Tonight was no exception. Tom and Linda had driven over earlier today and planted our chairs in our favorite spot. Now Teagan, her brothers, and I arrived bearing gifts. Teagan and I brought thermoses of hot cocoa and a bottle of RumChata. Alex and his wife, Parker, brought a crockpot full of beef stew and paper bowls. Riley and his girlfriend, Kami, arrived with several options of popcorn and beer. And Linda and Tom had used theircamping table to set out a buffet of desserts from cookies to bars to puppy chow.
Everyone was smiles and hugs as we greeted each other and settled in. The mild evening was in the low fifties. The sun was setting. The park was filling up with families and couples and friend groups and happy puppies. An old-fashioned caroling group was singing in the gazebo. The mayor had dressed up like Santa and was greeting little kiddos. It was quite possibly the most festive evening of my life.
“The fire pit is a nice touch,” I told the group when there was a lull in conversation. Large cast iron contraptions in the shape of bowls had been set all over the park for groups to congregate around. Warm fires crackled happily, adding to the din of conversation.
“They’re new just this year,” Tom explained. “The boys had to fight the city council for a permit.”
“They had valid concerns,” Cooper said as he joined the group, grabbing a beer from Riley’s cooler and slumping into an open camping chair with his leg slung over the arm rest, like he was a young king here to give his loyal subjects some attention. “Nobody needs movie night to burn the whole town down.”
“You’re in charge of the firepits?” I asked, gobsmacked.
He jerked his chin toward the space behind me. “All the boss’s idea. I’m just the asshole who had to move all five hundred tons of them.”
The empty camping chair next to me creaked as it accepted the weight of the tall, dark-haired man I was hoping to avoid all night. “Pretty sure you only supervised the hard work, Coop.”
Cooper hid his smile behind a sip of beer. “Someone has to.”
I determined to ignore Sam completely. Even though he was directly next to me smelling of burning cedar and something orange and spicy. Even though he was excessively handsome with a fresh shave, a recent haircut, and a warm-looking, yetstill form-fitting, Patagonia coat that bore his Christmas Brights logo.
“Old man Derry finally broke down?” Tom asked about Mistletoe’s longtime mayor, leaning toward the fire and warming his big hands.
“As long as we keep an eye on them,” Sam explained. “My guys are working the event. They’ll add logs if you need them, put them out after. It’s a trial run, but they seem to be well received.”
I looked out across the green space where everyone huddled near their firepit. Laughter and conversation floated all around us. The bare trees and park buildings had been wrapped in Christmas lights. And there was the cutest hot chocolate cart next to a couple food trucks.
Alex’s eyes lit with amusement. “It’s impressive how you’ve turned a town tradition into a money-making machine, Autry.”
Sam’s low chuckle vibrated over me. “It’s just good business. That’s all.”
It hit me then. The twinkling lights, the hot cocoa stand with the Holiday Brights logo painted on the side. The firepits. The brand-new movie screen with an upgraded sound system.
“You did all this?” I asked, disbelief ringing through the small space between us.
Sam turned his head to look directly at me. His green eyes held my wide-eyed gaze. He nodded slowly. “What do you think?”
I took it in again. He really had taken a favorite town tradition and made it absolutely magical. This was the stuff Christmas dreams were made of. I’d come home all over again stepping into this park. This time without the nerves and impending doom. This time, my heart had settled into this nostalgic fantasy as if it had stepped back into the best partsof my past, as if all my good memories and favorite things had landed here with me.
But to Sam, I said, “It’s a little much, isn’t it?”
His eyes narrowed. “A little much?”
I settled back in my chair, tucking my blanket around my legs a little tighter, refusing to lean into the fire that I now knew was donated by Sam. Shrugging, I took a scalding sip of my hot chocolate, only just managing to keep a straight face even though I was pretty sure I’d just lost the top layer of my tongue. “I mean, it’s fine.”
He leaned forward, invading my personal space. “Why do you hate Christmas?”
“Hate Christmas? I don’t hate Christmas.”
“You hate the way Main Street looks. You hate the way the school looks. And now, you hate the way the park looks. I had no idea you were such a Grinch, Haden.”
Finding myself more offended than I wanted to admit, I waved him off. “I’m not a Grinch.” But wasn’t I? Just a little? Ever since that fateful Christmas under the mistletoe all those years ago, Christmas had lost its luster. Hudson had tried to start Christmas traditions with me after we started dating, but nothing had been able to worm its way into my ice-cold heart. He’d once brought up the idea of proposing over the holidays, and I had freaked out so badly, I’d hurt his feelings.
Which turned out to be a gift in disguise, as he’d then never gotten around to proposing.
“You’re a mean one,” he said in a low murmur, a smile dancing over his full lips. “You’re as cuddly as a cactus.”
“Oh, my gosh, stop.”
He tapped my nose with a gloved fingertip. “As charming as an eel.”
