by Olivia Miles
She didn’t know the answer to that question anymore than Mandy seemed to by the bewildered expression on her face. She picked up a serrated knife and began cutting at a brick of milk-chocolate, one of three varieties used in the muffins. “I guess it comes down to what lets you sleep at night.”
Who said anything about getting sleep? She’d struggled enough since that café across the street had opened, and now with Pete’s return, slumber might never come again.
Hailey walked into the storefront, started the coffee and turned the sign on the door, and then came back into the kitchen to do some more baking. She folded some chocolate chips into her brownie batter, nearly jumping when the bells from the storefront chimed.
Mandy met her gaze across the work top. “Is that…a customer? You only turned the sign a moment ago.” Mandy set down her wooden spoon. “I’ll go see what’s going on out there.”
Hailey didn’t even have time to transfer some scones to a basket before she was back through the swinging door, cheeks flushed, her mouth twisting into a smile she couldn’t suppress.
“You’re needed in the storefront, Hailey.”
Hailey looked at her suspiciously, but she wasn’t about to argue. Her heart began to thump as she followed her assistant into the café, wondering what all the fuss could be about, until she saw it: a line. An actual line of people gathering at the counter, murmuring and chatting and discussing their options as they pointed at things through the display case.
She barely had time to think, much less react, even when all she wanted to do was jump for joy.
Just like the slowdown had never happened, she and Mandy fell automatically into their old routine—Mandy working the espresso machine while Hailey handled the counter line.
Hailey caught Mandy’s eye and slid her a smile. Everything might just turn out all right after all.
***
Pete closed his laptop and rubbed his neck, wincing at the knots that had formed in the two hours since he’d sat down. No matter how many times he crunched the numbers or analyzed scenarios where he was laying off staff or cutting other necessary costs, he couldn’t find a way to cover the loan by January first, and his last attempt at asking for an extension hadn’t received a reply yet.
He looked down into his mug. Cold. And a film had formed on the top since his last sip.
He checked his watch, realizing with a start that Hailey was probably already setting up her stand, and stood to grab his jacket from the hook on the door.
Sure enough, she was in the holiday shop, whisking up her sweet concoction when he rounded the path a minute later. Her hair was pulled into a low braid today, poking out from her thick wool hat, where it draped over the shoulder of her coat. She grinned when she saw him, one of those big, boasting, knowing grins that told him she knew something he didn’t. Yet.
“Uh-oh. What is it?” he joked, feeling his mood lift.
She didn’t try to contain her excitement. “We had fifteen customers within our first hour of opening this morning! They’re all asking for my hot chocolate.”
He rolled back on his heels, unable to hide his smile. “So it’s caught on then. See, I—”
She held up a hand. “I don’t need a ‘told ya so.’” She flashed him another smile. “But okay, you were right. But then, aren’t you always?”
“Not always,” he said, as their eyes locked for a beat. He rubbed his jaw, wishing he hasn’t said anything, that the regret he was feeling wasn’t muddled in with a greater pull, one called guilt.
“Still worried about the tree farm?” her voice was soft, but he didn’t want her concern. Didn’t deserve it, actually.
It had been too easy to blame her. To see the rejection. But that wasn’t entirely fair.
Clearing his throat, he recovered himself. “We should celebrate your success.”
She demurred, shaking her head as she unwrapped a plate of delicious-looking brownies. “Oh…I don’t want to jinx it.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s to celebrate the small things. Enjoy the present. Not worry about the future.”
She jutted her lip, her smile hesitant. “Okay then. What should we do?”
“You leave that up to me. What evening are you free?”
Hailey’s expression seemed uncertain, and for a moment he wondered if he’d overstepped or if he was pushing too hard. “Saturday night? Sundays are my late start days, otherwise I’m up at five to start prepping.”
He grinned. “Saturday it is then.”
So much for not thinking about the future…
Chapter Nine
“Hot date?”
Pete caught Mike’s reflection in the mirror and shot him a steady look. “Who says things like that anymore?” He shook his head as he rinsed his razor in the sink and then ran it over his face one more time, careful to be sure that no strips of shaving cream remained.
Behind him, Mike just grinned. “Someone with a hot date, that’s who.”
As the water drained, Pete grabbed his collared shirt from its hanger and shrugged into it. “Oh? The girl from the tree lot?”
Mike shrugged. “What can I say? Turns out she’s interested in more than just my knowledge of holiday greenery.”
“And here I thought you’d won her over with your bad jokes.” Pete laughed as he followed his cousin into the hallway and retrieved his coat from the closet. He held the front door open while Mike passed, hoping to avoid mention of where he was headed this evening, but it was no use. Mike was feeling chatty, and it wasn’t often that Pete went out after he’d come in for the day. Even in Timber Valley. He was happier to kick back at home with a beer and a ballgame than sit at a bar table, chatting with a pretty girl, thinking of the one he’d left behind.
“So where are you headed?” Mike wanted to know, but Pete didn’t feel like getting into details.
“Oh, just thought I’d explore the city a bit.” He punched a button for the elevator and the doors promptly slid open. He stepped inside, saying nothing more. He was decidedly vague, and sure enough, Mike shot him a look from the corner of his eye that showed he wasn’t buying it.
“Thought you did that last weekend,” Mike observed.
Pete shrugged. “Well, there’s more to be seen.” They reached the bottom floor of the apartment building, where a cab was already waiting for Mike.
“Can I give you a lift?”
“No, I’m fine. Have fun tonight.”
“You can bet I will.” Mike grinned, and Pete chuckled to himself, hoping the same could be said for himself.
The tree lot was only a few blocks south, and Pete figured he’d walk, take in the surroundings, clear his head. He took his time, walking past the tall brownstones behind iron gates, most with big, artificial trees gracing their front bay windows. Back in his Wisconsin hometown you’d never see anyone with a plastic tree—not unless they were allergic to the real thing, and even then…who wanted to give up the smell of Christmas?
That’s what his dad had always called it. The smell of Christmas. Only this year it didn’t feel like Christmas, and not because he was in the city, far from his childhood home and all its annual traditions.
This would be the first Christmas his family had without their father. And so help him, this wouldn’t be the last Christmas they had in their home.
He walked purposefully to the tree lot and opened the gate. In the dark of night, the holiday shop looked like nothing more than a garage, and he quickly turned on the Christmas lights that edged the roofline, transforming the industrial looking space into something that could almost pass for charming. Inside, he turned on the electric heaters and tree lights, deciding to leave the overhead lighting off. In the center of the floor he set down a thick wool blanket and then, from the trailer, retrieved a bag of items he’d bought at a nearby grocery store on his break earlier that day.
He assembled the cheese on a wooden board and sliced the bread, realizing with a start that he was recreating
one of their favorite Saturday rituals, even though he hadn’t thought of it…hadn’t dared to in a long time.
He stared at the picnic he’d set up on the blanket, wondering if he should just abandon the idea and take Hailey out for dinner instead, when he felt something rustle behind him.
He looked up, his gaze trailing long legs all the way up to long, windblown hair, and felt his gut tighten. “I made a picnic for us,” he said, pulling himself up from his knees until he was standing at full height, looking down at her slightly from his four-inch advantage.
Her eyes drifted over the offerings, and he balled a fist, wondering if he’d sent the wrong message, or if it was exactly what he had been trying to say all along and never could. He still wanted her. Always had.
“Wine and cheese.” She gave a sad smile as her eyes floated to his. “You remembered.”
“We could go out if you prefer. Or order a pizza. It’s—”
“It’s beautiful,” she said firmly.
“You’re beautiful,” he blurted, before he could stop himself. He saw the surprise in her face, but he didn’t apologize, couldn’t take back his words if he wanted.
“Should I sit?” She motioned to the blanket.
“Not so fast,” he said. “You gave me a tour of your life the other night. Tonight it’s my turn.”
She looked intrigued. “Okay, then. Where are you taking me?”
“On a walk through the forest,” he said. Without asking, he quietly slipped his hand into hers, his nerve endings tensing with the pleasure at the once so simple gesture. Her fingers were cold, but they warmed quickly in his.
He took her the long way around the lot, starting with the farthest aisle from the holiday shop, careful to point out all the characteristics that made each tree unique, just as his father had done with him once, when he was just a kid.
She looked at him in wonder as they reached his favorite: the Douglas fir. “You really know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, I should hope so!” he remarked on a laugh. “It’s the family business, after all.” He dropped her hand to crouch down onto the snow-covered gravel.
Hailey gave a whoop of delight. “What are you doing?”
He unzipped his jacket and laid it on the ground next to him. The wind tore through his sweater, but he didn’t mind. Besides, it had nothing on the Wisconsin winters he’d grown so used to. “Sit,” he said, patting his jacket.
She hesitated for a moment before joining him. “What are we doing?” she whispered, nudging him with her shoulder.
He leaned in until her hair brushed his cheek, until he could smell that sweet, indescribable scent that brought back a hundred wonderful memories and none of the bad ones. “Look up.”
As instructed, she lifted her chin, and when he was finally able to tear his gaze from hers, he did, too. All around them were treetops of every shape and size and shade of green and silver, some covered with snow, some shaken free.
“Wow,” she murmured. “I don’t even feel like I’m in the city anymore!”
“This is my world.” He inhaled the sweet smell of pine. “When I was young, this was my view of it all. But my dad…My dad would drop to his knees, right beside me, and look up, and he’d say, See these trees? These aren’t just any trees. These are Christmas trees. These are the trees dreams are made on.”
His smile faded when he thought of how long ago that was. He leaned back, until he was flat on his back, the snow in his hair, the trees tall all around him.
He felt Hailey reach over and take his hand again, and he squeezed it tight, and for the thousandth time in the eight years since the night she’d broken his heart, and he hers, he made a Christmas wish on these treetops, and dared to hope that this year, it might just come true.
***
Years ago she’d shunned this exact image. Of nothing but the sky and the trees and his hand in hers. Hailey knew that back in the holiday shop a beautiful picnic of wine and cheese was waiting for them, but lying here, in the snow, next to Pete, she couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be.
Tearing her eyes from the stars and snow-covered trees, she craned her neck to study his familiar profile, her heart twisting at the sight. “I can see why you love this so much. Why you chose this over law school.” Over me, she finished to herself.
He looked at her, his expression pensive. “Hailey, there’s something you should know. The reason I went back to Timber Valley wasn’t because I’d had a change of heart about moving here with you. It was because my dad had a stroke and he needed my help with the farm.”
Hailey blinked at him. For a moment it felt like the world around them had gone still, that everything she’d ever believed or thought to be true had been pulled out from under her. She sat up quickly, staring at him. “A stroke! But you never told me.”
Pete shook his head as he propped himself up on his elbows. “I didn’t want you to come with me for the wrong reasons. I was already giving up my dreams. I didn’t want you to give up yours, too. I wanted you to do what you really, truly wanted.”
“Even if that wasn’t to move with you to Wisconsin.” Hailey closed her eyes as she looked down at the ground, but it did little to stop the tears that were prickling the back of her eyes.
One slipped free when she looked up at him again. Sweet, loving Pete. The man who had asked her to marry him. The man she had turned down. The man she had tried to forget and never could and now, never would.
She didn’t want to forget him anymore. Or miss him. She just wanted to stay right here, like this, forever.
Silently, he brought his hand to her cheek and brushed away her tear with the back of his thumb. His hand was warm, smooth, and tender. She licked her bottom lip, feeling something cold prick it.
She blinked, looking up as all around them, huge flakes of snow fell softly.
“It’s snowing!” She leaned her head back onto the blanket to look up at the sky, where white flurries danced across the darkness, glittering in the glow of the lights. The world around them was huge and quiet, not even a train could be heard in the distance, and for a moment she really could almost believe that she was on Cameron’s Tree Farm, in Timber Valley, not in Lincoln Park, Chicago, with her long-dreamed-of café just a few hundred feet behind her.
And she was happy, she realized. Really, truly happy.
She just might have needed to try things on her own first to realize that.
“You know, the other night, I wanted to kiss you.” His voice was low and husky, and her heart skipped a beat as she searched his face. Once it had been so natural to lean in, brush her mouth to his, taste him, but now, it felt new and uncertain and…exciting.
“Why didn’t you?” she asked quietly.
“I guess I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”
“I never wanted you to stop kissing me,” she said, as he leaned in to brush his mouth with hers, as if no time had ever passed at all.
Chapter Ten
The sound of a shrill whistle roused Hailey from her sleep. She frowned, wondering why a kettle would be on, and then shot up in panic.
But there was no kettle. And no bed either, for that matter. She was sitting on the big wool blanket on the floor of the holiday shop, still wearing her winter coat, staring face to face with a man who wore a red wool cap and a mischievous grin. Pete’s cousin, she realized, even though she’d only dealt with Pete on her visits to the tree lot.
“Well, well,” Mike said, chuckling as he rolled back on his heels, quite tickled indeed.
Hailey felt a hot flush cover her cheeks, but before she could start to explain, Pete grumbled something beside her.
“A tour of the city, was it?” Mike said, unable to suppress the amusement in his tone.
“What are you doing here?” Pete sighed.
The guy made a grand show of tapping his watch. “The gate opens in fifteen minutes. When I didn’t see you at the apartment, I thought maybe you got an early start.” His gaze drifted to H
ailey. “But it would seem like a late night might be a better description.”
“Mike, this is Hailey. Hailey, this is my cousin Mike.”
“A tour guide?” Mike asked, grinning as he held out his hand. “Or… a hot chocolate maker? We’ve never officially met.”
Despite the awkward circumstances, Hailey couldn’t help but smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“Well, I’ll leave you two alone,” Mike said, closing the door behind him.
Pete dropped onto his back, shielding his eyes with his hands as he groaned. “He’s never going to let me forget this.”
“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m about to do the walk of shame when I leave here, even though we dated for three years?”
“Those were a good three years,” Pete said.
Hailey grew quiet. “They were.”
Pete cleared his throat as he pulled up into a sitting position again. “What time do you need to be at the café?”
“Not until noon. My assistant covers the first shift.” She eyed him carefully. “Why?”
Pete checked his watch and then held up a finger. “Stay right here.” Before she could say anything more, he stood and disappeared through the holiday shop door, leaving her alone, though no doubt Mike was looming close, that smirk still plastered on his face.
She smoothed her hair and looked around, feeling uneasy and confused. She should leave. She really should. Go home. Shower. Clear her head. If such a thing were possible after last night.
She was just standing to go when the door pulled open again and there was Pete, his hair still tousled, wearing yesterday’s clothes, a steaming mug in each hand, that from the delicious scent could only be coffee.