Page 118 of The Christmas Fix
Cat opened her mouth, took a step toward him.
But Jayla was already bustling around the statue. “Let’s go, King! We need Noah for a one-on-one, and we need a couple of pictures of you and Drake in front of the tree.”
“Yeah, in a sec—”
“Cat!” Paige called. “We’ve got an issue.”
“Shit. Noah. Hold that thought.”
She left him there, next to his tree.
--------
Cat found a bubble, a pocket of quiet in the blazing, celebratory bustle of North Pole Park. It was nearing midnight, and the band was showing no signs of slowing down. Neither were the crowds. They should have thinned out hours ago, families heading home to wake early to celebrate Santa’s visit. But instead, they clung to Merry, moved by the holiday spirit.
Just a few more minutes.
Just one more hot chocolate.
Just one more dance.
They’d arrived in droves. Even more than she’d expected, and she’d set very high expectations. They’d seen the show, or they’d come to Merry as a child, or they were here every year. Thousands of families listening to Christmas carols, kids sitting on Santa’s lap, adults enjoying spiked hot chocolate while their sons and daughters raced through the holiday obstacle in Santa’s village course.
The snow that had started to fall during the official tree lighting was gently blanketing the park in white. The promise of a new day, a fresh start.
She’d done it. Exactly what she set out to do and so much more.
Cat stroked her hand over the bronze of the sculpture. It was smooth and cold to the touch, but oh so strong. It would stand for decades. Permanent and rooted in the community. It belonged here, standing for something. She felt the lump in her throat return.
Her family, all of them, was clustered around a park bench. Nonni was holding the sleeping Gabby wrapped in a plaid blanket. Gannon, his arm slung around Paige’s waist, gazed into his wife’s eyes as they swayed to the music, and Cat felt a punch to the gut at the unconditional, raw love she saw radiate from them. Her parents, just a step away, had their arms wrapped around each other like teenagers, looking on with something like satisfaction.
Sara and April, dashed past her, soft pretzels clutched in their gloved hands. A pack of their classmates giggled on their heels. Sara waved and blew Cat a kiss.
And there was Noah, hands in his pockets, watching her quietly from the other side of the tree. A yearning so intense it felt like it was cracking her heart open swept through her.
So,thiswas love. And wasn’t that ridiculous to finally know itnow?
When had it all changed? When had her goals shifted from big and sweeping, from spotlights and followers, to this? Tight circles. Intertwined roots. Family. Community.
He rounded the twists and tangles of metal, slow and steady—that was her Noah. Cat held her breath. She wanted to fold herself into his arms and press her face into his chest. But they needed to talk. There was so much to say.
“You did it,” Noah said, tilting his head toward the band and dancefloor still crowded with couples in winter coats and boots. People whirled around, blurs of color and laughter, in time to a particularly energetic version of “Jingle Bell Rock.”
A ghost of a smile played upon her lips. “I told you I would.”
“This is the part where you’re supposed to rub my face in the fact that I ever doubted you,” he said, nudging her boot with his.
Cat crossed her arms over her chest so she wouldn’t climb into his arms. “Oh, I prefer to let the results speak for themselves. It makes the disbelievers feel like bigger assholes.”
He smiled, warm and sweet, and Cat melted to her toes.
“You told me you were a miracle worker, and I didn’t believe you. Not even after you saved my life.” Noah’s hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her in.
Cat glanced around. “There’s an audience,” she whispered.
“I’m okay with that. Besides there’s something I need to tell you, and I want to make sure you hear me.”
Cat bit her lip, her pulse thrumming in her throat. “Noah, I need to tell you—”
