Maybe this Christmas festival was going to be more interesting than I thought.
2
JONAS
In front of me, on that stage, was the woman I was going to marry.
I knew it as sure as I knew my buddy Wade would place first in the chili cook-off with his “Mountain Man Fire” recipe. Some things were just so predictable, you could bet on them. And I was putting all my money—hell, my whole damn future—on Paige Ashby becoming my wife before next year’s Christmas festival.
“Are we ready to light up Wildwood Valley?” Tessa Pearce, the brand-new town mayor, asked into the microphone.
Cheers went up all around. All eyes were on the mayor. All eyes but mine.
My gaze stayed locked on Paige, who stood right beside her in that long, red coat that hugged her waist and flared over her hips, her Santa hat perched just so on top of all that silky dark hair. She held a bell in each hand, and when Mayor Pearce gave her the nod, Paige lifted her chin, squared those gorgeous rounded shoulders, and rang the green one first, then the red.
The mayor followed with the silver bell, and then Wade and Buck hit the switch that sent the magic surging through the wires we’d spent all week rigging.
“Whoa,” the crowd murmured in unison.
I forced my eyes off Paige for half a second, long enough to take in the giant Christmas tree blazing in front of us. Our team had worked damn hard to make it the most impressive the town had ever seen. Every branch shimmered under the weight of lights and ornaments. The gold and white and deep green glowed like a beacon against the dark mountain sky.
It should have been the most beautiful thing I’d seen all night. But when I glanced back at Paige, saw her face lit with pure wonder as she gazed at what I’d helped create, I knew better. The tree was impressive, but she was breathtaking.
She belonged up there. All that nervous energy she’d had earlier about being on stage had melted away the second she’d stepped into the glow. She rang those bells like she was conducting an orchestra, confident and graceful, as though she’d been waiting her whole life for this moment.
And me? I was standing there gawking like a lovesick teenager, when I was supposed to be the gruff, levelheaded guy who kept his emotions locked down tight.
The band started playing, guitars echoing over the crowd as Paige and Mayor Pearce stepped down from the stage. My eyes tracked her every move, the way that coat swayed against her curves as she wove through the families and couples still buzzing about the lights.
She was heading toward the exit.
No. Hell no.
I’d just figured out she was the woman I wanted to spend my life with, and she was going to vanish into the night like some kind of Christmas Cinderella?
I shoved my way through the crowd, stepped on a few boots, and muttered half-hearted apologies. My chest pounded, urgency thrumming in my veins.
And then she stopped. Right there by her vendor booth, at the edge of the festival crowd. She turned. Her gaze locked with mine.
Busted.
I froze mid-stride, caught like a thief in the act. She’d been watching me chase her. Her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile that made my stomach drop and my pulse skyrocket all at once.
God help me, she was gorgeous. Those lips. That smile. The delicate slope of her jaw. The dark sweep of her lashes framing eyes that didn’t just look at me, they saw me.
“You know,” she said, her voice carrying easily over the noise around us, “most people watch the tree during the tree lighting ceremony.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “The tree was fine.”
“Was it?” She tilted her head, a little strand of hair falling loose from beneath her Santa hat. “Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were watching something else entirely.”
I could deny it. Play it cool. Make a joke about raccoon patrol or festival security.
But the truth burned in my chest, refusing to be smothered.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice low. “I was.”
Her smile widened, slow and wicked, and it did things to me I couldn’t even put into words. My heart thudded so hard I was half afraid she could hear it. Something uncurled in my chest—something I’d been keeping locked away for far too long.
