How could he even bring himself to feel like this, especially at this time of year?
They’d met two days ago. That was it. And yet…
His phone buzzed in his coat pocket.
He ignored it, hoisted the tree into the truck bed.
Buzz.
Then again.
With a grunt, he tugged his gloves off and pulled out his phone. The screen lit up with notifications from his friends’ group chat.
Madison: Guys. Emily’s shop was targeted again. This time they messed up her lights and her wreath.
Zoe: I don’t like this. It’s starting to feel personal.
Kit: I saw that! Emily posted it on Insta. It got 200 likes in the first hour and dozens of comments. #GingerbreadJerk
Cassidy: Unless the wind has a grudge and impeccable aim, it’s definitely sabotage. This has to end!
Liam’s thumb hovered over the reply bubble, then didn’t type anything. Instead, he stared at Cassidy’s message:Unless the wind has a grudge…
She’d added a wink emoji. Light, teasing. But Liam could imagine her face when she wrote it—spark in her eyes, hair falling into her face, biting her lip.
He scrolled back up and stared at the hashtag:#GingerbreadJerk
Was it funny? Yeah. A little. But the truth was, if there was someone out there trying to mess with businesses—wreck displays, ruin people’s shot at the competition—it wouldn’t take much to cause real harm.
He hated to think of Cassidy’s shop being targeted next. He could picture her up bright and early, working on her chocolates alone in her kitchen while someone watched outside, waiting for the opportunity to strike.
Not that there was any real danger. Probably.
Still, something tightened in his chest at the thought of it. A sharp, defensive pull.
“You good?” Jackson asked from behind him. He was holding a container of beef stew for Liam to take.
Liam shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Yeah,” he muttered, accepting the leftovers. “Thanks for the help. I better get going.”
He climbed into the truck, but his thoughts stayed with Cassidy. He told himself it was just concern for a fellow competitor. But the need to make sure she was safe had already burrowed under his skin.
ELEVEN
CASSIDY
Tuesday, December 2nd
“Cassidy! Business going well?” Mayor Bloomfield called out as she arrived in the town square, just a stone’s throw from her shop.
The mayor wore a red velvet sport coat over a white satin vest embroidered with tiny candy canes. She could appreciate the man’s dedication to the season. Honestly, she should really find out where he shopped.
“First two days have been great,” she said brightly. “I’m excited to see what the rest of the week brings.”
“Good, good.” He gave a jolly nod.
Late afternoon would soon turn to evening in Maple Falls, and the Christmas tree lighting ceremony was supposed to take place at the center of the town square, yet there was no tree in sight.
Cassidy looked around. The culinary shop had gone all out with a massive, eight-foot-tall nutcracker next to its door. She could have sworn it had given her a little salute when she’d passed earlier.
