Page 35 of Tinsel & Tools
15
Cole
I parked behind Murphy’s Hardware and walked toward the square. People were all around, enjoying the festivities while the tree stood dark, waiting for the countdown.
Mom and Dad had claimed a spot close to the front, with Lauren and Mark beside them. The kids were lined up on the temporary bleachers set up beside the gazebo, Santa hats slipping sideways as they jostled each other. Eliza was in the middle, and Pete’s two were in the row behind her.
“Uncle Cole,” Eliza called out when she spotted me, and waved.
“Sing loud,” I mouthed with a grin, and she nodded excitedly.
Lauren leaned closer. “She’s been bouncing since breakfast. She’ll never fall asleep after all this sugar.”
“She’ll crash eventually,” I replied.
Pete came up behind me with his wife Cindy, both bundled in coats and scarves. “Cindy’s been reminding the twins all week not to pick their noses on stage. So far, so good.”
“It’s early.” I chuckled and glanced over to see Gavin standing by More than Blooms, hands shoved in his pockets, looking like he wasn’t sure if he should stay. Before I thought about it too long, I started his way.
As I got closer, a pack of kids tore through the crowd, laughing and tossing snow. When Gavin stepped back to avoid them, his heel slid on the ice. I caught his arm before he crashed into the couple behind him.
“Careful,” I told him.
His eyes flicked up. “Thanks. Guess I need boots or something with more traction.”
“That would help.” I let go of his arm. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Figured I’d come see what the big deal was.” His mouth tugged in the corner.
We turned when the choir started behind us, the kids’ voices carrying over the crowd. Eliza sang with her whole body as her Santa hat slid off again. Behind her, Pete’s boys stood, one singing every lyric, while the other was about to do what Cindy had told them not to until his brother elbowed him.
“That’s my niece and cousins,” I told Gavin, nodding toward the stage and pointing at them.
“They’re adorable.” He smiled.
“They’re a handful,” I countered.
“I’ve heard children are.”
When the kids finished, the mayor stepped up to the microphone and gave a speech before starting the countdown.
After the count of one, the tree blazed to life, branches strung with hundreds of lights, the square glowing gold and white. The crowd cheered, and when I looked at Gavin, his gaze was fixed on the tree, but then it shifted to me, and we smiled.
My stomach did that weird flutter thing, and I cleared my throat. “You want to walk the booths?”
“Yeah,” he answered.
We moved together through the line of tents. Mrs. Katz handed me a cookie without asking. “For you and your friend,” she said.
“This is Gavin Price. He owns Cedar Falls Inn,” I advised her, hoping that explained why we were walking together, and took a bite of the white chocolate and cranberry cookie.
Her face brightened. “Well then, welcome to Brookhaven. I can’t wait until you’re up and running again. More guests in town means more coffee and pastries out my door.”
“I’ll do my best not to disappoint,” Gavin answered.
Before I could steer us on, her sister leaned over from the Maple & Mug booth with two steaming cups. “Peppermint mochas. Your favorite.”
It wasn’t, but I agreed whenever she said so because that was the polite thing to do.
