Christmas in Pine Island: A small town holiday romance
Page 5
Jacob Eckart
My head is spinning with thoughts of the beautiful holiday memories I'm about to make with Ryan and Stacy. This will be the perfect cap on Ryan’s last Christmas as an only child, and I plan on making sure he has a ton of fun.
He might be my nephew, but he’s a son to me in every sense of the word—and to Stacy too. Adopting him after Jenny died has been one of the best decisions of my life. One made much easier by the amazing woman by my side.
I still don’t know what I did to get so lucky.
For a long time, I’d thought luck forgot about me. Losing my parents at a young age, I was raised by my sister. Then when she died too . . . Well to say I’d given up is a bit of an understatement.
I was young and stupid, and I did some things I wasn’t proud of in the months after Jenny’s death. Mostly, I lived up to my reputation as the Hartbreak Kid and the tabloids never let me forget it.
I’d truly lost my way back then, but thanks to Stacy, I’ve found where I belong again. With her, and Ryan and our new little one on the way.
A lot has changed in my life and I know even more changes are coming, but there’s still lots of fun to be had once Ryan steps into his big brother role. But I want to make sure he knows how much I love being a father figure to him first.
I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t have any family left to lean on, but it’s really important to me that Ryan feels included in this new family we’re building. He’s in the same boat as me. No parents, no siblings.
Stacy gets it. Even though she has a huge family, they’re not really all that close anymore. I guess that’s why we just fit together so well. We were three lone wolves before we found each other.
I’m so thankful I found my pack.
Stacy and I have already discussed all the ways we want to make Ryan feel special once he has to share our love and attention with another child, but so far, he’s just as stoked for the baby as we are. It won’t be long until the news gets out because he’s been telling everyone who will listen about the fact that he’s going to be a big brother.
Honestly, it makes me smile. I’m happy we can give him a sibling—someone to grow up and share secrets with. It’s truly a priceless gift. One I’m only just starting to appreciate now that I’ve lost my sister.
Stacy’s hand abruptly curls around my wrist as we make our way down the hallway leading to our penthouse apartment. She pulls me to a stop, chewing her bottom lip. It’d been obvious enough that she had a lot of things running through her mind while we were at Club Thorn, so it doesn’t surprise me that she looks so pensive right now. But I know my girl, she’ll talk when she’s ready, so I’ve been exercising patience.
“Hey,” she says softly, looking up at me with eyes so worried that it makes my heart almost break. As much as I want to protect her from the world, that’s just not always feasible, especially when we’re about to grow our family.
“Hey yourself,” I answer, cupping her small face in my hands. She’s so petite that I loom over her curvy figure. “What’s up, sweetheart? Talk to me.”
“Are we really doing this?”
I laugh softly, smoothing my hands against the gentle curve of her belly. “Stace, it’s a little late for second thoughts here.”
“Not the baby,” she says, swatting my hands away.
I know she isn’t talking about our baby, but I want to lighten the moment—anything to take the worry from her gorgeous eyes.
It works, because she’s smirking up at me now. “I meant, are we really going on this trip?” she asks. “Leaving so suddenly is pretty insane, right? What if Ryan doesn’t have a good time? What if the lodge isn’t kid-friendly? What if he gets bored?”
I pull her to me by the lapels of her jacket and lean my forehead against hers. “You really think Ryan won’t enjoy himself? That kid can have fun anywhere. Not to mention that once this little one arrives, there won’t be much chance for spontaneity,” I add, my hands moving down her delicious curves. “Like you said earlier, let’s enjoy this moment while we can.”
Stacy sighs, leaning up onto her tiptoes to steal a kiss. I can tell by her knotted brow that she’s not entirely convinced.
“Is something else bothering you?” I ask.
But before she can answer, our apartment door suddenly flies open.
“You’re home!” Ryan yells.
The little boy rushes forward so fast that he’s nothing more than a brown-haired blur. Behind him, the babysitter laughs and gives an exasperated shake of her head. “I tried to get him to go to sleep earlier but . . .”
“He’s as energetic as his uncle,” Stacy chuckles.
“I wanted to wait until you guys got back!” Ryan says, excitedly. “How many days until Santa comes again?”
“Well, today is Christmas Eve-Eve, so two more sleeps!” Stacy answers.
“Two more sleeps! Two more sleeps!” Ryan echoes as he bounces around us in circles.
I kneel down, catching him and tickling his sides until he’s gasping for air. Stacy pays the sitter while I wrangle the wiggling little boy. Once inside, I collapse on our overstuffed couch with Ryan. He sits on my knee, grinning happily. Visions of sugarplums have definitely been dancing in his head lately, and he smells faintly of chocolate, thanks to conning his babysitter into letting him have chocolate milk, no doubt.
“Speaking of Christmas . . . ” I begin slowly, “how would you feel about going to a Christmas tree farm for the big day, buddy?”
Ryan’s head tilts back and forth. His mouth screws one way and then the other. “Will Santa still be able to find us?”
Laughing, I nod. “You bet!”
“Woah, seriously?” Ryan stands up again and looks from me to Stacy. “And this is a real Christmas tree farm? Like where baby Christmas trees grow up?”
I nod.
Ryan’s face brightens. “Do you think there are big brother Christmas trees there, Stacy? Can I see them?”
Her face lights up with a smile and she nods. “Of course, sweetie.”
“Yes! Let’s go!” Ryan roars, racing around like the Tazmanian Devil again.
Stacy sighs, smirking at me above the melee. “Well, I guess I can’t say no now.”
She reaches down and playfully pinches Ryan’s cheek as he runs over to throw his arms around her. Shooting me an impish glare she says, “You know this better not be a common theme with the baby—you guys all ganging up on me with your cuteness to get your way!”
“No promises,” I tease.
She laughs again, shaking her head back and forth. “I hope I'm having a girl to even the teams. It’s two on one now!”
“So?” Ryan asks, desperately. “Are we going? Are we really?” He looks between Stacy and me, his hands folded tight as he begs us.
“We’re going!” Stacy declares.
Ryan gives an ecstatic shriek as he wraps his arms tighter around Stacy. I walk over and scoop them both up against me, hugging them tightly.
In my mind, the precious Christmas memories have already begun. Maybe I really can pull this family thing off.
Donovan Dunn
Chloe bustles around me, somehow simultaneously cleaning while she packs. I haven't even gotten out my suitcase yet, a little too distracted by the deep dive I’ve been doing into Pine Island since leaving Club Thorn.
“Hmm . . . this place is an enigma,” I say, pursuing the website for Everett’s Christmas Lodge & Tree Farm.
It’s located in the small town of Pine Island, New York. I’d never heard of the remote upstate location until today, but it’s quite a hidden gem. The whole town seems devoted to celebrating Christmas year-round. What a concept!
“The lodge has great reviews,” I note, scrolling through the info online. “Their site could use some work though. It’s a little outdated. It doesn’t appear like they utilize social media much at all.”
Chloe, who’s been quiet since we left the club, though I assume it’s because this is such a last-min
ute venture, remains silent. I look up to see she’s given up on packing and is now solely focused on cleaning—not a good sign.
Cleaning is how she copes with stress. The cleaning crew I keep staffed is a point of daily contention for us. The last thing I want Chloe doing is picking up after me, no matter how many times she says she enjoys it. We both work too hard to have to worry about things like that.
But I know I have my quirks, too. Chloe is the type of woman who likes to be able to take her time planning things, so I get how this hasty trip has thrown her world a bit off its axis.
Aiming to distract her, I catch her hand as she passes and pull her toward me. “Look at this with me for a minute,” I urge until she sinks down beside me on the couch.
I lay my phone down and extend an arm toward her, welcoming my fiancée to cuddle up against my side. Chloe rests her head on my chest, her fingers splaying out over my suit jacket. Though we’re snuggled together, her body feels strangely tense. I stroke my fingers through her thick, dark hair, admiring the way it gleams like a raven’s wing. She truly is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met, inside and out.
I'm so glad that I get to spend my life with her.
I'm also glad she’s on such a similar wavelength as I am, down to talk about work anytime. She’s one of the only other people I’ve met that’s as business oriented as I am, and I adore that about her.
Scanning the website, she offers an uncharacteristic shrug. “Maybe they’re just not into social media?”
My shoulders stiffen. “Well that’s a mistake. If they want to maximize their profits and outreach, they’d better stop skipping a very important marketing opportunity.”
Slowly, her head lifts. She stays silent for a moment, her eyes searching mine, though I can’t tell what she’s looking for. “Don’t you think this might be a fun chance to focus on us and our friends for a bit, instead of work?”
“Since when do you not want to talk shop?”
She shrugs. “I just think we should use this trip to make our relationship stronger.” Her mouth opens again as if she has something further to say, but she changes her mind and purses her lips instead, still gazing intensely at me.
Stronger? Wasn’t I just sitting here thinking how perfect we are for each other?
“Okay . . .” I say, carefully, “but why not fit a little work in, too? This place could be a great potential client. Besides, how much stronger can our relationship get? I mean, not many couples can run a successful business together. What we have . . . it’s one in a million. Don’t you think?”
“Of course,” Chloe murmurs. “I just . . .”
“Just what?” I press, still stroking her beautiful hair.
She gives a faint smile and shakes her head, gently pushing away from me so she can climb to her feet. She turns, walking toward the bedroom to finish packing.
“Chloe?” I call after her, sitting up straighter. “What do you mean? You just, what?”
She pauses in the doorway of our bedroom, leaning against the frame. The soft light from within shines around her, silhouetting her slender figure and shrouding her expression.
“Nothing, Donovan,” she states, quietly. “I just want us to enjoy ourselves this holiday.”
I gaze at her, bewilderment flickering inside of me. I don’t know what she’s referring to. Chloe and I bonded over work. It’s what brought us together in the first place. We love what we do. Wouldn’t bringing it along on this holiday trip make everything that much more enjoyable?
“I want that, too,” I answer, sincerely.
She simply nods again before disappearing back into the bedroom.
I sink back against the couch, trying to figure out what suddenly feels so out of place between us.
Chloe Price
I take another indulgent sip of the perfectly flavored spiked hot cocoa, savoring the cinnamon dusted across the whipped cream. Everything feels perfect as Ethan, my longtime fiancé and I snuggle up in front of a crackling fireplace, spirited Christmas tunes playing in the background. Garlands are strung about the whole lodge, scattering the flickering light of the festive bonfire in a sparkling prism of colors.
“Now this is what Christmas is all about,” Ethan murmurs, happily.
“You can say that again,” I giggle.
Instead of dinner, we’d feasted on sugar cookies and other treats, and of course, my famous hot chocolate. The buttered rum I added has left my mind pleasantly buzzing and my body warm. Near the fire my Yorkie, Darcy, is bundled up in one of her festive Christmas sweaters, snoozing away in her dog bed.
Sighing, I add, “I just wish we’d been able to fill some of our vacancies.”
Our last guests checked out this morning.
With my parents gone for the holiday, I really wanted to show them that we could handle running things. But it’s Christmas Eve-Eve and the whole lodge is empty! That’s never happened before and I can’t help but feel disappointed.
I frown. “At this rate, we’ll be watching Miracle on 34th Street all by our lonesome instead of with guests like we normally do.”
“Would that be so bad?” Ethan asks, his piercing green eyes making my heart race as he draws me closer.
I shake my head, not sure if it’s his charming smile or the spiked cocoa that’s making me dizzy.
He kisses me thoroughly and when we come up for air, I can’t remember what we were even talking about until Ethan says, “The lodge did fine this season. Your parents will be more than proud of you.”
“I know,” I say, trying hard to make myself believe it.
But it is a big deal that my parents left us in charge. I really want to wow them by having our best year yet. Ethan’s right, though. We did more than okay. But still, it’s strange that we’re vacant now. And even worse, we have no new reservations until after the new year.
I felt so bad seeing the staff standing around twiddling their thumbs this morning that I sent them home. I’d rather they get to spend the holidays with their own family and friends than helping us manage the mundane maintenance of the lodge.
I’ve been working here since I could walk, so it isn’t a big deal. I guess that’s one perk of Christmas being the family biz. I’ve gotten used to every day feeling like a holiday so it’s not a big deal to have to do a little work on Christmas.
But I won’t have any work to do this holiday if we don’t book some rooms!
Unable to keep my optimism at bay for long I smile up at Ethan. “You, know . . . There’s still time to take a few last-minute reservations.”
Ethan shakes his head, laughing softly at my hopefulness. “It’ll take a Christmas miracle to book our rooms now . . .”
“It could happen,” I argue.
Ethan nods faintly, his focus now on the popping, sizzling logs cheerfully blazing. I watch him, captivated by the streaks of gray in his beautiful green eyes. They always remind me of lightning in storm clouds.
“Thank you for being here with me,” I add, softly. My ridiculously educated husband-to-be could do anything, yet here he is, helping me run my family’s tree farm. I’m sure he didn’t picture this when he was getting his Columbia degree.
My statement earns his attention and he twists his head to meet my eyes. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Chloe. You know that, right?” When I don’t respond he snuggles me closer. “By your side is where I'm meant to be.”
A blush rises on my cheeks and I can feel them turning a shade of crimson that would match Darcy’s sweater.
Before I can answer, the lobby phone suddenly rings.
Ethan and I stare at one another in shock as the phone rings again, shrilly rising over the rhythmic tune of The Little Drummer Boy.
“A Christmas miracle you say?” I tease.
He lightly pushes me to my feet and nods toward the phone. “You’d better hurry!”
Laughing, I dart across the lobby. Since no one else is around, I’m dressed in cozy red and black buffalo plaid pajama
s with matching socks that have me sliding across the floor.
By the time I scooped up the phone, I’m breathless.
“Everett Christmas Lodge & Tree Farm, this is Chloe Price wishing to make your Christmas dreams come true!” I offer, merrily.
Ethan turns from where he’s seated on the couch. His strong arms drape over the back of the leather sofa so that he can watch me curiously.
A polite male voice responds. “Hello, Miss Price! I know this is last-minute but I'm hoping you have some space available for my client. He’d like to check in tomorrow morning, Christmas Eve. He would need three rooms. Two adults each in the first two, and then two adults and a child in the third. Do you happen to have any availability? It’s for Eric King if that makes a difference.”
“Eric King?” I shriek, almost dropping the phone.
I have to struggle to catch my breath, my socked feet almost slipping out from under me. I grab the counter to steady myself, still clutching the phone to my cheek with my other hand.
“Are you talking about the Eric King?” I whisper.
“The one and only,” the man says, humor in his voice now.
Tabloid photos from my favorite gossip magazines flash through my mind like a roll of film unspooling. Eric King, lead singer of Social Kingdom, posing with his band—the hottest rock and rollers since the Stones. Eric King with the gorgeous supermodel, Morgan May, on his arm, flashing a massive engagement ring. Eric King hanging out in some VIP lounge with his NFL bestie, the Hartbreak Kid. Eric King at some posh gala fundraiser with the who’s who of the business world. The list went on and on!
How much rum did I put in those hot cocoas?
I take a breath, reminding myself that there’s no way this is real. Someone’s just messing with me. “Owen?” I hedge. “Is that you? Did Ethan put you up to this? Because it’s not funny.”
“Uh, this isn’t a joke, Miss Price.”
Across the lobby, Ethan is silently laughing and shaking his head back and forth. He slaps his palm against his head, peeking at me from between his fingers. Even Darcy’s cracked open one eye and perked her ears.