She was chocolate and sunshine, warm and alive, lighting up the dim shop just by standing there, and it threw him completely off balance.
“We’re headed to Zoe’s and then the Santa House,” Madison said. “Thought we’d stop by and see if we could change your mind.”
“I told them you already passed,” Cassidy said, tugging off one glove. “But hope springs eternal.”
“I still don’t know what the Santa House is exactly,” Kit admitted. “But Zach promised there’d be cocktails at the end of it, so I’m down.”
“Zoe said Jackson might meet her there, too,” Zach added.
That surprised Liam. Jackson hated crowds—especially since he’d come home. Even the farmers’ market made him twitchy sometimes. If his brother was going, maybe heshouldgo too.
But the idea of standing side by side with laughing strangers, families with toddlers on their shoulders, couples holding hands under strings of lights… it made Liam’s chest go tight. He didn’t belong in that kind of festive joy. Not anymore.
“Emily bowed out, seeing as she’s still fixing her display,” Madison continued.
“And she won’t let us help,” Zach added.
“I heard the bookstore got hit, too,” Kit added, nonchalantly.
“What!?” Cassidy exclaimed with wide eyes and an indignant expression.
“Someone stole all the lights from the front of the shop,” Kit explained.
“That’s, what, the second attack now?” Cassidy asked. “And still no sign of the Gingerbread Jerk.”
Liam leaned back against the counter, folding his arms. “If there even is one.”
Cassidy raised a brow. “Seriously?”
“I’m just saying,” he said with a shrug. “It’s windy. It’s December. People forget to anchor things. Doesn’t mean there’s a saboteur lurking in the shadows with a Christmas vendetta.”
Zach snorted. “You sound just like the mayor. Anyway, come with us, and afterward I’ll buy you a drink at the Kettle.”
Liam smiled but shook his head. “Nah. Thanks, but y’all go ahead. I’ve got work to catch up on. Maybe next time.”
Liam followed them to the door and locked it. But he didn’t feel any better once they were gone. Watching people walk past the window, laughing and cheerful, only made the ache worse. The world felt too bright, too loud. He needed space. Quiet.
He grabbed his sketchbook, a pouch of pencils, and his coat and headed for his truck. He didn’t know where he was going, only that it wouldn’t be downtown.
The road up the mountain was winding, dusted in fresh snow, and the forest around him glowed faintly in the fading light. The sun had already dipped behind the ridge, leaving the sky streaked in lavender and pale gold, and below, the town twinkled faintly. It looked like a snow globe brought to life. Smoke curled from chimneys, drifting lazily into the twilight, and for a moment, the world felt hushed, like it was holding its breath, waiting.
Some people drank to escape. Liam drew.
He parked near one of the scenic overlooks and killed the engine. For a while, he just sat there, soaking in the silence. A few deer picked their way through the snowy underbrush nearby, and a cardinal darted past the windshield, a flash of red against the gray.
He’d planned to sketch the pines, or the way the snow clung to the branches… but instead, his pencil moved on its own.
Cassidy.
She had the brightest eyes he’d ever seen. But he’d seen something else there, too—a flicker of sadness just beneath all that glittering warmth, like she was trying to outrun something she didn’t talk about.
Line by line, he tried to capture it. The tilt of her head when she listened. The flush in her cheeks from the cold. The way her lips curved into a smile.
It wasn’t perfect. The lighting was all wrong.
But he kept drawing.
Because, somehow, she made the cold less sharp.
