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“Okay.” She paused for a few seconds. “Are you nervous?”
“A little. But I’m more curious.”
“Okay. See you tonight.”
He was playing it cool, but Dawson was extremely nervous.
He looked at the photo on his email from the shelter. “Well, Walter,” he said, looking at the black scruffy dog. “How do you think this will go? Is it time to tell her how I actually feel?”
He laughed at himself and walked over to his Christmas tree, touching his wonky star and pink mouse. “Wish me luck,” he whispered, before turning to get ready.
*
Piper Davis wasseeing things. There was no other explanation that made sense.
Either that, or there really was a horse drawn carriage sitting outside her house.
She pulled on her leather gloves as she walked outside. Dawson had jumped down from the carriage with the biggest grin across his face. “Can you believe it?” he said in a low voice as he took her hand to help her up.
“This wasn’t you?”
“I wish it had been. What a move.” He smiled.
They settled in the open-top carriage and spread the blanket over their knees. “I have to tell you something later,” he said quickly.
Piper gave him a look of surprise. “Oh, okay.”
His face fell a little and she wondered if she was supposed to be more enthusiastic. “Where are we going?” she asked.
He nodded at the carriage driver. “He wouldn’t say. Just said it would take around thirty minutes.”
They settled back in the carriage as the horses led them through the streets. The snow had finally stopped falling, but still lay on the ground. Even though it was freezing all around them, the blanket was warm and Dawson was sitting close to her. The heat from his body spread through her like a warm pulse. There was magic in the air tonight. She could feel it.
The carriage pulled up at a park she was unfamiliar with. The driver opened the door and gestured them down a path. A white gazebo lay at the end of the path.
“Where are we?” she asked.
Dawson reached out his hand and she took it, walking carefully down the path and up the steps to the gazebo. “I think we’re close to where Margaret Smith’s house is. I’ve just never been at this park before—I didn’t even know it was here.”
“Me either,” she said.
Heaters had been placed inside the gazebo, and a formal bar and two stools were waiting for them. Sitting on top of the bar were two red cocktails.
“What on earth?” said Piper as she climbed up on her stool.
Dawson joined her and his phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket, glanced at it, then ignored the message, sitting down next to his cocktail glass.
There was one card on the bar, and two envelopes.
The card was simple.
A celebratory cocktail for you both to enjoy—Smith’s Christmas Special.
“There’s no one around,” said Piper in wonder. “How on earth did they do all this?”
Dawson lifted his glass. “Haven’t you realized yet, Margaret Smith seems to move in mysterious ways.”
Piper lifted her glass, too. “Cheers.” She smiled.
