As Nick stared at the towering pine, draped in ribbons and sparkling lights, a startling truth solidified in his heart. Christmas wasn’t a coping mechanism. Or a to-do list. It was a celebration. A celebration of the life-changing love bestowed in a lowly manger—God’s gift of hope to the world.
He’d come to the small town of Thistle River in search of a light bright enough to dim the darkness inside him. He thought he’d find it among the festive trappings and trimmings, but he’d looked in all the wrong places. In the end, Nick found God’s love reflected in the kindness of others, like the brightest star in the sky guiding him to where he belonged—to the family of his heart.
He reached for Callie’s hand, entwining their fingers. She leaned her head against his shoulder, so instant and innate, as if she’d done it all her life.
“Almost ready to go home?” she asked, snuggling against him in the chilly night air.
He nestled his cheek against her hair, savoring the sweet scent of the silky-soft strands. “I’m already there,” he whispered. “I’m already there.”
Juliet sat perfectly still, immobilized by an unfamiliar emotion. Was it satisfaction in her own work? Self-respect? Although she knew the manuscript would require some serious editing, she loved the world and characters she’d created. Dare she admit, she felt almost proud?
But as soon as the euphoric feeling settled in her heart, another more powerful emotion took over—fear. Fear of what her editor would say when she submitted a romance novel, not the literary masterpiece she’d promised. And worse—what would her parents say? Would they be embarrassed? Ashamed? Disappointed? What if they didn’t want anything to do with her and her silly, derivative book?
The agonizing, unanswered questions assaulted her at an alarming speed, almost stealing every ounce of joy she’d earned by finally writing The End. Luckily, she had two more days before her new deadline. She’d planned to use the time to rewrite Nick’s character and make him less identical to Nate, even though the prospect made her sadder than it should. Nickwas a fictional character, after all, so she knew it was the right thing to do.
Plus, the two extra days would help her gather her courage. And hopefully, she’d devise the perfect way to tell her parents. At the mere thought of the impending conversation, anxiety fluttered erratically in her chest like a frantic bird with a wounded wing. She tried to push the topic from her mind. She deserved a break, and that night, she’d get to share her favorite Poppy Creek tradition with Nate—Pajama Christmas. The quirky tree-lighting ceremony—where everyone in town wore festive PJs—had even inspired the final scene of her novel. And now, she’d get to live out the romantic moment herself.
Don’t let fear of the future steal your present joy,she reminded herself.
She mentally repeated the mantra as she walked into the living room moments later, clad in the plaid flannel pajamas Aunt Beverly had picked out. When she reached the threshold, she paused, rendered speechless by the sight before her. Nate stood by the fireplace, wearing a matching pair of PJs. With one arm propped against the mantel, he leaned forward, gazing into the flickering flames. The golden glow highlighted his chiseled features. With his strong, muscular frame filling out the festive ensemble, he looked both ruggedly handsome and adorably snuggable.
He must have sensed her presence because he straightened and met her gaze. In an instant, a glimpse of their future flashed before her eyes. It was Christmas morning, and they were cuddled on the couch in front of the fire while their posse of children—both biological and foster—tore open their presents. The image was so visceral and intense, her throat went dry.
Get a grip, Jules. It’s fiction. And way too soon for thoughts like that.
She blamed her recent writing sessions for putting romance on the brain.
Don’t overthink it. Just enjoy a sweet, sexy man decked out in the softest fabric ever invented. You don’t need to skip to happily ever after just yet.
She tried to focus on breathing normally while begging her cheeks not to turn bright pink. But the way Nate looked at her—like a starving man presented with an extravagant Christmas feast—wasn’t helping.
“Well, don’t you two look cute as a button,” Aunt Beverly cooed, coming in from the kitchen. She wore the same plaid flannel, only sewn into a long nightgown with lace ruffles at the cuffs and collar.
Frank trudged behind her wearing a matching nightshirt and floppy Scrooge-style nightcap. “We look ridiculous.”
“We’re festive, darling. It’s part of the fun.”
“Is freezing to death the other part?”
“You may wear your coat over your pajamas,” she said patiently. “Just don’t button it up all the way.”
Juliet shared an amused smile with Nate as he helped her into her coat. Frank tried to be a good sport most of the time, but the man had his limits. Apparently, wearing a long flannel nightshirt in public crossed the line. Luckily, by the time they arrived at the town square and joined the flurry of festivities, his spirits had lifted.
Between the live band performing holiday favorites, the magical glow of twinkle lights glittering across the square, and a plethora of booths offering mouthwatering treats like chocolate-covered sugar plums, deep-fried fruitcake, and sticky toffee pudding on a stick, it was impossible to be anything but merry and bright.
Nibbling on a shared bag of peanut brittle popcorn, Juliet and Nate stood side by side, staring at the small stage in eageranticipation of the official tree-lighting ceremony. Every time their elbows bumped or their fingers grazed, a shiver of delight skittered up her arm. Would this heavenly feeling ever fade? She hoped not.
“That’s an impressive tree.” Nate gazed at the towering pine draped in hundreds of bulbs, waiting to be lit.
“Each ornament was handmade by schoolchildren.” She fondly recalled being able to participate when she was younger.
“That reminds me.” Nate cleared his throat, and the energy between them suddenly shifted. Why did he look so nervous? “I made you something.” He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a small object wrapped in gold paper.
“When did you have time to make me something?”
“It’s no big deal.”
She handed him the bag of popcorn so she could unwrap his gift. Her pulse thrummed as she carefully peeled back the paper. Nestled inside the wrapping sat a wooden ornament shaped like a book. In the center, Nate had carved the outline of a heart.
