“Are you sure I should be coming with you?” Whit asked as we loaded the car.
“You’re my family,” I assured her. “Family spends time together at Christmas.”
Whit’s parents were gone. They’d been over 60 when they adopted her, and they passed away within the same year of each other, when Whit was only 21. She had a younger brother, Adam, but they had drifted apart over the years after their parents’ deaths, and he’d moved to Arizona on a quest of self-discovery.Despite her protests that she’d be intruding, I wouldn’t leave her and Ivy alone for the holidays.
We got a hotel room at the Birch Hollow Inn, where my mom, who had moved to upstate New York, would also be staying. Cade, of course, was staying with his parents. After we unloaded our bags from the car, I texted Cade that we’d gotten in and gave him the room number, and we confirmed our plans for brunch the next day with both our families.
At 9 pm, there was a soft knock at our hotel room door. Maple’s ears perked at the sound, but she stayed curled on the edge of my double bed. Ivy was dozing while Whit flipped channels, so I went to the door to answer it.
Ice-blue eyes met mine.
“Cade,” I said in surprise. I stepped out of the hotel room into the carpeted hallway and pulled the door closed behind me.
“Hey, baby.” He pulled me into his arms. “Sorry, I know I was supposed to wait til tomorrow, but I couldn’t.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said, burrowing into his neck.
“I really missed you.” He sounded forlorn.
“I missed you, too.”
He captured my lips in a warm kiss. “God—you know I love our families, but I kind of wish they could disappear and we could have some time to ourselves for a few days. Does that make me Scrooge?”
I laughed into his chest, shaking my head. “I don’t think so. I wish the same. When do you head back, again?”
“Day after Christmas. You?”
“The 27th.”
He hung his head. “God, this is hard.”
I had no words to disagree, so I fisted his shirt and pulled him into me for another kiss, memorizing his scent and the feel of his lips against mine. It wasn’t enough, but it had to be, at least for tonight.
It wastwo days before Christmas. We all met up at the organic, farm-to-table cafe in Birch Hollow where Owen was the head chef. The cafe was settled along Main Street amid a row of shops and restaurants, nestled between Lake Realty and what looked like an upscale yet quirky gift shop, with a sign that read Wine & Whimsy in a curlicue font. The cafe section of the building was painted a dark sage green, and the glass front of the building welcomed us with the name Harvest House in white script. A chalkboard sign out front listed the specials.
We sat at a long wooden table—the Adlers, my mom, Whit, Cade, and me, with a highchair pulled up to the table for nine-month-old Ivy.
The old-fashioned wood trim inside the cafe had been painted the same green as the building’s exterior, and the walls were a softer shade several tones lighter. The place felt warm and cozy and had a variety of menu items from artichoke omelets and quinoa bowls, to the classic brunch fare of pancakes and bacon. This place hadn’t been around back when Cade and I were in school, but now it was a regular stop on my Vermont visits to see Owen. The food was always delicious.
My mom and the Adlers caught up on their lives as we enjoyed our meal. They seemed so happy that Cade and I were together. Beside me, Cade rested his hand on my thigh and asked Whit about her graphic design business, which was growing, albeit slowly. My heart thumped joyfully at the chorus of overlapping voices and happy conversation.
Cade nudged my knee when he saw my order of waffles with whipped cream.
“Okay, Leslie Knope,” he joked.
“Does that make you Ron Swanson?” I countered back, chuckling at the three different types of breakfast meats surrounding his omelet.
Owen came over at the end of the meal, and we all gave enthusiastic compliments to the chef over the deliciousness of the food.
After brunch, my mom headed back to the hotel for a nap while Cade and I wandered down Main Street, giving Whit the official tour. I wanted to show Whit all the Birch Hollow staples, as well as the many new shops that had cropped up since I’d moved away.
Cade instinctively looped my arm through his as we wandered, and I caught his eye, sending him a huge grin. He always seemed to know how to help support or prevent my aches and pains for me, but in a subtle way—to the outside eye, he was simply being chivalrous, a gentleman.
And a girl could get used to being on this handsome guy’s arm.
We walked past The Ginger Snap, which smelled deliciously of sweet baked goods and had the cutest Christmas window display. A few steps further and we reached the eccentric and well-stocked thrift store, Retro with Flo, and Whit lingered at the display of mannequins in the window. It was definitely the kind of shop Whit would visit. Flo, a white-haired woman in her 60s, saw us and waved cheerfully.
We said hello to Cade’s cousin Andrew as we walked past the faded blue façade of Adler’s Hardware, then crossed the street to walk by the pastel pink soft-serve ice cream shop, Mimi’s Creemees.
