Page 26 of Her Mountain Christmas
“Oh, and he’s humble, too. Look at that.”
Jack laughs and takes my hand. His fingers thread through mine, big and warm, as we weave through the market stalls. The scent of roasted chestnuts and pine hangs thick in the air, mixingwith the sharp bite of winter. I press closer to Jack’s side, my shoulder brushing his arm, and he squeezes my hand.
A stall draped in handwoven scarves catches his eye. He stops, pulling me with him, his free hand already reaching out to finger the soft wool.
“This one,” he says quietly, lifting a pale blue scarf shot through with white threads. “It’s the exact shade of your beautiful eyes.” He pulls it down and pays the seller with a quick tap of his credit card. It’s such a simple, sweet gift, but it means more than any of the expensive things I’ve ever received. Because it’s from him. Because it reminds him of me. Because he wants to.
I bite my lip as he drapes it around my neck, his knuckles grazing my collarbone. The wool is impossibly soft, but not half as soft as the way he’s looking at me.
“Jack,” I breathe, but he just tucks the ends in, adjusting it like he’s dressing me for the cold, like it’s his job to keep me warm.
“Perfect,” he says in that low, possessive voice that makes my stomach turn over on itself.
We move on, and I spot a stall selling hand-blown glass ornaments, each one unique. I tug Jack forward to check out the display, and I see the one I want almost immediately. My fingers hover over a delicate snowflake, its edges catching the light, fractals of silver and blue swirling together like the storm that brought me to him.
“I want to get this for you,” I say, turning to him. “For your tree.”
“Our tree,” he says with a grin, and I’m smiling too as I quickly pay for the ornament, using my own credit card.
Jack’s throat works as he takes it from me, turning it over in his big hands. His eyes are bright when they meet mine. “To remember the night I found you.”
I nod. “The night it all started.”
His voice is rough when he says, “I love it, sweetheart.”
And then he’s kissing me, right there in the middle of the street, his gloved hands cupping my face like I’m something precious. The scarf flutters between us, the snowflake ornament clutched tight in his grip. I hear the murmur of voices around us, feel the weight of curious glances, but for the first time in my life, I don’t care.
I’m not performing.
I’m not being judged.
I’m just loved, exactly as I am.
When we break apart, my cheeks are warm despite the cold, my lips tingling.
The scent of cinnamon and sugar pulls us toward a bakery stall, where trays of gingerbread cookies, peppermint bark, and buttery shortbread are stacked high. Jack’s hand lingers on my lower back as he leans in, his breath tickling my ear.
“What do you want, sweetheart?”
You, I think, but I just point to a bag of assorted treats and a steaming cup of apple cider. Jack orders two, pressing a kiss to my temple before paying.
We’re barely two sips in when a deep voice booms behind us.
“Guess he didn’t get buried in the storm after all.”
Jack turns, grinning, and I find myself facing three men—two with strollers, one with his arm slung around a very pregnant woman—and two other women, all bundled in coats and scarves, their faces bright with smiles.
“Ford, Beau, Logan,” Jack says, clapping hands with each of them in turn. “And their better halves—Sophia, Hailey, and Kaylee.” His palm finds my back again, grounding me. “This is my girlfriend, Ella.”
Sophia, the pregnant one, steps forward first, her dark eyes warm. “Finally, someone brave enough to put up with this grump.” She nudges Jack with her elbow, but her smile is fond.
Hailey, petite with auburn curls peeking out from under her toque, grins. “Ignore her. He’s a teddy bear.”
Kaylee, slender and effortlessly cool in a chic wool coat open over a chunky sweater, winks. “A very big teddy bear.”
I laugh, relaxing as the women pull me into easy conversation like I’ve known them forever. The men start talking shop, something about the storm damage and road closures, but I barely notice, too busy listening to Sophia gush about the bakery’s famous eggnog cookies.
“You two are adorable,” Hailey says, nudging my shoulder. “How long have you been together?”
