“Yes.”
“How can you be sure?”
She slid out of the booth and came to sit next to him. “When I first met you and found out why you were here, I was angry. Not at you, but at the situation.”
“Completely understandable.” He looked her in the eyes. “You’re not anymore?”
“I’m concerned for the future, but I’m not angry.”
“What changed?”
“I stopped being a brat.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped her. “That week you showed up, I was already annoyed.”
“Why?” He vaguely remembered her saying something of the sort, but she hadn’t elaborated, and he hadn’t realized how much she would come to mean to him a short time later.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m embarrassed to say, but since you confessed to loving Star Wars, I’ll tell you.”
“You’re funny.” He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“It’s okay. In case you haven’t noticed, I love Christmas.”
His exaggerated gasp drew stares from the table next to them. “You don’t say.”
“Shocking, right?” Cute dimples appeared when she smiled. “It started when my mother told me my sister wants to host Christmas dinner this year. I’ve done it every year since graduating college. I agreed to let Flora host, but it was extremely reluctantly and not without pouting to myself.”
“Why was it so important to you?”
“Because I wanted my family together.” She must have seen his mouth start to point out the obvious, but she stopped him with an explanation. “I had a friend in college whose parents were killed her sophomore year. After that, her siblings didn’t get together anymore for the holidays. In my mind, I thought I could prevent something similar from happening if anything happened to my parents by hosting it.”
“I can understand.” He’d seen it happen before, but she didn’t need stories right now, only a listening ear.
“Then, I was going to decorate my yard the next day—I was already a week behind—but the snow came and ruined those plans.” She sighed. “Again, I handled it with the maturity of a toddler who couldn’t have a cookie for dinner.”
“What changed?” He absently traced the outline of her hand.
She looked at his hand, then at him, and she smiled. “I realized my priorities were wrong. Here I was, talking about the Hope of Christmas, and I’d shoved it aside. God has a plan for my life, and I have to trust him.”
“So true, but easier said than done.”
“Oh yes, but when I thought about it, I realized His hand has been all over this Christmas season.”
Intrigued, he sat up straighter. “How?”
“Had I been able to decorate on my planned day, I wouldn’t have switched with Marie, and then I wouldn’t have been at the store when you came in.”
He took a sharp breath. “I have a confession. I was in the night before, but you’d already left for the day.”
Calmly and unfazed, she continued smiling. “Either way, God brought you into my life exactly when it was right.”
“I like how you think.” He dusted a kiss on her head. “For the record, I agree.”
“There’s more. I realized that if I had been in charge of Christmas dinner, I’d be tied up for days in advance preparing. Between that and the store, I wouldn’t have a minute of free time.”
“Or a second.” His mind spun thinking how busy she’d be.
“Don’t you see? God knew you’d enter my life and freed my schedule for me. He knows what we need long before we could ever dream it.” She tapped his arm. “That, my dear, is how I can be sure my feelings for you won’t change regardless of what happens with Mistletoe Mercantile. I have renewed faith that God’s plans are higher than mine.”
His heart exploded, and in that moment, he fell in love. He only wished they weren’t sitting in a restaurant booth so he could pull her into his arms and show her with a kiss.
