“Wouldn’t miss it,” Cassidy said, still smiling from Edith’s comments.
“Excellent. We’re meeting at Zoe’s at five,” Madison said.
“Do you know who all’s coming?” Cassidy couldn’t stop herself from looking across the street, wondering if Liam might have changed his mind.
Nothing got by Madison. “Why? Is there a certain someone you hope to run into?” she asked, all too innocently.
“What? No!” Cassidy’s voice cracked halfway through the denial.
Madison arched a brow. “Are you sure? Liam might’ve mentioned something to Zach about meeting you last night…”
Cassidy groaned. “Oh my God. I hate everyone.”
“You get used to it,” Edith said with a chuckle.
“I just got here,” Cassidy mumbled. “The last thing I need is a distraction wrapped up in strong forearms and a growly voice and a beard that probably feels amazing?—”
Madison’s eyes widened in delight. “Ohhh. You’ve thought about the beard.”
“You’re leaving!” Cassidy laughed, waving them toward the door. “This conversation is over. Anyway, Liam already said he isn’t coming.”
“Alright, alright. We’ll see you just before five,” Madison said.
Cassidy waved as the ladies disappeared down the sidewalk. She needed to get back to work while there weren’t any customers, prepping chocolates for tomorrow. Instead she lingered, her gaze drifting back to Liam’s shop.
Absolutely not, she told herself.
She didn’t have time for a slow-smiling, sharp-witted farm boy with broad shoulders and secrets in his eyes. Especially one who made her brain feel like it was full of cocoa.
Her mind flicked, uninvited, to the way he’d tasted that truffle earlier, lips parting around the chocolate like it was something sacred. How he’d gone quiet afterward, tongue sweeping across the corner of his mouth as if savoring every last bit.
Cassidy swallowed hard.
She was definitely not thinking about what else that tongue might be good at.
Nope. Not even a little.
EIGHT
LIAM
Monday, December 1st
Later that day, after closing the Hot Honey Farm Shop, Liam stood behind the front register. He was keeping weight off his bad leg while he sketched the storefront in his notebook, wondering what else he could add to the display. Maybe a few pine trees, more garlands draped along the façade, some handmade ornaments—rustic and festive. He would need to do a lot more than that to win the light-up competition, but it was a start.
He envisioned turning the front of his shop into a small-town Christmas market, something cozy and nostalgic that brought the farm right into downtown Maple Falls. Multicolored lights would frame his shop, small twinkly ones around the windows and the icicle type too. They’d drip down from the roof line in a warm cascade. Strings of soft white bulbs would wind around wooden crates stacked with jars of honey and bundles of wool, and he’d place glowing lanterns on the sidewalk out front, welcoming people home.
The idea was still rough, but the more he drew, the more it took shape in his mind.
The Santa House opening sure was popular. He could see more and more locals were flooding into the area, lining up along Oak Way. Families were bundled up, kids in puffy coats and knit hats chasing each other while parents sipped steaming cups of mulled wine from the local tavern—the Kettle—across the road.
He wondered if he should open up shop again when Cassidy, Zach, Madison, and Kit, the new chef at the Cinnamon Spice Inn, walked by the front of his store. Madison leaned in, cupping her eye to look through, while Zach knocked on the window.
“It’s open,” Liam called.
Zach pushed down the gold handle and opened the door, and Cassidy followed after him.
She was bundled in a deep red coat that hugged her curves, cheeks flushed from the cold, blonde hair braided, a few snowflakes still clinging to the ends. And, somehow, that felt elf hat she wore still looked perfect. The way her eyes sparkled under the shop lights made something tighten low in Liam’s gut.
