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They know a gem when they see one. And Reindeer Falls is a gem. You might think that people only come here during the holidays, but you’d be wrong. Reindeer Falls has ample spring, summer, and fall offerings too. We even have an indoor water park. It’s themed like a melted North Pole, obviously. And the tourists are more than smitten with the place. The population of Reindeer Falls grows every year because of transplants like me who decided to settle down here.
Because Reindeer Falls has forever potential.
As the town realtor, I’ve got the numbers to prove it.
Obviously being a holiday enforcement officer isn’t my only job. For one thing, it’s seasonal. And I don’t even mind that Christmas isn’t a year-long event. Keeping Christmas condensed to just the Friday after Thanksgiving through New Year’s Day makes it special.
Yes, yes, I know that’s an entire month. Don’t try to talk me out of it.
But as the town realtor—specifically, realtor at Mistletoe Lane Realty—I get to sell people on Reindeer Falls all year long. I make dreams come true for people exactly like me.
Okay, not exactly. Most people move here for a reason. Like family, or career. Not because they have an obsessive love of Christmas and nowhere else to go. After college, I should’ve had a game plan. I should’ve had goals, or something. I should’ve had purpose, especially after four years. But I’d barely gotten out of there with a major—English, thank you very much—let alone a dream. All I had was the crushing truth that, if I didn’t figure something out soon, I’d be settling into my mom’s guest bedroom in Florida and picking up a go-nowhere job in a town that was completely foreign to me.
Mom and Dad split officially while I was in college, but they’d been on the rocks for years. Actually, that’s not true. Saying “on the rocks” makes it sound like their relationship was, at one point, on the beach or something. But for as long as I can remember, it was nonstop bickering and arguing.
Not the cute bickering that you read in romance novels, either. Not couples adorably trolling each other on social media. Not like that. It was the kind of bickering that’s based on resentment and distrust. The kind that seems to ratchet up a few notches with every holiday.
Including my favorite holiday.
Christmas.
Going to Reindeer Falls was something I did as a way to escape staying in a house that I had never grown up in. My childhood house was long gone, sold to some other family who would hopefully have happier memories. Dad stayed in Phoenix while Mom relocated to Florida, basically about as opposite as you can get, barring the South and North Poles.
Mom would’ve been thrilled to have me, but there was something unreasonably depressing about moving into her guest bedroom. It wasn’t like I was going into my old room, which would’ve felt like a pit stop. No, Florida would’ve been a move. One I was unwilling to make.
I’d gone home with Lexi the Christmas before graduation, when I’d been avoiding picking which parent I was supposed to spend the holidays with. By then Mom had relocated to Florida, making it impossible for me to see both of them during the same holiday.
Within a day of my winter break I’d realized something important about Reindeer Falls.
These people didn’t fuck around when it came to Christmas. Christmas was alive here. Like a real tangible thing. It wasn’t just in the jingle bells or the bakery or the sleighs that slid down Main Street tethered to horses wearing antlers. It was everywhere. It was real. There was a magic in the air here.
What would I have given to have grown up in such a magical place? Sure, it wasn’t like it could’ve put a stop to my parents’ fighting. Not even Santa Claus had that power. I know because it’s what I asked him for every year.
But at least Christmas would have been different. Of that, I was sure.
I knew I’d be back before I even left.
My dream was a house on Candy Cane Lane, but those houses are the Park Avenue of Reindeer Falls. No one gets into those houses. Those homes are family homes, passed down from generation to generation. When one does become available, it’s rare, and it’s a heck of a lot more expensive than a house constructed of gingerbread, I can assure you.
Except here is Ryan Sheppard. Already talking about selling one of the most beautiful houses in Reindeer Falls. Yes, sure, it needs a couple of cosmetic touch-ups, but it’s on Candy Cane Lane. It doesn’t get any more perfect.
Ugh.
I need to get this man off my mind.
So what if he wants to sell? So what if he doesn’t appreciate this town, or a Candy Cane Lane address?
