by Melody Grace
What if she cut herself in pieces all over again?
Natalie tried to ignore her unease. She had no reason to feel this way. Her life was getting fuller, brighter every day, and Luke was a large part of that. He was kind and generous. He made her feel more like herself than she had in years, but still, she couldn’t shake the flicker of insecurity she felt watching him from across the room.
Loving Oliver had made her weak. Desperate. Scared.
She’d vowed never to feel that way again. But what if she couldn’t help it?
What if that was the only way she knew how to love?
Luke glanced up and saw her watching him. He broke into a smile and excused himself, making a beeline across the crowded room towards her. “Busy planning my gift?” he asked, teasing.
“Is that what I’m supposed to be doing? Whoops. I didn’t get the memo.” Natalie managed a smile.
“No worries, I’m easy.” Luke tugged her closer. “Just put a bow on it, and I’ll be happy.”
“It?” Natalie quirked an eyebrow, flirty, and Luke laughed, but she felt like she was going through the motions, acting like nothing was wrong when inside, she was tied up in knots.
They stayed for another round and said goodbye to their friends, but as they walked across the town square, an uneasy silence fell between them.
Natalie tried to think of something to say. Something that didn’t involve that treacherous four-letter word.
“So, Eliza says it might snow,” she announced brightly.
The weather? Really?
“It’s OK,” Luke said, seeing through her small talk in an instant. “I know I freaked you out with what I said earlier.”
Natalie inhaled. “I’m not freaked out,” she lied.
“No?” Luke gave her a wry smile. “Is that why you can’t look me in the eye? I didn’t say it because I’m expecting a response from you,” he added, before she could protest. “I didn’t mean to say it at all. I guess I got carried away, and it just . . . slipped out.”
He paused.
“I meant it, though.”
His voice was low and calm, and when she looked over, she saw that same steady smile that made her feel like everything was going to be alright. Like he knew the answers, somehow, and had it all figured out.
“How can you be so sure?” Natalie asked, her voice trembling.
“Some things you just know.” Luke’s gaze didn’t waver. “But I mean it, I’m not trying to rush you,” he added. “I’m happy taking all this slow. More than happy. Whatever you want, that’s all the matters to me.”
Natalie’s heart clenched in her chest. Here she was, tangled up in insecurities and doubt, while he waited patiently. Never pushing her. Never asking for more than she was ready to give.
She swallowed back the sting of tears, but Luke must have seen something in her expression, because he faltered, his footsteps slowing.
“Unless, you don’t want any of this . . .”
“No!” Natalie blurted. “I do. It’s not that. It’s not about you at all.” She tried to corral her thoughts into something that could make sense to him. A way to explain how she was feeling.
“I used to play the piano, did I ever tell you that?”
Luke looked confused. “No. I didn’t know.”
“Not that I was any good.” Natalie was tripping over her words. “I took lessons as a kid, but I still sucked. And that was kind of the point. It was just fun, trying to muddle through the pieces. A break from everything else, you know?”
Luke nodded slowly.
“Oliver had a piano in his apartment,” Natalie continued. “It was polished and gorgeous, and nobody ever touched it. I think we’d been dating for months before I realized he didn’t even play. I think he just liked the way it looked, like a prop to show how sophisticated he was. So, I started playing. Not when he was around, but if I was there after he left in the mornings or waiting on him to get back from work, I’d sit and try a basic piece. Just figuring out the finger sequence, having fun . . .”
She paused.
“I guess I got comfortable enough that I started doing it when he was around, too, because he started making comments about it. Joking about the racket and wincing every time I hit the wrong note. He’d ask why I never got any better if I spent all day practicing. They were just little digs, and he always made them with a smile, you know? So they never seemed like insults. But he made me feel . . . foolish, I guess. Like I was wasting my time. So, I stopped.” Natalie sighed. “I figured he was right, that there was no point to it.”
Luke reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“I am, too. I stopped a lot of things I liked,” she added. “Singing along to the radio and wearing red and eating crappy hot dogs with mustard and relish. I didn’t even mind, you see. I just wanted to make him happy. I wanted him to love me.”
Natalie swallowed and looked at him. “I’m scared of it happening again,” she confessed. “Getting so swept up that I don’t notice what I’m giving up—”
“It won’t happen,” Luke cut her off.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. Because I won’t let it,” he said, looking fierce. “I don’t want to change you, Natalie. Not one single thing. I love you for who you are, just the way you are.”
His words echoed through her, full of hope.
A promise that it could be different this time.
“Besides, you’re forgetting one thing,” Luke continued. He cupped a hand to her cheek, giving her an irresistible smile. “You. You’re stronger now, stronger than anyone I know. You know exactly who you are and what matters to you.”
Natalie wanted to believe him. “Some days I believe that, and some days . . . It’s hard, trusting myself again after everything.”
“So trust this: if I ever think you’re doing something just to make me happy, I’ll run out and buy a dozen crappy hot dogs,” Luke said. “Two dozen! Relish and all.”
Natalie smiled, for real this time. “Two dozen, huh? So what am I going to eat?”
Luke chuckled. “I’ll save you one, I promise.”
She squeezed his hand, overwhelmed with gratitude for this man. This heart-stopping, kind, insightful man who somehow knew how to calm even her stormiest doubts. She hadn’t known it was possible to be supported like this. To have a relationship that built her up, someone who believed in her the way Luke did.
But here she was, and every day, she treasured him more.
Natalie reached up and kissed him, trying to express just how much he meant to her. Luke’s arms came around her, sweeping her up in the rush of pure connection, that inexplicable heat that surged between them, stronger than ever. And when they reached her doorway to say goodnight, there wasn’t a question left in her mind. She took his hand.
“Stay.”
16
The days flew by, and before Natalie even realized it, it was mid-December, and the Starbright celebrations were well underway. Decorations hung from every frosty ledge and lamppost, carolers singing on every corner . . . If she’d thought the fall festivities were wild, they were nothing compared to this. The town looked like an explosion in an ornament store: every inch of Sweetbriar Cove was decked out in holly wreaths and holiday spirit, and a forty-foot tree was set in pride of place in the middle of the square, twinkling into the night.
Natalie loved it all, and not just the decorations. Her hot chocolate mix was flying off the shelves, and with lines around the block, she could hardly keep up with business at the store. She’d already hit her modest sales targets for the whole year, and it wasn’t even Christmas yet!
“What do you think about white chocolate and mint chip?” Natalie asked Luke as they lay in bed together, the pale morning sun beginning to creep through the windows. “Those star molds are tricky, but they would look so pretty dipped in gold leaf . . .”
“I think they’ll be a bestseller.” Luke dropped a kiss on her shoulder.
&nb
sp; Natalie snuggled beside him, yawning. She would have happily stayed right there in bed all day, but her clock radio was blinking at her, and her alarm was due to sound in three . . . two . . . one—
Luke reached out and hit the snooze button just in time. “Pretend that didn’t just happen,” he murmured, drawing her close. “We have ages left. Hours. Days . . .”
Natalie laughed. “Liar.” She reluctantly unwound herself from his embrace. “Coffee?” she asked.
“Always.”
She slid out of bed and grabbed a robe, then dashed across the small apartment to the kitchen. She filled the coffee filter, bouncing to keep her bare feet from lingering too long. “It’s cold!” she protested.
“Hurry!” Luke called, laughing. “Before you turn to ice.”
Natalie set the water to boil as her phone began to buzz on the table. She scooped it up. “Hello?”
There was silence.
Natalie sighed. “Is anyone there?” she asked again, then hung up.
“Who was it?” Luke asked.
She shrugged. “Telemarketers, probably. They always find me in the end.” She danced back across the freezing floorboards, diving into bed. Luke pulled her back into the warmth of the covers and wrapped her in a toasty bear hug, smothering her with kisses. “Warmer?” he asked in a husky voice, and Natalie burrowed closer into the nook of his arms.
“Getting there.”
“Good.”
He kissed her, a lazy morning kiss that Natalie would have gladly savored for hours. But with one week until Christmas, every shopping day counted—at least for her hungry customers. At last, she pulled away. “I should go put some clothes on,” she whispered, inches from his face.
Luke grinned back. “Unless you want to give your customers a surprise along with their candy.”
“Umm, maybe not.” Natalie laughed. “Some things are better kept between the two of us.”
“Like Snoopy.” Luke hooked his finger over the waistband of her pajamas, and Natalie shivered despite herself.
“Like Snoopy,” she agreed, flushing with desire for him.
As if reading her mind, Luke leaned closer, capturing her lips in a sizzling kiss. He rolled her beneath him, pressing her into the mattress with a delicious weight that left her panting.
Natalie moaned into his mouth, arching up against him. It still took her by surprise, how she could never get enough of his kisses . . . his touch . . . It was like her body was making up for lost time, all those months she’d felt numb and detached. But now, she thrummed with a constant rush of pure craving. Maybe in the past, she would have been self-conscious about just how much she wanted him. But Luke wasn’t complaining. And neither was she. Not when his mouth took her to heaven, and those capable hands left her panting, and his body made her come apart—twice—before she’d even had breakfast.
By the time she was pouring hot coffee into a Thermos for him and tugging a sweater over her head, it was safe to say that Natalie was all warmed up. “See you tonight?” she asked, leaning up for a goodbye kiss. “I’m meeting the girls for that cookie party, but I can swing by on my way home.”
“You plus fresh-baked goods?” Luke’s face lit up. “Did I tell you about that particular fantasy, or did you just guess . . . ?”
Natalie shoved him playfully. “You and every other man,” she said, laughing. “Play your cards right, and I might even share.”
“I’ll be on my very best behavior,” Luke promised with a rascal’s grin on his lips. “My very best bad behavior . . .” he added, leaning in to give Natalie a final smoldering kiss. “Just make sure you test densities,” he added.
Natalie blinked. “What now?”
“Of the gingerbread.” Luke’s expression turned deadly serious. “I’ve been drawing up designs for our house, but it all depends on the materials. We’ll need the consistency to be crisp but dense to take the structure load.”
It took Natalie another moment to realize her was talking about the big gingerbread house contest. She burst out laughing. “Don’t you think you’re taking it a tiny bit too seriously?” she asked through her giggles.
“Hey, no loser talk here,” Luke warned her. “That trophy has our name on it!”
“OK, OK!” she laughed.
“And think about binding agents, too, for the cement,” he added. “Frosting just won’t cut it for this!”
Natalie left him muttering about load-bearing biscuits and practically skipped down the stairs to the shop—where she found a line snaking halfway around the block.
This time, she was prepared for the crowds.
“Thanks for waiting, everyone!” she called, unlocking the door. “Come right on in. I have gift bags over to the left and Santa-shaped chocolates by the doors.” She ushered them inside, to where she’d already set out the morning’s displays after working until midnight to get everything restocked. The crowd surged forward, determined to tick another item off their holiday lists, and Natalie was almost knocked back by their enthusiasm.
She retreated to safety behind the main counter and reached for the gift wrap. “And if you really want to make an impression, I have a fresh batch of chili-spiced truffles here to taste!”
* * *
The truffles sold like, well, hot spiced truffles, and it was almost three p.m. before Natalie risked hanging a Be back soon sign over the door and dashing across the square to grab some new display dishes from Mackenzie—since the first batch had already sold out.
“You need to hire an assistant,” Mac said, when Natalie found her munching a sandwich in the back room. The gallery bustled outside, as busy as the chocolate shop with eager tourists and local shoppers. “Hell, hire two! I wouldn’t dream of facing the holiday season here alone. Working the gallery from dawn until dusk? I wouldn’t have time to keep up with making new designs.”
“It’s been tough,” Natalie admitted. “I’ve been staying late just making fresh candies for the next day—and I’m selling out before closing every time! I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly. “I’m thrilled about the business.”
“It’s a great problem to have,” Mac agreed with a grin. “But let me give you some phone numbers for holiday staff. You’ll be dropping dead of exhaustion before New Year’s. And then who’ll be left to make tiny chocolate leprechauns for St. Patrick’s Day?”
“Well, when you put it like that . . .” Natalie smiled. Mackenzie offered her bag of potato chips, and she grabbed a handful, ravenous. “Luke keeps offering to help out with the customers, but I don’t want to steal him when he has his own work to do.”
“Like planning the ultimate gingerbread house?” Mackenzie grinned. “He was talking to Cooper about it at the pub the other night for construction advice.”
Natalie laughed. “He and Jackson have a whole brotherly rivalry going,” she explained. “And when there are prizes involved . . . well, apparently, the Kinsellas go kind of crazy.”
“I think it’s sweet,” Mackenzie said. “Jake and I got together helping plan the Starbright festival, years ago,” she added with a nostalgic smile. “So I always think this time of year is especially romantic. Not to mention profitable.”
“Fingers crossed. So, can I grab more of the holly-pattern bowls?” Natalie asked. “I’ve been selling them as gift bundles, with the chocolates all wrapped inside, and people can’t get enough.”
“Absolutely! Here, take the box.” Mackenzie hauled it off the shelf and passed it to Natalie’s outstretched arms. “And if you’re selling my stuff for me, I should return the favor. Bring over any gift bags you have left and I’ll do some packages too.”
“Perfect!” Natalie beamed. “I’ll have the receipts for you at the end of the week, and we can settle up then.”
She took the box and headed back, lingering in the crowded square to listen to the carolers, belting out a number beside the tree. She wasn’t sure that “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” was exactly traditional holiday music, but Aunt Jun
e looked like she was having a ball up there, red feather boa and all.
Natalie smiled. It was already getting dark out, and the lampposts and holiday lights all glowed, welcoming in the dusk light. There was a new chill in the air, that crisp bite that made everyone snuggle deeper in their knit scarves and sent wisps of fog rising from steaming mugs of cocoa.
Maybe it would snow, after all . . .
Natalie was turning to go back to the shop when she caught a glimpse of someone in the crowd. Suddenly, her heart stopped, turning to ice in her chest.
No.
She froze, her pulse pounding wildly. He had his back turned to her, but she recognized the man’s tall frame and dark hair with a sick lurch of déjà vu.
Oliver.
How was it possible? She couldn’t believe it. What was he doing here? How had he found her? She stood there, paralyzed, her mind racing with panicked questions until someone bustled past, knocking into her.
“I’m sorry— Oh, Natalie!” It was Alice, laden down with shopping bags and half-hidden under a red knit hat. “I was just stocking up for the big bake-off tonight. Aunt June has a set of pipes on her, doesn’t she? Just wait until she starts in on ‘Santa Baby.’ ” Alice grinned, oblivious to the storm whirling in Natalie’s chest. “Anyway, I have to get back, I still need to pick out something for my mom. See you later!”
Alice hurried away, leaving Natalie stranded there, reeling, in the middle of the square. She turned back to where she’d seen Oliver, frantically searching every passing face for another glimpse of him, but the crowd had shifted, and there was no sign of him around.
He was gone—if he’d ever been there at all.
Natalie took a shuddering breath, trying to calm the adrenaline that surged through her body. It couldn’t have been him, she told herself sternly. Her eyes were playing tricks on her, that was all. Imagining the worst when really, there was nothing there to fear. She hadn’t even seen the man’s face, just the back of his head. And how many tall, dark-haired guys were there in the world? Plenty.
It was all in her mind.
