Outside, as the sun proclaimed it a cloudless day, the sky had already forgotten the storm that had nearly caused Joy and Oliver to miss Christmas in Port Willis. But, the snow had stopped the previous morning—though it was due to start again today in London and Cornwall—and by afternoon, the plows had done their thing. Whatever the reason, Joy had felt a strange mixture of gratitude to be heading back to Sophia and sadness over the beginning of the end as it concerned her relationship with Oliver.
If cuddling and kissing a bunch and talking about anything and everything for less than a day constituted a relationship.
Joy sipped the hot apple cider Ginny had simmered on the stovetop early this morning. The toasty liquid warmed her lips and throat as she snuggled under a blanket, her eyes roaming Sophia’s beautifully decorated tree and landing on the framed painting of a couple cradling a baby thousands of years ago—a baby who would become King.
The steam from her mug filled her lungs. Between whatever she had going on with Oliver and her mom’s deteriorating health, Joy had much to worry about. But today was a day for thankfulness. A day to remember that hope would always trump the things that troubled her.
“So how about we open a few gifts before the guys get here?” Sophia stood and knelt beside the tree, sorting through the gifts until she located a large bag and a medium-sized box with a glittery gold bow.
William, Steven, and Oliver were joining them for Christmas lunch before the latter two joined their families for dinner. Joy was nearly giddy at the thought of seeing her man again.
My man. Oh, brother. Slow your roll, Joy.
“You guys, I feel like the worst friend in the world. I didn’t have a chance to go shopping yet.” Ginny ran her fingers under her eyes. “I haven’t purchased a single item for anyone . . . not even Steven.”
“Girl, don’t sweat it. We know you’ve been busy.” Sophia handed her the gift bag and set the box on the oak coffee table in front of Joy. “And I have a feeling Steven doesn’t need some store-bought gift to make him the happiest man in the world on Christmas.”
Curling her fingers around her mug, Joy leaned forward in her seat. “Did I miss something?” With all the commotion over retrieving the dress and getting stuck in London, she’d forgotten to ask Ginny how things had gone with Steven.
Ginny’s cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. “He and I had a nice chat the other night.”
“Uh, details?”
“Sophia’s already heard it all. I’d hate to bore her—”
“As if you could.” With a happy sigh, Sophia sank back onto the couch and hugged a red, fringed pillow. “I mean, I never get tired of watching You’ve Got Mail, so why would hearing about my friend’s romantic exploits be any different?”
“Oh, this sounds good.” And if the attention were on Ginny, it wouldn’t be on Joy and her romantic exploits—the details of which she had yet to divulge to either woman. To anyone, actually. She’d been too exhausted when she’d slipped in late last night. “You’ve definitely got to dish now.”
Light spilled from Ginny’s smile. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “After I left here on Sunday, I had lunch with Steven and his parents, as you know. We’ve met several times before, and they’re lovely people.”
“The loveliest. Now, skip to the really good part.”
Ginny stuck her tongue out at Sophia. “Ha ha. Fine.” She turned her attention back to Joy. “For dinner, I thought we’d go to this eclectic diner we like to visit every time I’m in town. But instead, he took me to his houseboat, where he made spaghetti.”
“Ah, a man who can cook. I like it.” Does Oliver cook? Joy pushed away the thought because a detail like that didn’t matter. She probably wouldn’t be involved with him long enough to find out.
“Well, he tried, anyway. Let’s just say it was adorable.” Ginny bit her lip, smiling at the memory. “After we ate, we moved to his couch and chatted about our plans for Christmas, a little about the wedding, and about my plans for the bakery. Basically, everything but what we really needed to talk about. Finally, I got up my courage and told him how I felt.”
“What does that mean? What did you say?” Joy usually allowed others to tell a story without interruption but couldn’t seem to contain her questions today.
Ginny’s fingers rustled against the red tissue paper sticking out from her gift bag. “Kind of what I said to you guys the other day. I told him I wanted to move back and open a bakery here, but I was afraid it was for the wrong reasons. He asked what I meant, and I said, ‘I’m afraid I want to do it because you’re here.’” She paused, a tear sliding down her cheek. “Then he turned to me and said, ‘Ginny, open the bakery wherever you want. Don’t you know that I’d move to London, Paris—even back to Boston, if that’s where you wanted to go?” She paused. “Which I don’t, by the way. Even though part of me would love to show my parents how successful I’m going to be. But I digress. He basically said if I wasn’t going to open a bakery here, he’d uproot his life and go wherever I was. The only reason he hasn’t done it yet was to give me time to decide what I wanted to do. Time to heal from Garrett’s betrayal and the divorce. Time to find God and become secure in my knowledge of who I really am.”
Now Sophia and Joy both had tears in their eyes too.
Joy’s tears originated from happiness for Ginny and Steven. But she recognized another source as well. An ache had formed in the pit of her heart, and it had everything to do with how she’d perhaps finally found such a man for herself but eventually would have to let him go. How could he possibly fit into her life?
She’d considered it at all angles. If things ever came to the point where they fell in love, fully and completely, how would they be together? Joy’s parents needed her, so there was no way she could move half a world away. And Oliver’s employees and the success of his company meant everything to him. She wouldn’t be the woman who took him away from that.
“And that right there is the sign of a good man.” Sophia nearly bounced in her seat. “Tell her the rest.”
“Yes, please.” Joy steadied her voice. “And don’t leave anything out.”
“All right, all right.” Ginny laughed, wiping away her tears. “What he said stunned me, frankly. And it made me realize that even though I initially came to Port Willis for a man—Garrett—it’s still home. The people I love the most in the world are here. And yeah, I could bake anywhere, but I want to bake here. It was just fear keeping me from admitting that before. So I have a meeting scheduled tomorrow about renting the space next to the bookstore. And Soph and I have already started talking about opening a wall between the two so customers can flow between our stores. We’ll have to talk to the city about it and get the permits and everything, but . . . yeah. It’s super exciting.”
“That’s fabulous, Ginny. I’m so happy for you.”
“Yes, super-duper exciting.” Sophia looked pointedly at Ginny. “But if you don’t tell her what happened with Steven, I’m gonna do it for you.”
Joy nudged her best friend. “Man, when did you get so bossy?”
“Been hanging around you too much, I guess.”
Joy and Sophia laughed then returned their attention to Ginny.
“After he told me that, he took my hands in his, looked me straight in the eyes, and said, ‘Ginny Rose, you’ve done amazing things over the past year. Simply amazing. And even though you said you didn’t know who you were, I did. And I love that woman. I love you.’”
Joy and Sophia sighed at the declaration.
Now Ginny was full-on happy crying. “I know, right? How did I get so lucky? So then I blubbered and blabbered on, I don’t really know about what—you know me—but eventually I said I loved him too.”
Joy’s fingers drummed against the gift on her lap. “That’s pretty much the best story ever.” Will I ever have one like it?
She’d never asked that before, not for years, anyway. When Sophia and William had gotten together last year, sh
e’d felt nothing but joy for them. Nothing. Not one iota of comparison or jealousy or anything.
Now, though?
She wished she could pause time so this week would last forever.
No. She knew her future, and she’d always been okay with it. One romantic holiday with a guy she barely knew wouldn’t change that. If she could just stay focused on how this was temporary and try to enjoy herself anyway, then maybe it would be a nice story to keep for herself if she ever gave loneliness an inch in her life.
“Yes, it is. Now.” Sophia swung her gaze toward Joy. “Don’t think you’re getting out of telling us about what happened in London.” Her eyebrows rose and her lips quirked.
At that moment, the doorbell chimed. The guys had arrived.
Joy released a sigh—saved by the bell, literally—and hopped up. “That will have to wait, I guess.”
No, she couldn’t put off Sophia forever, but for now, her heart raced in anticipation of spending time with Oliver again. Merry Christmas to me.
How was this her life? Joy felt as if she’d walked onto the set of a Christmas movie.
A gentle snow fell where she stood just outside Sophia’s house, caressing her cheeks and eyelashes. It had been fluttering down since lunch time, so a few inches covered the ground. According to Sophia, the dusting would melt rather quickly once it warmed up, which was supposed to happen tomorrow—just in time for the wedding in three days.
Oliver stood beside her, one arm looped around her shoulders, Rascal at his feet. Together, they watched the slow fluff twirl to meet the sleepy town. The street remained quiet, not a car or person about. Chimneys puffed out curls of smoke, and the lamppost she’d begun to think of as “theirs” emitted a soft glow.
Once again, it was just the two of them in a world of subtle color and peace.
“What are you thinking?” Oliver’s breath warmed her ear.
Joy pulled her gaze from the sky and connected it with his. “That this has been such a lovely day.” Feeling bold, she snagged his free hand. She’d have tugged him to sit on the bench next to the lamp, but snow covered the wooden slats. “And that this is the perfect way to end Christmas Day.”
He leaned down to give her a kiss—too quick but still potent. They’d managed to sneak a few pecks here and there, but with so many of their friends crowding into Sophia’s tiny house to celebrate the holiday, there hadn’t been much occasion to be alone until now. “And it’s not quite over yet.”
“What do you mean?”
He lowered his arm and opened his thick gray coat. From the inside pocket, he plucked something flat wrapped in tissue paper. “It isn’t much, but I thought you may fancy them.”
Joy carefully took Oliver’s gift in her purple-mittened hand. The paper crinkled as she unfolded it from what felt like cardstock of some sort. As soon as she saw the picture of two large mice, Joy couldn’t help the laugh that fell from her lips. She flipped through the same vintage Christmas cards she’d been eyeing in the antique shop the first day they’d met—ten in all—each one more ridiculous than the last.
“Thank you.” Biting her lip, she glanced at him again. “But I didn’t get you anything.”
“I’m sure you can think of something.” Humor glinted in his eye.
“Hmm.” As Joy slipped the cards inside her jacket, she turned to face him. “How about a nice pat on the back?”
“That’d be great—if I were Rascal.”
“A hug, then?”
Oliver stepped closer and put his hands around her waist. “Getting warmer.”
“Yes, a hug would make me warmer, thanks.” Despite the chill of the snow against her face, her lips twisted into a full-on grin. This was too fun.
He pulled her to him, and she snuggled against his chest. How did she fit so perfectly here in a place she hadn’t known existed more than a week ago?
After a few moments of delicious heat, she glanced up and quirked an eyebrow. “I do have one more idea . . .”
“And what’s that?”
“A kiss, of course.”
“I suppose I could accept that.”
“You have to come closer, though. A girl can only lift on her tiptoes so much.”
He complied and their noses nearly touched.
Joy’s arms encircled his neck as she grazed her lips against his cheek. “There you go. Merry Christmas.”
His chuckle shot joy right into her heart. “That’s probably the best gift I’ll receive this year or any other.”
And somehow, she believed he meant it. “Challenge accepted.”
“What challenge is that?”
Looking at him with mock sincerity, Joy blinked rapidly. “The challenge of giving you an even better gift every year, of course.”
Something shifted in his eyes, from joking to serious in two seconds flat. Then she realized what she’d said. How she’d sounded. What she’d presumed. Joy swallowed hard. She hadn’t meant to . . .
But trying to explain away that she’d made some giant implications would only be awkward, so she did what she’d been longing to do all day.
She snagged his lips with her own.
His arms tightened around her back, and her arms dragged him closer so there wasn’t much between them other than her questions. But with every moment locked in his embrace, Joy steadily released her doubts. A continual ebb and flow of deepening and lightening kisses continued as the passion mounted inside her, an aching need pulsing, begging to escape. She felt it all the way to the toes curled inside her pink boots.
Finally, she broke away, needing to catch her breath. Her head spun and her pulse galloped as Oliver crushed her to his chest. The rapid beating of his heart proved she wasn’t the only one affected by their chemistry.
“I very much look forward to seeing how you top that in future.” His whisper sent a thrill of longing and sorrow through her.
What future?
Maybe she could banish the thought if she lingered here, anchored in the beauty of the present. Joy closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of him.
Oliver’s fingers played with a short strand of her hair as he continued holding her. “I need to go but I don’t want to.” Dinner with his aunt and a few of her friends was supposed to begin at six, and it had already been five forty-five when they’d come outside.
“And I need to go inside.” Sophia’s mom would arrive in the morning, and Ginny had headed off to spend the evening with Steven’s family, so tonight it’d just be her, Sophia, and William. “But I don’t want to either.”
“I suppose I’ll be the responsible one then.” Icy cold met Joy’s cheeks upon his release. The twinkling lights strung along Sophia’s roof illuminated his teasing smile. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“I hope so. Thank you again for the cards. I love them.”
“You’re welcome. And I think it will come as no surprise that I loved your gift as well—and the enthusiasm with which you gave it.”
Surely she’d left him in no doubt of her feelings. “Merry Christmas, Oliver.”
“Merry Christmas, Joy.”
With that, she spun on her heel and hightailed it inside the house, leaning against the door after she’d shut it.
“Well, well, well. Looking a bit flushed, are we?” Sophia stood in front of her, arms crossed, a huge grin plastered on her face.
Joy peeled off her mittens and parka, which she hung on the coatrack before moving into the living room. “It was cold outside. Where’s William?”
“He said he’s taking a nap in my room, but I think he just wanted to give us a chance to catch up. And don’t change the subject.” Sophia followed her into the room and plopped onto the couch. On her television, she’d queued up a Christmas station that featured a roaring fire and played holiday tunes at a low volume.
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan. Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone . . .
“Who, me?” Joy couldn’t bring herself to sit just yet, so she wandered to t
he front window next to the Christmas tree. Peeking through the curtains, she could just make out Oliver and Rascal’s retreating forms.
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow. In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
“You really like him, huh?” Sophia’s voice had dropped all teasing.
Joy turned to face her best friend again. “Yeah.”
“I haven’t seen you this gone over a guy since . . . well, never, actually. There was Chase, but even he only lasted three dates.”
“I know, Soph, but there’s no future between me and Oliver thanks to the small matter of my parents and his job. It’s just not realistic.” But oh, how right it had felt being in his arms. That had been real enough.
In the bleak midwinter, a stable-place sufficed. The Lord God Almighty—Jesus Christ.
“That’s what I thought when I first started to fall for William. I didn’t think it would work out. But look at us now.” Sophia patted the spot next to her on the couch.
Dragging her feet, Joy walked over and slumped against the cushions. She snatched a pillow and hugged it to her chest, focusing her gaze on the undulating flames flickering on the TV. “It’s different for you. You didn’t have anything tying you down in the States.” Joy cringed. “I don’t mean it like that. I love my parents.”
“Of course you do.” Sophia snuggled close to Joy, each woman supporting the other—a symbol for their friendship if ever there were one. “Did you consider what I said last week about applying for some jobs?”
“Yes. I subscribed to a site with job postings.” She thought about the notifications she’d received already for therapist jobs in her area. None of them had been quite what she’d be looking for, but Joy had to admit a flicker of longing at the thought of returning to counseling women who needed help.
“That’s a great step.”
“Thanks for encouraging me to do it. All of this with Mom and Dad, the move to Florida, selling my practice . . . it’s just been an overwhelming time.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been there with you. And to throw a wrench in things with my wedding.”
“Stop it.” Joy nudged her with an elbow. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
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