Page 131 of Mistletoe All the Way

And that feels like the story of our short-lived Christmas romance.

44 ROCKY THE SQUIRREL’S REVENGE

Noah

The killer is on the loose, I’m three hundred endless miles away from home, and I forgot to buy chocolate oranges when I left.

As the miles stretch behind me and the unforgiving, curving road unfurls ahead, I glance at Rusty in the rearview mirror. “We’ll be there soon,” I tell my best friend.

He looks the other way.

Great. It’s like he’s had enough of me too.

“I swear you’ll be back in your bed before eleven,” I tell him. There’s nothing to do but keep driving. Hands on the wheel. Foot on the pedal. Mind on the road.

By the time I’m two hundred miles out, the hard-boiled detective on the audio drama is tracking down a lead in a dark warehouse, footsteps echoing through the empty space. It’s scary as fuck, and normally I’d love it.

But it’s not quite as good without Eloise in my life.

I wonder if that’ll be my new norm. If chocolate-covered oranges won’t taste as delicious. If music won’t hit the same. If riding a horse will be less fulfilling.

I chew on those thoughts as we eat up another ten miles when my phone rings.

A spark of hope shoots through me. Maybe it’s her. Maybe she’s calling to tell me she’s madly in love with me too.

The name Gramps flashes across the screen.

I hate that my shoulders sink, but I try to muster some enthusiasm as I swipe to answer.

“How’s it going? Sorry I couldn’t stick around,” I say, even though I already told him earlier how sad I was to leave. I’m keenly aware I hightailed it out of town before his pitch party. But in a way I made my pitch at the tree farm, and before then back at his home. He said he understood.

“No worries. You didn’t win Mr. Holiday, but you win some, lose some. Henry Rojas took it. Love the Christmas train he runs, and he’s always been a good guy.”

I smile, thinking about how he asked for a hand reaching for a branch on the town tree to hang an ornament. Glad I was able to help him. I think, too, about how we traded tips for songs. “He deserves it.”

“He does. But that’s not why I’m calling.”

I brace myself in the dark as the mountains call me home. “What’s going on?” I ask, even though it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he’s calling about the farm.

“I really appreciate you going out on a limb earlier. I really appreciate what you said. I’m disappointed in Stephen—especially since I talked to his investors this afternoon. After you told me what was going on.”

I tap the brake and pull into a rest stop. I need to focus on this. “You were thinking about selling the farm to them?”

That’s so unlike him. I never would’ve expected that. But maybe this is what happens when you leave. You think you know someone, and over time you don’t know them as well as you thought.

“I wanted to hear what they were interested in. Can you believe this? They wanted to expand the country club onto Silver Bells and build a hotel next to it. Turns out the board of directors at the country club is really keen on the idea. They’d reached out to Stephen to see if he could help them along.”

My jaw falls open. I blow out a breath, unable to speak for a moment. I’m not entirely shocked though. It adds up that Eloise’s parents, in their own way, were trying to make it happen. And to think they tried to bring her into it.

I’m so glad she turned their job offer down. I’m so damn proud of her. Even if I can’t have her, knowing she did the right thing makes me fall a little harder for her. “That’s kind of a shock.”

“It sure is. Turns out Stephen’s got some big-city partner too who liked the idea.” He sighs, and it’s full of disappointment. “Didn’t know about that either.”

“Sorry you had to learn that, Gramps.”

“Yeah,” he says, then shifts gears. “But it was so damn satisfying to tell the hotel guys there’s no goddamn way I’d ever do that. This farm stays in the family. It’s not only what I want and what your grandmother wants—it’s what your mother would’ve wanted,” he says, then pauses. “I know you told me you’d run it from afar, and I want you to know you’re the man for this place.”

My heart swells, flooded with emotions I wasn’t expecting. A connection to the past, maybe. To the kid who loved the holidays. Who went to the tree farm. Who sang Christmas songs. Whose heart broke when he lost someone he loved.