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His mother grimaced. “Dogs? In the shop?”
“It’s for a good cause, Mom.”
She pulled in a deep breath. “All right. Fine. As long as you do a deep clean after.”
“I will. Thanks, Mom.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Okay, I need to go up to work. Gerald wants more ‘Christmas’”—he made quotation marks with his fingers—“added to my paintings, so I took a few pictures around town tonight. Somehow, I have to capture the Christmas spirit in my work.”
She grinned. “Good luck with that.”
“Tell me about it.”
She stood and patted his back. “I’m sure they’ll be great and I can’t wait to see them. But when are you going to sleep? You’re working at the coffee shop all day, painting all night, and now you’re doing this competition. You’re stretching yourself too thin. You’re going to make yourself sick.”
“No worries. I’m good. The Christmas season is the best time to sell the most art. I have to produce as many paintings as I can right now if I want to keep my spot at the gallery. Don’t worry about me; I can sleep in January.”
She shook her head. “Sleep in for a couple hours tomorrow. I’ll cover the morning shift.”
“Thanks, Mom. You get some sleep too.”
“I will, sweetie. I’m going to bed now.”
He went upstairs reinvigorated. He felt better than he had in a while as he pulled up his computer and clicked through the pictures he’d taken earlier at the park in Pineville. One of Santa and his elf caught his eye. The gazebo behind them was all decorated. The park itself looked a little run-down but was spruced up for the season with red velvet, evergreens, and pine cones.
There was one image he especially liked of an old mailbox sitting at a slight tilt with a large pine bough draped over the top, sprinkled with a light dusting of snow. He loved the contrast of the peeling paint and the bright red of the berries with a matching ribbon.
He started drawing, his graphite pencil flying lightly over the white canvas, and as he did, his creativity opened and began to flow. Maybe Gerald was right; maybe his work had become a little stale. Maybe Pineville and the spirit of Christmas was just what he needed to add a spark back into his work.
Several hours later, he fell into bed exhausted but happy to have another piece almost done. He had to admit, he liked it. A lot. And he couldn’t help wondering what Roni would think about it. Would she like it?
He went to sleep thinking about the sound of her laugh and how much he’d missed it, missed her. He wanted to see her again, but would she want to see him? He’d better watch himself. It would be so easy to fall in love with her all over again. He wasn’t really sure if those feelings had ever went away or if he’d just buried them deep down.
What if he opened himself back up to her again, only to discover that once Christmas was over and they were back to their old lives, the magic had disappeared?
Could he go back to his old life in Denver and leave her behind?
Again?
He wasn’t sure. All he knew was he wanted to give it a try.
To give them a try.
For better or worse.
CHAPTER10
Roni couldn’t stop thinking about Jimmy and everything he’d said the night before. He came back and saw her in the arms of another man? That wasn’t possible. There had been no other man. She shook her head, trying to remember back ten years ago when her life had been completely torn apart. After high school, her friends had scattered to the wind; Jimmy was in Denver, and her grandmother had just died. She had no one.
He must have been confused. Why didn’t he just come inside and confront her? When she thought about the damage caused because he decided to leave instead, she realized that seemed to be a thing with him. He was afraid to challenge obstacles head-on. Like moving back home?
Maybe it would be disastrous for his career.
But then, maybe it wouldn’t.
If he did come home, what would that mean for the two of them? Would she let him back into her heart? Should she take that chance?
She wouldn’t let herself think about that because if she did, if she let herself hope they had a chance and he went back to Denver, she’d be devastated. No, she had to protect her heart. Jimmy was no-go territory.
She gave the rectangular tables she’d set up a hard push against the wall. The bells above the door of Coffee Corner jingled as Owen and Eric Greenley arrived from their Christmas tree farm carrying bins full of evergreens for her wreath making event.
