She laughed softly, the sound like a gentle breeze through the trees.We exited the kitchen together, our arms laden with baskets of cookies.
As we approached Christian's table, my heart raced.He was seated with his back straight, his chiseled features reminiscent of an actor — strong jawline, piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold secrets of their own, and a hint of stubble that only added to his rugged charm.His eyes met mine and softened slightly as he saw us approaching.
"Ready?"I asked him.
"Oh dear," my grandmother said suddenly."I think I forgot my glasses."
“Grandma, they're hanging from your neck,” I pointed out, noticing the thin chain glinting in the light.
She sighed, reaching up to touch them.“I’m tired, dear,” she said softly.“Go on without me, would you?”
I frowned, confusion knitting my brows.We always sold her cookies at the Christmas market.“But Grandma?—”
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, waving off my concern.“I just need some rest.”
I wanted to argue but held back, aware of Christian's presence and not wanting to cause a scene.“I’ll walk you to your room then,” I offered.
“Oh, I’ll be fine,” she said more firmly this time.“You treat me like a child, Claire!Now, go!Before we lose out on potential customers.”
Her sudden insistence puzzled me.I hesitated, not wanting to leave her alone but knowing she was safe at the inn with Harlow at the front desk.
“Okay,” I finally said, albeit reluctantly.
“Good,” she replied with a satisfied nod.“Skedaddle.”She turned her attention to Christian, who stood nearby looking uncertain.“Are you going to let her carry those cookies by herself, young man?Where is the chivalry nowadays?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Christian responded quickly, stepping forward to take the bags from my hands.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
“What are you still doing here?”Grandma asked sharply.“Go!”
With a last glance at her, I nodded and led Christian out of the inn.The brisk winter air hit us as we stepped outside, and I took a deep breath to clear my mind.
Christian walked beside me in silence for a moment before speaking up.“Is she going to be all right?”
I glanced at him and managed a small smile.“Yeah, she’s just stubborn.Always has been.”
He chuckled softly.“Sounds familiar.”
Christian and I walked side by side, the snow crunching beneath our boots.The air was crisp, and our breath made small clouds in the frigid evening.Christmas lights twinkled in every window, casting a warm glow on the cobblestone streets.
“Welcome to Holly Ridge,” I said, gesturing to the quaint buildings that lined the main street.“It’s not much, but it’s home.”
Christian glanced around, his eyes taking in the festive decorations and bustling shops.“It’s charming,” he said, sounding almost surprised.
I smiled, pleased by his reaction.“That’s the general store,” I pointed out as we passed a small shop with a wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze.“Mrs.Potter runs it.She makes the best fudge you’ll ever taste.”
“Noted,” he replied with a hint of a smile.
We continued walking, and I pointed to a small building with colorful lights strung around the roof.“That’s The Cozy Corner Café.If you’re ever in need of a good cup of coffee or some company, that’s the place to go.But for pastries, you need to go to the Sugar & Spice Bakery.Emma's croissants are better than in actual France."
Christian nodded, his eyes following where I pointed.“Looks inviting.”
“It is,” I agreed.“Everyone in town loves to gather there, especially during winter when we’re all looking for an excuse to stay warm.”
As we neared the town square, I gestured toward the large tree at its center.“And this is where we have our tree-lighting ceremony every year.”
Christian looked at the towering evergreen adorned with ornaments and lights.“Yeah.It was… quite the event."
