But I can’t.
I may not know her well, but I know enough that she doesn’t need someone like me in her life. She deserves someone better. Someone who can open his heart to her. That’s not me.
With that reminder, I turn and walk out the door, hoping she calls.
But at the same time, knowing she’s better off if she doesn’t.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CLAIRE
I inhale a deep breath,savoring the comforting aroma of pine and fresh earth. The cold nips at my cheeks and seeps through the seams of my coat, but I don’t mind. There’s a kind of magic in the crispness of the December air that’s always invigorated me.
Across the lawn, the Holley Ridge Christmas tree towers above everything, a giant Norway spruce that’s become the center of the annual Christmas festival. With the tree-lighting ceremony mere days away, the Sycamore Falls Fire Department is currently hard at work decorating it with thousands of twinkling lights.
I’m not the only one watching them, either.
It seems like every single female within a fifty-mile radius has decided to stop by Holley Ridge today for coffee or hot chocolate. Instead of cozying up by the fireplace inside the beautiful lobby, they’ve opted for seats on the large wraparound porch where the view of the tree and the firefighters is unobstructed.
“It’s definitely the most wonderful time of the year,” a familiar voice croons.
I smile as Grandma Estelle sidles up beside me, her cherry-red coat buttoned to the neck, a matching shade painted boldlyacross her lips. Her eyes, however, are fixed on the tree. Or more accurately, the broad-shouldered firefighter in dark blue pants and a thermal Henley whose muscles flex with every movement.
There was a time I found firefighters universally hot, apart from my future brother-in-law, Finn. Sure, he’s attractive, but he’s always been my sister’s best friend, so I never really saw him that way. Not like I did the other guys in the department.
But now?
I feel nothing. Not even a flutter. Not even for Murphy, who looks like he stepped off the cover of a firefighter charity calendar — perfect smile, dark hair, strong physique.
Because no matter who I look at, I find myself comparing them to Declan.
I try not to. God knows I’ve tried. But nothing has been the same since Boston. Sincehim.
I haven’t told a soul about the night I allowed myself to give in to my desires. I thought about telling my sister. Or my best friend and roommate, Dylan.
In the end, I decided it didn’t matter.
Or maybe I didn’twantit to matter.
But the truth is, that one night has left a mark I can’t scrub clean.
I still have the note Declan left, tucked away in the back of my desk drawer like a secret I can’t let go of. I’ve certainly read that note more times than I care to admit.
But I never texted.
Never called.
I’m not sure what’s stopped me. Maybe I’m scared the magic won’t be there. That it won’t be like I remember.
Or maybe I’m scared he’ll have changed his mind now that the fog of our incredible night together has faded.
I’m not sure I can handle that sort of rejection.
“I hope you enjoy the show today, Grandma Estelle,” I say with a smile.
“You know I will.” She gives me a waggle of her brow before returning her attention to the firefighters, pulling out a pair of binoculars from her purse with zero shame.
I simply shake my head and laugh as I continue walking through the grounds.
