Page 9 of Christmas In Love

Cade was standing just inside the front door, looking like he’d forgotten to keep walking. One hand was in the middle of ruining his hair, and the other gripped his phone.

She took half a step forward, causing the floorboard beneath her to squeak, and he looked up. Distress colored his expression. The shadows under his eyes seemed more pronounced, the lines around his mouth stiffer.

Words slipped out of her, forgetting they weren’t dating anymore. They weren’t even friends. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” He pressed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Yes, actually. I’m fine. It’s just…” He looked back at his phone and sighed. “One of my kids isn’t doing well. Another doctor on the team called to consult. We’re worried he won’t last through Christmas.”

Natalie’s stomach dropped. “How old is he?”

“Six.”

A strangled sort of sigh escaped her. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Cancer.” Cade ran his hand through his hair again. “Poor kid hasn’t known life without it hanging over his head, but up until a couple of months ago, he was in remission.”

Another piece of Natalie’s heart broke off. “That’s terrible,” she whispered. “His poor family.”

“Yeah.”

For a long moment, they just stood there in mutual distress, with the wind from the storm beating against the windows. He continued to stare at his phone, his jaw tight and his eyes flicking back and forth across the latest message he’d received. He ran his hand through his hair again, the action both tense and weary. The years between them seemed to melt away, and Natalie wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around him and lend him some comfort in a small way. She couldn’t. But she wanted to do something, so she offered the next best thing she could think of.

“Can I make you hot chocolate? I have some leftover cinnamon rolls from yesterday, too, if you want?”

Her voice seemed to surprise him. Maybe he’d forgotten she was there. His stance wasn’t stiff as it had been the night he’d checked in, nor mostly relaxed as the last two times they'd talked since. It was somewhere in between—he held himself in a way that indicated he felt unsure. The floorboard beneath him creaked as he shifted his weight.

She waited for him to say no—halfway hoped it, honestly. But he didn’t. He just nodded once, looking at his phone one more time before pocketing it.

Natalie led the way into the kitchen, flipping on a light and trying to come up with something to say to fill the crackling air between them. Years before, she’d been head over heels for this guy. Those feelings had fizzled forever ago. Or, she’d thought they had. Until he’d showed back up and this undeniable pull to him had rematerialized. Maybe she’d only ever buried the feelings.

But dang it, she was trying to deny them. In a couple of days he would be gone. Maybe even tomorrow. And while he was here, the past still hung between them, creating distance she refused to cross.

She put on a pot of milk—because it was a travesty to make hot chocolate with water—and pulled the cinnamon rolls from the fridge, taking off the plastic wrap and popping them in the microwave. For a few minutes, preparing everything kept her busy, but she felt Cade’s eyes on her the entire time.

“I don’t remember you knowing your way around the kitchen so well,” Cade commented quietly, as she set two mugs and a plate of rolls between them.

“Are you referring to that one dinner I burned?” Natalie sat on a barstool at the table, opposite him.

“There was only one?” Cade raised his brows innocently as he took a cinnamon roll.

Natalie laughed, the emotion pushing away some of the despair that still seemed to float around in her heart at the thought of that little boy fighting for his life. “Okay, so maybe two. Three at most.”

Cade raised a brow again, but didn’t comment, except to say, “Really, these are the best cinnamon rolls I think I’ve ever had.”

Natalie ducked her head. “Thanks. I still burn dinner, but I’ve gotten pretty fantastic at breakfast.”

They ate in silence, sipping their hot chocolate. After a minute, Natalie turned the TV in the corner of the room on low, just so the silence wouldn’t be so loud.

Cade’s left hand rested on the table, inches from hers, a leather watch strapped to his wrist, ticking away almost silently. How would it feel to hold his hand again? Familiar? Different? Probably a mix of both.

“How did you end up owning an inn?”

Natalie ripped her gaze from his hand.

“Oh, my best friend moved here a few years ago, after she got tired of Denver. Wait—you remember April, right?”

He nodded, taking a sip from his drink.

“Well, she moved here, then her younger sister followed, and she’s been begging me to come for years. I guess she eventually wore me down, because I moved here about a year ago, then decided to buy and renovate the inn. I’m still trying to decide if that was a good idea.”

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