Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“No, not at all.” My throat tightens with foreboding, but before I can demand to know what she’s up to, I hear Vivian’s laughter from across the room.
My head jerks to the right, my blood pressure spiking as my cousin and her family file inside, exchanging pleasantries with the other locals attending the reading as they move toward the cookie station.
I whip my gaze back to Kayla to ask why Vivian’s here, after I explicitly asked her to tell my cousin we were too full to welcome locals this year. But Kayla’s already on the move, bustling across the room to dim the lights. “All right, folks,” she burbles in her hospitality voice, “It’s almost story time. Find a cozy spot and settle in while I light The Night Before Christmas candle!”
Gritting my teeth, I collect the leatherbound book from the shelf and move to the small raised platform beside the tree. When we first started this tradition, I sat in the overstuffed chair in the corner and read to the ten or twelve kids who showed up in their pajamas. But in the past five years, the event has grown, becoming the first stop in the Christmas Eve festivities for guests and locals alike.
People fill up on cookies and cocoa here before walking through the light display behind the country store and ending the evening with a Santa watch and caroling in the town square. The kids have a blast, and the grown-ups do, too.
I should have known my cousin would ignore the request to stay away. As selfish as she can be, she wouldn’t want to deprive my nephews of one of their holiday traditions.
I don’t want to do that, either, but I’d be lying if I said my stomach wasn’t eating itself as my gaze flicks over Gilly’s sweet little face. He doesn’t look like Leo—he has Vivian’s blond curls and giant hazel eyes—but that doesn’t matter. I know he’s Leo’s son, and I can’t unknow that, no matter how much I might want to.
And maybe their appearance on the scene is a good thing. Maybe, if I move fast enough, I can catch Vivian and pull her aside before they leave the inn.
I have to convince her to contact Leo and tell him the truth, before the burden of this secret eats me alive.
But first, to pretend I’m in the holiday spirit for a little bit longer…
“Welcome everyone. I’m so glad you could join us tonight,” I say, with a smile that begins to feel more natural as I scan the faces lifted to mine. Everyone looks so happy, so excited for the night ahead and the chance to share this special time of year with the people who matter most.
There is love in the world, and I’m so grateful for it, even while I’m chin-deep in the swamp of broken hearts.
“Cuddle your stuffies close and listen for sleigh bells,” I say, the usual magic creeping into my voice as Kayla dims the lights a bit more. “Because this is Santa’s favorite story, and sometimes he swings by to listen in.”
“That’s why we left cookies on the front porch!” a little girl with bright red curls calls out from the back, sending a wave of laughter through the room.
I nod. “That’s right. And carrots, too, for the reindeer. And now, The Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore.”
I pull in a breath, but before I can read the first line, a gasp sounds from the corner of the room and my cousin squawks, “What are you doing here? You have to go. Now! Right now!”
“I’m not going anywhere. Not until I talk to Caroline,” a deep voice rumbles, sending electricity jolting through me.
My eyes meet Leo’s across the room and my heart soars.
Nothing has changed, our stars are still crossed beyond repair, but I can’t help it, I can’t look at this man without joy flooding through my every cell.
“Frank, make him leave,” Vivian shrieks, clawing at her husband’s arm. “Call the police if you have to. I told you, he’s dangerous.”
“Oh, he is not,” Kayla snaps. “Now, be quiet, and let everyone enjoy the story. And then Caroline is going to talk to this nice man who drove all the way from New York City to see her, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“That’s right.” Leo’s lips curve in a warm, confident smile that makes the hopeless romantic in me positive that everything will work out.
I remind myself that he doesn’t know about Gilbert or how complicated our connection would be going forward, but my heart refuses to listen.
As I start the story, my voice filling the now utterly silent room—nothing shuts people up like some hot, messy family drama—I feel at home in my skin for the first time since I left New York.