Christmas in Echo Creek_A Sweet Holiday Romance

by Kacey Linden

  She pointed to a table in the very farthest corner of the shop. “Sit,” she said. “But the cinnamon roll is mine.”

  Willow joined him at the table only a few minutes later, a latte in one hand and a pair of plates balanced in the other, a neatly sliced half of cinnamon roll on each plate.

  “I appreciate you taking pity on me,” Cale said, accepting his plate.

  “I only said yes so you’d quit implying to Jess that there’s anything going on between us.”

  Cale leaned back in his chair and studied her as she took a seat and sipped from her latte without meeting his eyes. Had she not felt what he did after that kiss? Had he been mistaken when he believed she’d been as stunned as he? He needed to know, before he made the terrible mistake of involving his heart where there was no hope of return.

  Maybe the best way to find out was simply to ask.

  “Is that because you believe there’s nothing, or because you want there to be nothing?”

  Willow was so startled she almost dropped her cup. “I… Cale! How can you just ask something like that without warning?” she sputtered, using her apron to wipe up the few drops of her drink that had landed on the table.

  “I guess I didn’t see the point in both of us sitting here wondering what the other was thinking. I enjoy spending time with you, and after I kissed you, I got the impression that maybe you weren’t entirely opposed to the idea.”

  She froze, her latte halfway to her lips. “I…”

  He’d pushed her too far. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, but he couldn’t imagine going through the next few weeks pretending that kiss had meant nothing.

  “If you’d rather forget it ever happened, I will respect your decision, but I think it’s only fair to tell you, that’s not what I want,” Cale said bluntly. He hadn’t intended to be quite that straightforward, but he didn’t want her to walk away believing that she had to deny her own feelings because of him. Or because of what the rest of the town might think. Better that they know each other’s thoughts now, no matter what they might be, before misunderstanding set in.

  “It isn’t?” Willow was pale, and her fingers shook where they wrapped around her cup. “Then… what do you want?” Her voice trembled almost as badly as her fingers.

  Cale considered all of the reasons why he shouldn’t say what he was about to say and ruthlessly rejected them. Maybe he should care that there were lies and investigations and a stolen car standing between them. Maybe he should care that he’d only known her for two short weeks. And maybe he should tell himself to walk away, because there was no way this could end in anything but hurt.

  But, despite what he’d told Uncle Pete, he had to believe there was a chance. That maybe there could be a Christmas miracle for both of them.

  “I want to find out what would happen if we stopped telling ourselves there’s no way this can work.”

  “What can work?” she asked, sounding a little desperate.

  “Us,” he said, looking directly into her eyes. “I want to know if you’d be willing to take a chance on us.”

  Chapter 9

  Us? Willow hadn’t realized how much she longed to hear that word until Cale said it. She hadn’t dared let herself believe that anyone would ever want an us. Not with her.

  So for a single moment, she allowed herself to be warmed by the idea that a man like Cale could want a relationship with someone as messed up and hopeless as her. For that one moment, she pretended that it was real and possible and everything she’d ever dreamed of had come true.

  But he kept talking, and all too soon that moment was gone.

  “I don’t think last night was just a fluke,” he went on seriously. “I felt something between us, and I think you did too.”

  He was talking about the kiss. About that one perfect moment in the doorway before he disappeared into the night. But that was all he was talking about—a single moment of magic, and all the sparkly feelings that went along with it. Not reality.

  “It was just a kiss, Cale,” she told him firmly. “That’s all. It didn’t mean anything. It was all moonlight and mistletoe and meddling older folks who wanted to relive their youth, but there’s no need to make anything of it.”

  “Isn’t there?” He leaned forward intently. “Willow, it isn’t just about the kiss. For two years, I’ve been drifting through life like a dead man, doing my job and going through the motions, but never really feeling anything. I didn’t plan to celebrate Christmas this year because I was so tired of the memories. But since you showed up—since I started spending time with you—I feel like I’m finally waking up.”

  “You’re getting over Marissa, that’s all,” she insisted.

  “No.”

  Apparently he wasn’t willing to just accept her excuses and go away.

  “Yes, I’m getting over Marissa, in ways I didn’t even realize I still needed to, but I haven’t so much as seen her in two years. That has nothing to do with what’s between you and me.”

  Cale didn’t hesitate, didn’t look away. “Willow, since you stumbled into this town we’ve argued with each other, worked together, played together, and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. Maybe you think I’m crazy, maybe it makes me selfish, but I don’t want to let that go or pretend it’s not real.”

  Cale didn’t have a selfish bone in his body that Willow had ever seen, but she needed to stop him before he went too far down this road.

  “It’s probably just Christmas,” she said desperately. “All of this Christmas spirit has you imagining these feelings, but as soon as the holidays are over you’ll realize that it was just the eggnog and cider talking.”

  He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Is that really all you think this is about? That I’m making this up because I don’t know the difference between a random moment under the mistletoe and a real connection? Don’t get me wrong, that kiss was amazing, but it isn’t just about that. Not for me.”

  Amazing? That wasn’t quite the word. Their kiss, brief as it was, had been something out of her most fantastic, unreachable dreams, a perfect moment, and a possible answer to the question she’d barely dared ask—what would it feel like to fall in love?

  But she could never tell him that. Whatever he thought he was feeling, she knew he didn’t—couldn’t—love her. This was a passing thing, a momentary lapse in judgement that he would regret once the dazzle and the magic of Christmas wore off.

  “Are you sure what you’re feeling isn’t just pity?” Willow asked, letting him hear the bitter edge to her tone. “Alicia was right, you know. All I’ve done since I arrived is take advantage of people’s kindness. Everyone has gone out of their way to help me, and I have nothing to offer in return. Maybe all you really need is someone to take care of, and as soon as I’m gone you’ll find another project to make you feel the same way.”

  “You are not a project, Willow,” Cale replied without so much as a pause. His dark eyes sparked, and Willow couldn’t tell whether it was warmth or anger. “And Alicia is a bitter, vindictive shrew. I’ve known Marcia for a long time, and I’ve never seen her as happy as she has been since you came, so you can just stop believing that you’re somehow using her. And who else could you possibly be taking advantage of? You’ve fit right in here at Creekside, and I know Rory likes you. Why do you feel the need to justify yourself?”

  She didn’t think she could explain it to someone like Cale. He had family. Friends. An entire town that both needed and wanted him.

  No one had ever valued her. Instead, she’d been viewed as a burden—to be ignored or rejected by everyone in her life. Elliot may not have rejected her, but he had given her a home only because he wanted to steal from her.

  If her own family had seen her as a burden, how could she believe that people she barely knew might see her any differently? So she had helped Cale forget his ex-fiancée. That was no reason to feel anything beyond gratitude, which was not an emotion to base a relationship on.

  “It doe
sn’t really matter,” she said, setting her cup back on the table carefully, determined to save them both from his mistake. “You know I’m leaving in a few weeks.”

  “That’s not the same as saying you’re not interested.”

  “No, but it should be,” she asserted, a little fiercely, finally gaining the courage to meet his serious dark-eyed gaze. “There are so many reasons that ‘us’ would be a terrible idea. Even if our feelings were real, there are too many things you don’t know about me. Things I don’t know about you. Why even try when we’ll only end up hurting each other?”

  “I guess I don’t see that as an inevitability,” he told her stubbornly. “Look, this isn’t about pity and it isn’t about not wanting to feel lonely at Christmas. I know what I feel is deeper than that, and I’m willing to fight for it.”

  He didn’t give up easily. Willow thought she would probably have admired that about him, except that it was getting in the way of her attempts to convince herself that she felt nothing. His insistence only increased her growing desire to know, even if only for a short time, what it felt like to have someone care about her.

  “I still need a reason,” she hedged. “I have nothing to offer, so I don’t understand why you care about being with me. When something seems too good to be true, I can’t help but feel suspicious. I know I’m going to keep looking for an ulterior motive, no matter how much I want to convince myself that this could be real.”

  Oops. Mistake. She saw the flare of victory in his eyes as he leaned in and put his elbows on the table.

  “Then you do feel something.”

  She didn’t say anything. She’d already given away too much.

  “Willow, I don’t care about you because of what you can give me,” Cale insisted. “You may not be able to believe this yet, but you are genuinely enough, just as you are.” He reached across the table and rested his hand over hers where it gripped the handle of her cup. “And I’ll try to convince you of that if you’ll let me.”

  Willow bit her lip as the murmur of voices and the crackle of the fire filled the air around them.

  What was the worst that could happen? Well, she already knew the answer to that—he would find out the truth about the car and he would hate her for lying. Would be forced to arrest her and turn her over to the Seattle police. At least, that was the worst that would happen if she simply left things between them as they were.

  If she let herself care, let herself give in to the attraction she felt, that wouldn’t be the worst any more—the worst would be learning to love him, learning what it felt like to be loved, and having it all ripped away.

  And yet… Would it be worth it? To have just one person look at her as though she were his whole world?

  “No one has ever wanted to be with me before,” she said softly, looking down at Cale’s hand where it covered her own, wishing she knew how to convey her feelings. “I don’t even know how to respond.”

  “I’m not asking for forever.” A smile curved the corner of his lips. “Just hoping I can convince you to give me a chance.”

  “And if I did…” She hesitated. “How do you see this ending? Are you going to be crushed when I drive away in a few weeks?”

  “I don’t think we need to plan that far ahead,” he argued. “One day at a time is enough. The question is, do you believe there’s anything here worth taking a chance on?”

  “I don’t know,” Willow heard herself say. “I… maybe.” Wait, what? She’d meant to tell him no. Hadn’t she?

  “Enough that you would agree to go with me on the Christmas tour?” Cale asked, grinning now, and tilting his head to get a better look at her face.

  Willow pulled her hand away from his, picked up her latte and tried to hide behind the cup.

  “You mean, like… a…” She couldn’t quite get the word out.

  “Not like a date, a date,” Cale teased her.

  “Who’s going on a date?” Rory walked up to their table, her face bright with interest.

  “We are,” Cale announced, eyes gleaming with mischief. “That is, if Willow says yes.”

  “Oooh, please say you’re going to take her on the Christmas tour!” Rory hugged herself with excitement. “I’m so thrilled it’s going to happen again this year! Cookies and cider and carols and hopefully snow.”

  Willow’s eyes widened at her boss’s enthusiasm. “I… haven’t decided yet. What did Alicia say? Am I in trouble?”

  “Over Alicia?” Rory looked momentarily shocked and then rolled her eyes. “I wish she would get the hint and stop coming in here. I’m completely over the thrill of having to appease her at every turn, but it’s too small of a town to just tell her not to come back.”

  “Should I apologize?” Willow kept her eyes fixed on her latte. She didn’t want to, but she would, if it would make things easier for Rory.

  “The only person you need to apologize to is Deputy Matthews,” Rory replied, straight-faced. “You’ve kept him waiting a whole two minutes for an answer.”

  “Okay fine, I’ll go, but what did Alicia say?”

  Rory sighed. “Willow, stop worrying. You had every right in the world to defend yourself. Under the circumstances, you were incredibly professional and self-controlled, and if it had been me I probably would have dumped her coffee right down the front of her poofy little vest and called it my good deed for the day.”

  “Oh.” Willow grinned.

  “Also, you should know that I consider you an exemplary employee and I’m already plotting ways to get you to stay. Even if I have to feed you cinnamon rolls and let you take hour-long daily coffee breaks with my favorite deputy, I’ll do it if it means you won’t leave me after the holidays.”

  Willow felt herself blush. “Thank you,” she murmured. “That means a lot. I wish I could…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Because it hadn’t been just a polite response to a compliment. She really did wish she could stay.

  “I think my break is over,” Cale said, into the sudden silence, “but I’ll see you tonight, Willow.”

  She looked up, surprised. “You will?”

  “Christmas Tour, remember?” he reminded her with a grin. “You only thought you were done decorating. I bet Mrs. Dillon already has a master plan to hang up twice as much garland and light up the entire front porch.”

  “I guess,” Willow said doubtfully. “But I don’t know where we’re going to put it all.”

  “And also, I’ll be coming over to see you.”

  She felt herself turn even redder.

  “Though I should probably ask you to come to my house instead later this week so Duke and Bear don’t get jealous.”

  What was happening? Had she agreed to be his girlfriend? She didn’t think she had, but everything seemed to have spiraled out of control.

  Rory burst out laughing. “Cale, slow down. One day at a time. Give Willow a chance to get used to the idea.”

  “What idea?” she asked weakly.

  “That I like you,” he said promptly, his brown eyes warm and smiling.

  Before she could really even process that statement, he had picked up his coffee and headed for the door, waving as the bells over the door jangled cheerfully to herald his departure.

  “What just happened?” Willow asked desperately.

  “I think you just agreed to go on a date with an incredibly smitten deputy.”

  “I meant to say no.”

  Rory sat in the chair Cale had just abandoned and raised an eyebrow at Willow. “Because you don’t want to go on a date or because you’re worried about hurting him?”

  “I can’t stay,” Willow reminded her. “I keep telling him that, but I don’t know if he believes me.”

  “Cale is an adult,” Rory said firmly. “He knows your story and he knows his own heart. If you want to do this, don’t let fear of the future stand in your way. Take a chance on today and see where it leads, because you never know where your road will take you.”

  “That sounds like a fo
rtune cookie,” Willow muttered, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering.

  Rory laughed. “It probably is. I’m not sure what came over me, handing out advice like I’m your grandmother.”

  “It isn’t that I’m not grateful,” Willow said earnestly. “I’ve never really had anyone to give me advice before, and I’m sure it’s wise, it’s just…”

  “You’re afraid to believe it’s real?”

  Willow’s eyes jerked up to land on Rory’s. “How did you know?”

  “I told you, I have my own scars.” Rory’s smile was bittersweet. “I know what it feels like to be afraid of happiness, afraid of good things because they’re never real and they never last.”

  “Then how did you get here?” Willow waved a hand to indicate the beautiful coffee shop they sat in. “How did you find the courage to make this happen?”

  “Someone believed in me,” Rory told her, reaching out and pressing her hand. “Someone saw more in me than I could see in myself and showed me that the world is always better when we allow ourselves to love and be loved.”

  “Is it?” Willow asked wistfully, standing up and pushing back her chair.

  “Always.” Rory moved around the table to wrap her up in a hug. “Just give it a chance,” she whispered. “You won’t regret it.”

  Cale parked his truck in front of Marcia’s house, rubbing his eyes and wondering nervously what he was going to find inside.

  He’d decided to blame lack of sleep for his actions that morning. He’d never intended to push Willow into agreeing to go on a date with him, and was still a little surprised that she’d said yes.

  Given how stunned she’d looked, she’d probably changed her mind since. Would Marcia even let him in, if Willow had decided she didn’t want to see him?

  There was no way to know if he didn’t get out of his truck.

  He made it all the way up the walk, and was standing in front of the door with his fist raised to knock when the door flew open. He expected Marcia, but it was Willow, her eyes wide, her hair loose, and her feet clad only in socks. She looked both ways, then stepped out onto the porch and shut the door carefully behind her.