A bitter laugh wrenched from my chest. “You didn’t know what to do. I get that. She’s . . . she’s something else.”
He winced. “Never again.”
We sat there silently, letting the past wash over us. For me, it was a release. It had always been a moment that crushed me, no matter how old the memory became or how determinedly I’d tried to move on. I couldn’t think about that night or that kiss or even the kiss he and I had shared without total heartbreak. Hearing his side of the story after all this time was more healing than I knew it could be. Seeing the reciprocated pain on his face was a balm to the rawest parts of me.
I believed him. After all these years, and after assuming the worst about him the whole time . . . the honesty in his eyes was unmistakable.
Relief. That was the emotion—sweet, whole, beautiful relief.
“What now?” I whispered through choked emotions. Outside the truck, snowflakes started to fall. Even though it was still early evening, the December sun had started to set, and the sky was turning orange and pink at the edges of the horizon, beneath the gray, snow-laden clouds.
His smile was gentle, hopeful. “Now we skate.”
CHAPTER 12
Hot Chocolate Confessions
“Ihave a confession.” I set the steaming mug of hot chocolate on the table, careful not to tip the cup over. The huge mittens and Holiday Brights coat Sam gave me were warm but bulky.
We’d spent the last hour skating in circles, tripping and falling at first, then gradually making progress until we could stay upright. Mostly. We’d laughed and talked, and his hands had never left my body until we sat down to enjoy some warm drinks at one of the nearby tables.
Sam looked at me expectantly, cheeks rosy from the cold, dark hair dusted in snowflakes. He was so beautiful to look at, so incredibly handsome. But it was the way he was looking at me that made me hum inside, made my bones vibrate, made my tummy flip, and my heart flutter.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I don’t like hot chocolate.” I pressed my lips together as he visibly relaxed. “I try. I mean, I really try. But unless it has some booze in it, it’s too rich for me.”
His head tipped back as he laughed. “I knew I should have brought the Bailey’s.”
I flashed a smile. “Next time.”
His gaze softened, warmed, then heated to something as blazing as the fire behind me. “I like that idea.”
When the silence stretched between us, wrung tight with tension, I looked away and examined the adorable space, now aglow with bulb lights now that the sun had fully set. “This is a great idea, by the way. When does it open?”
“Tomorrow is the soft opening. We’re not charging to skate, but we’re hoping not to be overrun on the first night as we figure out skate rentals and concession stands.”
“You’re not charging for any of it?” I couldn’t believe it. It was the stuff winter dreams were made of. The people of Mistletoe and the surrounding small towns were going to love it.
“For concessions, yes, but not for the skating portion.” He shrugged like it was an obvious choice. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s purely business. Earlier this year, we bought this land. I’ll eventually build my shops out here, and one day soon,soon-ish, I plan to add a nursery. I want people to be used to the drive. I want it all to feel like an obvious choice.”
“You’re basically Santa at this point, you know that?”
His lips quirked in an embarrassed smile. “If Santa were driven by profits.”
Gosh, maybe what he was saying was the opposite of cute, but he was so adorable about it. “So you’re doing okay? Sam Autry has really made something of himself?”
He shrugged. “Couldn’t have done it without help, although please never tell that to Cooper.” His mouth pulled into an affectionate smile for his best friend. “But yeah, business is good. It helps that Mistletoe was in desperate need of a facelift.”
“Now that is the truth.” I leaned forward, letting him see how much I meant it when I said, “I’m really impressed. I left town because I didn’t think there was any reason to stay. I didn’t think there was a future here for any of us. And you’ve proved me wrong.”
“Not an easy thing to do,” he said kindly.
I rolled my eyes. “A very easy thing to do. Look at me now—crawling back to town with my tail between my legs, begging for work and housing. I proved me wrong too.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself. You didn’t crawl back here. You came willingly to a position that needed you.”
“Not exactly willingly. Let’s not give me too much credit. But I just . . . I needed a reset. Teagan was a sanctuary in my self-made storm.”
