One Sweet Christmas (Sweeter in the City Book 4)

by Olivia Miles

  Memories of a happier time flooded the air as sweetly as the smell. He quickly took a sip before nostalgia got the better of him. It was easy to dwell on the good times, forget about the bad. But then, it had always been that way with Hailey.

  The warm liquid coated his throat, and despite himself, he felt his mouth curve into a smile. “Sweet Hailey,” he said, giving her a long look.

  She blinked rapidly at the pet name he used to call her, because she always smelled like sugar and vanilla and chocolate. If he closed his eyes he was still back in that college apartment, curled up on the cotton sheets, her arm around his waist, his head in her hair…

  “Well, it’s just hot chocolate,” she said a little gruffly.

  Now here was where he disagreed. “This is no ordinary hot chocolate.” He took another sip, savoring it. “I haven’t tasted anything like this since—”

  He stopped himself. Their eyes met and her cheeks flushed with heat, despite the chill in the air.

  He hadn’t thought of that day in years. Hadn’t allowed himself to. He’d left her that day, standing in the park, the snow coming down all around them, dusting their shoulders with the white powder, the ring heavy in his pocket. More than once, he’d told himself to stop being stubborn, to turn around, go back, put her first and stick to their plans. But then what? His family depended on him. The farm…His father couldn’t run it on his own, not that he’d be playing that way, using the guilt-card with her.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m happy for you, Hailey.” His throat felt tight as her gaze softened to one of surprise. He motioned to the café across the street. “You did it. Everything you set out to do.”

  She dropped her head to look at the ground, tracing a pattern in the snow with the tip of her boot. He let his gaze trail down those long legs, remembering how they felt intertwined with his. Smooth and warm. And stable. A constant force in his life that he’d come to depend on. Too much.

  He cleared his throat, snapped his eyes back up, grinning a little at the oversized pom-pom on her hat. She’d always liked funny hats like that. It kept things interesting, she would say.

  “And you?” Her eyes searched his. “Are you happy?”

  The question hit him as hard as a punch in the gut. It was a question he hadn’t dared to ask himself, one he couldn’t entertain. If he did…He gritted his teeth. It wasn’t about happiness. And he’d been content enough. He’d found a way, over time, to adjust to his new life, to forget about the one he’d lost—or the one he might have had.

  “Happy enough,” he managed.

  “Dating?” The question was posed casually enough, but by the way her eyes struggled to meet his, he could tell she was just as reluctant to discuss this topic as he was.

  “Not especially,” he replied. His gaze roamed her face. He didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know. “You?”

  To his relief, she shook her head. “I’m too busy for that.”

  He rolled back on his heels, the hurt of the past stinging sharp. “Of course.”

  Her eyes flashed on his. “It’s not like that, Pete. I kept up my end of the bargain.”

  “I know,” he said, sobered. “I know.”

  She frowned deeply, and looked around the lot. “So you’re really happy then?”

  “I’d be happier if I had some of this hot chocolate every day.” He tipped his head as a thought occurred to him, and Hailey’s eyes rounded in fear.

  “What? What is it?”

  He laughed at her reaction, at the irony of their situation. They could still read each other’s expressions. It had been a long time since he’d experienced this kind of familiarity.

  “I was just thinking, with your café right there…Maybe you could sell some of this hot chocolate at the lot?” He looked around at the rows of trees as the possibility came clear. It might be just the thing they needed to drive a little traffic to the holiday shop. Not that one lot’s success was going to turn around the farm, he reminded himself. But it was better than nothing.

  “Oh.” She seemed to take a step back, hardly as enthusiastic about the idea as he was.

  He stopped himself. Of course. What was he thinking? Proposing more time together when what he should be doing was keeping his distance? But did he ever want the path he should take?

  “You’re probably busy at the café,” he said, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Must be a busy time and all.”

  She nodded thoughtfully, but there was doubt in her gaze. “It can be busy…”

  “Forget I said anything. It was just one of those random thoughts.” He tipped his head back to the trailer, knowing the bank’s email couldn’t wait forever. “I should probably let you get back to it. I have some work to do myself.”

  “Yeah…I should go. Customers and all that.” Her smile was sheepish as she started to turn.

  “Hailey.” His voice seemed to cut through the winter air, and when she turned and looked at him one more time, it was like the breath was taken from him for a beat. He swallowed. “Thanks for the hot chocolate.”

  She dipped her chin. “Anytime.”

  He watched her go, until she disappeared through the row of trees and soon after into her café. Despite the heaviness in his heart, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride for all that she’d accomplished.

  At least one of them was living their dream. Maybe all that heartache had been worth it then. Or would be. In the end.

  Chapter Four

  Hailey woke up to the sound of a snow plow pushing past her bedroom window. She opened one eye and then the other and realized she only had a matter of minutes before her alarm clock was set to go off anyway. Silencing the device before it could start, she pushed back the covers, grabbed her robe, and padded into her small kitchen, where a cup of coffee was already brewing, thanks to the machine’s automatic timer.

  She added cream and sugar and sipped it slowly, standing in the kitchen that leant a view into the small living area space and the large bay window that stood bare, just as it had that first Christmas without Pete, when every carol and tree ornament seemed to be a reminder of what she had lost, until her cousin Claire had cajoled her into getting into the spirit by making light of it. And what better than an ugly Christmas sweater?

  It was Saturday, technically the day of her party, but as only two people had responded that they could make it, she’d made the decision last night to cancel it, mustering up some measure of enthusiasm with the half-hearted promise of a post New Year’s party.

  She refilled her mug, even though she knew she would have another cup of coffee once she got to the Beanery. She was stalling, she realized, dreading another day with only a trickle of customers. Or maybe dreading the thought of the man across the street…

  When there was no time left to spend poking around her small apartment, she showered and dressed, and began the long, cold walk to the shop. She used to love these walks, feeling it was a true perk to her day to be able to take in the city sights, the urban charm like corner groceries and wrought iron balconies decked with flower boxes three seasons of the year. But this morning tears prickled her eyes as she followed her regular route, wondering just how much longer she’d be taking it.

  She’d tried everything these past few months to revive the business. In the fall, she’d made apple and pumpkin flavored treats and drinks, and hung big signs to advertise them. She’d lowered prices. So far, nothing had worked.

  She thought of Pete’s offer as she stood at an intersection, waiting for a walk sign to appear. She was barely selling anything at the café most days. Making some sales at the tree lot might be a way to jumpstart her cash flow and drive new customers to the café.

  And drive myself crazy in the process, she thought, muttering under her breath, until a woman crossing the street toward her gave her a sharp look.

  Haley laughed under her breath. See, this was what Pete could never understand about her love for city life. In her quaint suburban hometown, everyone knew h
er, in their college town, the same. And in Timber Valley, Wisconsin, well, there would be no walking anywhere without bumping into someone you knew. But here in Chicago, she could be free. She could do as she pleased, go where she wanted, and she was forever inspired.

  She frowned as she turned onto Armitage Avenue and walked under the El tracks toward her storefront. A train clamored ahead, pulling to a stop that made its brakes grind against the metal track.

  Skirting her gaze to the tree lot across the next intersection, Hailey cut quickly down the alley and walked around the back of the building to her kitchen door, even though her heart was still pounding from the proximity of her ex. It was ridiculous, she knew. After all, they’d broken up eight years ago. Ancient history, really. Or it should be. And it would. Once he was gone again.

  It was Mandy’s day off, and Hailey was happy for it. She needed to think, problem-solve, not pretend like everything was fine when it wasn’t.

  Baking always calmed her, and as she tied an apron around her waist and pulled her ingredients from the shelf, she felt her shoulders relax. She worked for an hour on her breakfast offerings before pushing through the kitchen door to turn the sign, a tray of crumb cake in her hand.

  She was just turning the locks on the door when she saw him. Standing at the corner, Pete hovered at the intersection, looking both ways as a city bus rolled by before stepping off the curb and—

  God help her.

  Hailey stiffened in panic as Pete’s image grew closer in the window. She watched in horror as he crossed the street, hoping and praying that he would walk on past, or even go into the darn coffee shop across the street. But no, he was looking up at her sign, and her thermos was in his hand, and…

  She set the tray down and grabbed a spoon from the stack behind the counter and flipped it over in a vain attempt to check her reflection. It was wonky and wiggly like a carnival mirror, and she dropped it quickly as the butterflies danced through her stomach. She smoothed her hair, knowing it was too late to bother checking her lipstick, and wishing she didn’t care to.

  The bell over the door jingled and she dropped the spoon with a clamor, sensing a guilty flush heat her cheeks. He held up the metal thermos with a grin and waved it at her.

  “I’m returning this to you.”

  “Oh.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from creeping into her tone. What had she been hoping, that he was stopping in to talk, to see her…to rekindle something? That he had slept as terribly as she had last night and couldn’t wait to see her first thing this morning to set things right between them?

  Maybe she’d been hoping just that, she realized.

  She took the thermos from his hands, careful not to make body contact, even though it was tempting. It was very, very tempting. “I hope you enjoyed it.”

  “Almost as good as the first time,” he said, as a sad look shadowed his gaze.

  Hailey wanted to look away, but she couldn’t do that anymore than she could dismiss the memory of the first time they’d met. It was freshman year of college, and her dorm was having a bake sale to raise money for the new library. It was November, but an unseasonably cold one, and their small college town in Michigan had already seen the first snow. Hailey hadn’t minded. She’d put on her favorite cashmere sweater and stirred up one of her favorite recipes—French hot chocolate—just the way her grandmother had taught her back when she was too small to even reach the counter and had to stand on a chair, careful not to slip.

  Sales were slow, and the girls had been just about ready to pack up for the day, when Pete had approached the stand, his backpack swung over one shoulder, his nut brown hair tousled and a little wet from melted snow. She remembered how her entire body had gone on high alert, how the air felt crisper, the sounds and smells sharper, but at the same time everything had seemed to fade away, leaving only this new face, and that smile. Her stomach still fluttered when she thought of that smile. He’d bought a hot chocolate, and her hands had started to shake as she’d poured it while she tried to think of something clever to say and failed miserably.

  In the end, it had been Pete who asked for her name, after lingering to sip the entire drink, instead of walking off with it the way everyone else had. “Hailey,” she’d said, feeling that delicious sense of possibility.

  “Sweet Hailey,” he’d said with a slow smile.

  Her lashes fluttered at the memory now, and she pushed it back, locked it into place, a special moment, and one that only one other person shared.

  She looked at him again, at the sense of loss that passed through his face, and straightened her shoulders. Right. No use languishing in the past.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking about your idea.” As soon as the words were out, she immediately regretted them. What was she doing, considering selling her hot chocolate at that stand?

  “Reconsidering, are you?” His blue eyes glimmered with mirth, and damn him, but her stomach sort of rolled over.

  Couldn’t he have gotten a little plump in the eight years since they’d broken up? Gone a little grey or bald? Instead he had to look better than ever. All filled out and…manly.

  “I, um…” She blinked, knowing this was the moment, that she could accept his offer or leave it. And she should leave it, really she should. Except she was running out of options. And every little bit helped. She pulled in a breath. What choice did she have? “I’d be happy to offer my hot chocolate at your tree lot.” There, it was out. That wasn’t so bad, was it?

  Except… Those blue eyes were positively twinkling now, and that grin…oh, that grin. She never could resist the curl of those lips.

  “Excellent,” he said, rubbing his hands together to show his enthusiasm. “Should we start today?”

  She shrugged. It was still early, and seeing as she had little in the storefront to keep her busy, she saw no excuse. “I can bring it over in an hour, if that works.”

  “I’ll get something set up,” Pete said, backing up to the door. “So, see you in an hour?”

  “In an hour,” Hailey confirmed, and then wondered why the prospect of that left her almost breathless with joy.

  Chapter Five

  Pete was hanging wreaths along the trim of the holiday shop when Hailey stopped by the lot an exact hour and ten minutes later—carefully timed so as to not appear too eager, even if she had spent a solid fifteen of those minutes primping in the bathroom of her café, swiping on and off lipstick over a muttered debate that could be overheard by every soul in the place, should any have been there. Perhaps, luckily, the café door hadn’t reopened since Pete had left, and Hailey knew it was worth turning the “Closed” sign for a few minutes. If a sudden line of eager customers formed, she’d be able to dash across the street. The mere thought of it made her giggle aloud.

  “What’s so funny?” Pete asked, turning to flash her a wide grin.

  “Nothing,” Hailey said, shaking her head. In fact, there was nothing funny about this situation, even remotely. The man she’d turned down eight years ago was back in her life just as it was crumbling around her. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She thought if she ever saw Pete again—and that was a scenario she’d put to rest about a year after they’d ended things—she would be settled and happy and oh so very sure of the decision she’d made.

  Instead, she was left wondering how things might have been.

  “Your wreath is a little crooked.” She pointed to the one just below the light, which shone even now, in midmorning. The grey sky showed no signs of brightening, at least not for today, and Hailey looked around hopefully at the customers who were milling about, shopping for a tree. If even half of them tried her hot chocolate and decided to stop by the Beanery for a brownie or muffin to take home, then all this…temptation would have been worth it.

  She glanced in Pete’s direction, hating the flutter that ripped through her stomach as their eyes locked. Stiffening, she jutted her chin. “See? The bow’s off to the left a bit.”

  Pete just frown
ed and backed up until he was standing right by her side, so close, in fact, that the sleeve of his coat brushed hers. She clutched her bag of ingredients closer, wishing he would move away almost as much as she wished he would inch closer. He felt so familiar, standing there, so warm and comfortable. So right.

  Wrong! They were wrong for each other. They wanted different things out of life. And she’d be best to remember that.

  “Well, what do you know? It is crooked.” Pete stepped forward and reached up high, but his fingers barely grazed the wreath and sent it more askew. Cursing under his breath, he swept his gaze over the lot. “Mike’s on the ladder. My cousin,” he explained.

  Pete’s family had been like her own for many years, but the name was new to her. “Did I ever meet him?”

  “Nope.” Pete tried to jump up but only ended up knocking the wreath off the hook. He bent to pick up the ring of evergreen, and dusted off the snow. “He was living out west for a while. Just came to help with the lot after—”

  Hailey fell silent, hating the frown that pinched between Pete’s brows. His mouth was clamped firmly, and he stared at the wreath for a moment.

  “Come here. I’ll give you a boost,” he suddenly said.

  Hailey blinked. “Ex—excuse me?”

  Pete laughed softly. “You were quick to point out the wreath was crooked. Now you can help me fix it.”

  Hailey frowned with unease. She liked a solid five feet of space between her body and his, thank you very much.

  At least, she needed a solid five feet of space. What she wanted…was impossible, she reminded herself.

  “Can’t we just wait for your cousin to be finished with the ladder?” she asked hopefully.

  Pete shook his head. “He’s stringing lights. He’ll be up there all morning, or until a customer comes along and needs a sermon on the different types of evergreens.” He grinned a little wider. “Come on. I won’t drop you. Trust me.”