“Of course,” she says cheerfully. “I’m super stoked. Your deal was fair, and I appreciate that.”
“The next one will be too,” I tell her happily. “Should we work on it tomorrow?”
“Definitely,” she says. “And one more thing—I wanted to ask a favor.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“David told me you’re staying there in the Poconos?” she asks. “He said you have a bookshop?”
“I do,” I tell her.
“I’d like to visit,” she says. “I want to meet those kids, maybe sign their books, if you think they’d be interested?”
“Oh, Iknowthey would be,” I tell her, practically levitating out of my chair with excitement. “You’re welcome anytime. I just need to get more copies ofStarhoofin stock so they can bring their friends.”
“Enjoy your dinner now,” she says. “We can make plans tomorrow. And thank you, Taylor. Thank you for helping me realize a dream.”
“It was my dream too,” I tell her honestly. “And the book you wrote is so much better than any fantasy I ever had.”
I stop there because if I keep talking I’m pretty sure I’m going to cry.
“We’re a good team,” she says simply. But I can hear the tears in her voice too.
“Was that…?” Roan asks.
I nod, still too thunderstruck to say another word.
“And she wants to come here?” he asks.
I nod again.
“Taylor,” he says. “I’m starting to think you’re right about staying in Angel Mountain. In fact, I’m starting to think you’re always right about everything.”
21
TAYLOR
The time between our first real date and Christmas seems to fly past. I’m busy with the shop, and Roan and the family take turns selling the last of the Christmas trees.
But we go out whenever we can, even if it’s just for coffee at the diner, where Annie has a display of my bookmarks by the cash register.
Roan watches me stir my coffee for a second and then pour in creamer afterward so that it swirls around in black and white circles before the whole mixture turns light brown. It makes him chuckle, but I notice he’s started doing the same thing. And I count that small thing a big victory because there’s no reason to make swirls in your coffee except for fun. And Roanismore fun these days, even if it’s a journey getting there sometimes.
But the journey is rewarding, because the more I get to know this hopeful and happy version of Roan Connelly the more I love him.
Meg surprised me the other day by asking if she could bring a friend from school to the bookshop with her. Seeing her curled up on that couch with another little girl her own age, both laughing over graphic novels made my heart smile. She’s only ten, but I feel like I’m seeing flashes of the young woman she’s going to become one day, and I’m so proud of her.
On Christmas Eve, the three of us work in the shop until long after dark. There are plenty of last-minute shoppers who are happy to find a store that’s open late on Christmas Eve. I get a real kick out of hearing Meg and Roan ask questions and make book suggestions to some of the customers who maybe wouldn’t have picked the bookshop if they’d had other options. They both have some pretty good ideas, and they definitely know what stock is here since they helped me unpack most of it.
We’re all yawning by the time we flip the sign and I tell them good night. When I get back upstairs by myself, I feel a little sad about not seeing my family again this year. I call my Grammy and she talks my ear off for a bit before passing the phone around. They’re all happy for me, and though they’ll miss me tomorrow, it’s also a happy feeling this time. They know that missing the holiday with them this year isn’t because of my boss in the city, but because of my own littleshop. And they know I’ll spend tomorrow with the Connellys, not by myself in a New York apartment.
I finally drift off in the wee hours of what is now officially Christmas, as excited as I used to be as a little girl waiting for Santa. Only this year, I’m filled with anticipation about Christmas on the farm. I know I should be nervous over celebrating the holidays with my boyfriend’s family for the first time. But we’ve been spending time together all month, so there’s nothing to do but look forward to good food and good company.
Christmas morningit’s snowing hard, and I start to worry that maybe Roan won’t come for me after all. I spend a few minutes at my bedroom window, watching the big lacy flakes swirl down over the town, putting a fresh carpet of white over the street and the sidewalks, and I remind myself that it’s still going to be a magical Christmas, even if I spend it alone.
I shower, dress, and head down to the shop, trying to get excited about curling up on the couch with a book myself.
But Roan does come, bright and early, and he’s by himself.
