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“Yes. Françoise is friends with a ceramic artist. She helped me to have this made. She thinks we belong together too.”
“Wow. I got that one wrong.”
He laughs. “We both got a lot wrong. It doesn’t mean we can’t make things right now.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, the brightness of the old Sawyer back. “I want us, Dawson Wright. I’m in love with you, and I always have been.”
My heart explodes at his words, and I tremble as I pull him into a hug. “I love you too, Sawyer Quinn.” It’s amazing to finally say the words out loud—the ones that have been true so long, I can’t remember when they weren’t.
I’m unable to find my voice with the overwhelming emotions that have taken over my being. Sawyer leans in until the closeness of our bodies creates a force of its own. He brings his lips a breath away from mine, making them tingle.
Sawyer is going to kiss me, and I’m having a hard time catching my breath. Even though I thought I never wanted this, I realize now that it’s all I ever wanted. And it’s finally happening.
His lips press against mine, gently yet firmly, as if he’s afraid that if he lets go, I’ll vanish like snowflakes touching the pavement. He moves his mouth, feather light as he kisses me in the way he seems to live his life now: sweet, caring, considerate. Time stops, and I let myself feel all the feelings of kissing Sawyer. His hands cradle my face as sparks fly all around us. We finally break apart breathless, gazing into each other’s eyes filled with pure joy at the moment we’ve finally arrived at together.
He holds me so close I can hear his heart beating in rhythm with mine. We stay like this for what feels like forever—all the years of unspoken love between us floods out in a rush.
Finally, Sawyer pulls away and smiles at me. “Come on, let’s hang our ornament. This is one I want to make sure comes true.”
With trembling hands, I take the decoration from him and carefully place it upon the tree. “It already has.”
The End
If you loved this, make sure to download Wishing Season, Terra's free holiday story here!
About the Author
As a lover of books with mystery, witty banter, family-friend dynamics, and all the feels, Terra Weiss does her best to provide each in her stories. She works to steer away from cookie-cutter formulas and focus on how real-life people find real-life love.
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Once Upon a Christmas Wish
SUSAN SANDS
ChapterOne
“Three eggs over medium,wheat toast, crispy bacon, and cheese grits.” Mr. Davis, my former science teacher from Cherry Creek Academy, hadn’t changed his Saturday breakfast order since I was in high school. I knew it by heart, but he insisted on always listing the items in order.
“Yes, sir. Coming right up.” I stuck my pencil behind my ear and grinned at him.
“Thanks, Kayla. How’s your daddy? Haven’t seen him in a few weeks.” The morning regulars always asked about Daddy.
“He’s great. Loving retirement, of course. He’s busy helping get things cleaned up for the school’s renovation. And he still helps me out here at the diner most afternoons.”
“Please give him my best.” Mr. Davis stroked his graying goatee. It was a habit as old as his beard, which had always charmed me.
“Will do, Mr. Davis.” On my way to key in his order, I quickly refilled a few coffees, brought somebody a clean spoon, and supplied the check to another table. The sounds of utensils clanking against plates, ice rattling in glasses, and the smells of maple syrup and french fries filled the air. Since childhood, it had been the symphony of my life.
The Cordial Diner was a fixture in Cherry Creek, Tennessee. My family had owned it since before I could remember, and now I was the owner since Daddy had retired two years ago. Thankfully, he still worked afternoons to help me out. Or maybe, to make sure I was doing things right. Either way, I was glad to have his guidance.
Saturday mornings and Sundays after church were our busiest days, and today was no exception. Tourists from a four-state area filled the navy Naugahyde booths, and our regulars arrived daily without fail. I took another order for the diner’s famous Cherry Cordial dessert— our customers ordered the dessert any time of day. Cherry Creek boasted a grove of cherry trees in the center of town, and the cherries were the best around.
Our cherry cordial dessert was a mix of rich chocolate cake, whipped cream, and homemade cherry compote, topped with two perfect chocolate-covered cherry cordials made by Miss Dottie at her Chocolate Shop next door.
As I entered Mr. Davis’ order into our computer system, a deep and familiar voice froze me in place. “Kayla? Is that you?” My breath hitched in recognition.It couldn’t be him.The voice was close—just behind me across the counter. I worked to calm my racing heartbeat and then turned to stare into the bright blue eyes and slightly older face of Seth Jacobs.
“Seth?” I smiled, despite my shock. “It’s so good to see you.” I instinctively leaned across the counter to hug him—kind of. It was more like a quick touching of hands on shoulders. But he smelled the same—like the outdoors without the sweat. Pine and flannel, exactly like I remembered.
