, Gracie. I think I want to extend our evening together.” He gestured toward the beloved coffee and tea shop, which looked achingly inviting in the snow. “I’ve got the babysitter for another hour, so…tea?”
Her heart did a strange little skip when she nodded. Not the usual skip of overanalyzing or feeling the tension that came with life as an introvert, either.
The fact was, she couldn’t dream of saying no.
“I’d love that,” she said. “But only if you promise not to judge me for putting sugar in my lavender Earl Grey.”
He made a face and grunted, hammering his chest with his fist. “You’re killing me, Ms. McBride.”
She laughed as they crossed the street and walked up freshly salted steps to the charming brick building. Then they stepped into a warm Park City landmark that was part coffee shop, part bookstore, and one big community.
The café was all cozy Christmas, with strings of fairy lights looped across exposed beams. A tiny tree sparkled in the corner,and someone had stacked gingerbread-scented candles by the counter.
Atticus was hopping, proving that extended hours made a lot of sense at this time of year.
They snagged a table near the bookshelves and Marshall went to the counter and got their order, smiling kindly at the barista.
At the table, Gracie pulled off her gloves and slipped out of her jacket, eyeing the snowflakes drifting past the streetlights outside the window.
Marshall came back with drinks and took the seat across from her, leaning the backpack he’d brought to the meeting against his chair.
