A Chance This Christmas

Gavin.

Seeing his name right after she’d been daydreaming about him sent a shiver through her. She couldn’t possibly talk to him now when she was so confused about him. Them. She held her breath as she let the call go to voicemail.

He’d messaged her earlier in the day, asking her to attend the rehearsal dinner with him. She’d thanked him nicely but refused. At this point, the main person she needed to see was the groom and she certainly wasn’t going to make peace with Luke at his rehearsal dinner. She’d have to find him before the dinner began. She’d called him twice this week and left her number.

The calls had gone unanswered.

Somehow, she needed to step up her efforts to see him. Then, she’d give Kiersten the dresses, talk her mother out of giving back that money, and maybe she’d finally feel like she’d made peace with the past. Maybe she’d find the same closure her girlfriends had when they followed that radio talk show’s advice.

Her phone vibrated a second, chastising time.

Feeling like she needed more time to figure out her next move with him, Rachel didn’t look at the screen, concentrating on smoothing out any wrinkles before she bagged Emma’s bridesmaid gown. Luke’s bachelor party should still be going on tonight, so she wasn’t sure why Gavin would be calling.

Turning back to the sewing table to switch off the task lamp, a thump reverberated against the attic windowpane.

She jumped back with a yelp. When she’d caught her breath again, she braved a peek outside.

Through the glow of red and green lights from her mother’s perpetually decorated house, Rachel squinted down to street level and saw Gavin Blake packing another snowball. A flutter of nerves or maybe pleasant awareness flitted through her. He squeezed the snow tight between two palms while she hurried to crack open the casement window.

“Gavin!” she whisper-yelled so as not to awaken her mother sleeping on the floor below. “What are you doing?”

Dropping the snowball, he swiped his hands together to dust off the flakes. He backed up a step so he didn’t have to crane his neck to see her. It really wasn’t fair he looked that good at midnight after a bachelor party. With his jeans, boots, and a gray fisherman’s sweater, he seemed impervious to the weather. Or like a man who practically lived in the snow.

“I’m trying my best to get your attention since you won’t answer your phone.” He folded his arms. “Now, do you want to come out and talk to me? Or do I need to come in there?”





Chapter Nine





A few minutes later, Rachel emerged wearing the green hooded cape and a pair of tall, fur-lined boots. Her dark hair was in a high ponytail and her face looked scrubbed clean in the moonlight. He knew he hadn’t woken her though, because he’d seen her shadow moving around in the uppermost window of Teeny Elf’s place. And yeah, he’d watched her for longer than he had a right to.

He’d been thinking about her all night, his preoccupation making him a fairly poor bachelor party host. Still, he’d done it because Luke was his buddy. Now, however, Gavin was very ready to see Rachel. Their talk the night before had ended too abruptly and left too many questions between them unanswered.

“You’re insane,” she accused in a soft grumble, snow muffling her steps as she moved toward him silently. “I thought you were supposed to be leading your friends in a raucous party before Luke ties the knot.”

“I did all the raucous partying I cared to do.” He shrugged. “I’m in training for one thing.” He didn’t take his performance lightly. “And for another, I knew all day that I wanted to try and see you tonight.”

She stared up at him with wide blue eyes, her dark bangs brushing the tops of her eyebrows. “The traditional approach is to arrange a meeting day ahead of time.”

“Which isn’t easy when you don’t answer my calls or texts.”

“So you pelt my windows with snowballs?” She shivered, hugging the cape tighter.

“You used to like sneaking out at night,” he reasoned. “I did it for old time’s sake.” Taking one of her hands, he threaded her fingers through his and huffed a warm breath over her cool skin. “Why don’t we talk in my kitchen so you can warm up? I make a mean hot cocoa.”

She glanced at his house just a few steps away. Thinking.

“You can tell me how I should lay out the first floor when I pitch the revamped house to the town council.” He did have to write the proposal soon so he could start work on the house in the new year.

“I did want to share a crazy idea of my mom’s.” She looked to where he held her hand close to his lips.

He lowered it, not wanting to scare her off. “I have a lot of things I want to talk to you about too, Rachel. And I promise to be a total gentleman.”

She nodded, flustered. Even in the moonlight he could see her blushing. “Of course. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Good.” Willing himself to let go of her completely, he forced his fingers to uncurl from around hers. “Because I have some of those homemade marshmallows they sell at the bakery. That’s my secret ingredient for the cocoa.”

“Now you’re just not fighting fair,” she accused softly, but she smiled at him in a way that made his chest squeeze tight. “I’d better have a taste or I’ll be dreaming about—” She slid a glance his way. “Er. That. The marshmallows, I mean.”

Something about that charged look she gave him let him know he wasn’t alone in thinking about her all day. Rachel Chambers had been contemplating him, too.

“Come on.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket and walked the side door of his place, determined to stick to the gentleman agenda.

A promise was a promise, after all.

A half an hour later, they were seated on the floor in front of the fireplace in the living room. She’d been the one to wander out of the kitchen—where he’d had every intention of staying—to bring her hot chocolate in front of the hearth. He’d stirred the blaze to life easily since he’d left a thick hickory log to burn earlier in the day. The thing hadn’t been all the way dry at the time, but after a slow burn for hours, it threw more heat with a little coaxing.

“And you can’t talk her out of it?” Gavin asked about the plan of her mother’s that Rachel was worrying about.

“I’ve tried. She’s adamant. And that’s a lot of money for her.”

“That’s a lot of money for most people.” He didn’t like the idea at all. Molly had been blameless in her husband’s theft. “But I worry if she makes a public act of donating the money, it will be difficult for the town to refuse. The council will be under a certain amount of pressure to accept it.”

Rachel leaned back against the leather wingback, setting aside her empty mug. “When’s the next meeting?”

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