Chapter One
She’s stopped believing in Santa Claus by the age of seven, but Maisie Smart would absolutely never be too old for the magic of Christmas. If, however, she one day suffered a crisis of holiday spirit, she’d just get herself back to the adorably festive town she was currently driving through. Merry, Washington, just a couple of hours outside of her hometown of Seattle, was what every kid—and she—imagined the North Pole to be. Complete with elves.
A line of little kids, one behind the other, wearing candy cane–striped pinnies over their winter jackets and warm hats, waited at a crosswalk. The main street was lined with adorable storefronts showcasing elaborate holiday displays in every window. Maisie’s stomach growled at the same time a parking spot opened up, coincidentally, in front of a store called Karma. Conveniently, the store to the right of that one promised the best hot chocolate and cookies in Washington.
Cutting the ignition, she grabbed her purse then braced herself against the door, lifted the handle, and shoved. It got a little sticky in the cold weather but Junie, short for Juniper, wasn’t just her Jeep; it was her baby. She’d bought it, secondhand, with the first big check she’d received for her photography work on a film set.
It wasn’t until she closed the Jeep door that the holiday music registered. She didn’t see any speakers, which just made it more magical. Each of the dark lampposts boasted seasonal decorations that would light up when the sun went down. Bell, sleigh, mistletoe, candy cane, angel, repeat, as far as she could see down both sides of the street.
One week until Christmas and Maisie felt like those little kids waving at her as they marched by: full of hope and ready for the magic of the season.
She was spending Christmas with her family for the first time in several years. They were staying at an actual tree farm, and she’d just—like on her way out of town—signed a contract to be the artist in residence at the University of Washington from January to April with a possible extension. It was huge. Six months ago, she wasn’t even sure if she should or would apply. Despite being raised in a home that valued education above all else, it wasn’t Maisie’s strong suit, something she’d never been able to explain to her mom. Now, she was going to be sort-of staff at an accredited school.
Nerves simmered in her stomach the way they did whenever she thought about this new path. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, removed one glove with her teeth, and typed out a text to her bestie.
Maisie
This town is utterly adorable. I’m so excited.
Lexi
I looked it up online. Apparently in the summer, it’s “udderly” adorable thanks to the cow pageant. Send pictures.
Maisie sent a bunch of happy face and Christmas tree emojis then took a quick video. Her best friend, Lexi, was probably blissfully cocooned in her fiancé’s arms. A little pang poked her in the ribs. Longing. It was no secret that the holidays were sweeter when shared.
The phone rang almost immediately, Lexi’s face lit up the screen, and her friend started speaking before Maisie even had her phone all the way to her ear.
“Are you sure this place isn’t actually the North Pole? Have you seen Santa? Did you sit on his lap?”
Maisie laughed loud enough to draw a few curious stares. “There’ll be no lap sitting, thank you very much. I’m done believing wishes come true when you whisper what you want in a man’s ear.”
“One of these days you’re going to tell me who turned you against relationships. For yourself. Because you were all the way onboard for me being in one,” Lexi said.
An image of Nicholas King, well over six feet, dirty blond hair just a little long so it fell in his eyes, and the kind of muscles that made coherent words fall out of her brain, popped into her mind unbidden. Unwanted. Kind of like she’d felt when she woke up alone in a hotel room after the best night of her life.
“We were talking about sitting on Santa. Specifically, his lap. Which, when you really take a moment to dissect the tradition, is kind of creepy. ‘Here, strange man. Let my child sit on you.’”
Lexi’s laughter was soft and comforting. Maisie got the pleasure of hearing it a lot more often now that her friend had given herself over to falling in love. The real kind that lasted forever and maybe longer. The kind that eluded Maisie.
“Way to deflect and redirect. If photography doesn’t work out, you could always try being a lawyer.”
Wouldn’t that make her parents happy. “No thanks. Jacob already has that covered.” Her older brother was one of the most respected entertainment lawyers on the East Coast. Both her siblings had excelled in school and in life. They, unlike Maisie, were proud recipients of many scholarships, degrees, and educational accolades. On top of that, they were both settled in loving and committed relationships.
“You okay?” Lexi asked.
Maisie nodded, even though her friend couldn’t see her. “I’m great. I’m in Santa’s village, about to have hot chocolate and cookies before going to a tree farm chalet to spend a week reconnecting with my family. I’m going to go sledding, cut down a tree, and do every Christmasy thing this town has to offer.”
Her parents might not be into all of the activities, but she was fairly certain she could convince the rest of her family to take part. Growing up, Maisie had sometimes felt a bit like an outcast in her own family, so doing things she enjoyed on her own wasn’t new territory. The dreamer in a house of hardcore academics.
“You’re going to have a great time,” Lexi said. “Oh, Will just got home. Send me videos of the tree farm or FaceTime me later.”
“I will.” Maisie hung up, wondering, not for the first time, if she should have confided in her bestie rather than keeping her feelings wrapped tighter than a present.
But she didn’t want to be a rain cloud on Lexi’s rainbow. She and her fiancé, Will, had only just found each other. Maisie didn’t need to dish about a man who’d ghosted her. Even if the very detailed memory of him still haunted her six months later. It’s just the holidays. They make people more hopeful and nostalgic. Maisie was all about looking forward. Starting now.
After grabbing a box of holiday treats at the adorably decorated bakery Bits and Bites, Maisie jumped back in her Jeep and headed toward the tree farm. As the bustling core of the tiny town gave way to quieter roads and wide-open parcels of land, Maisie’s fingers itched for her camera. Snow spread out like blankets at the foot of the mountains, untouched and sparkling. It sent that familiar tingle through Maisie’s veins. Her parents never understood her love of photography. They’d thought it was a hobby, something she’d outgrow.
But every time she got that feeling, the one that made her want to see life through a viewfinder and capture it, she knew she’d made the right choice. She’d done some fashion photography in her early days and worked on multiple sets in Hollywood before striking out on her own. Now, Maisie’s business was steady, satisfying, and local to the Seattle area. She wasn’t rich. But she was happy. Her parents, Mom in particular, didn’t know why she couldn’t be both of those things and have a couple prestigious letters behind her name.
Recognition in her world didn’t necessarily come from schooling though. Maisie was still deciding whether or not she wanted to throw her name into the ring at a small Seattle gallery that had put out an open call to artists. One thing at a time. Pushing herself to be brave by applying to the university had unleashed her desire to prove to her parents that education wasn’t the only path to success. But she didn’t want to do something just for that reason. She loved her work. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the kind of vulnerability that showcased her work to a large, opinionated audience.
Her thoughts scattered like brilliant fireworks when she saw the sign for Tickle Tree Farms. Giddiness invaded her body and she couldn’t stop herself from doing a little bounce in her driver’s seat. The long gravel driveway was lined on both sides with a wooden fence wrapped in strands of the big-bulbed lights Maisie loved. The rainbow of colors danced softly in the late afternoon light. Tall, thick trees dotted the fence lines and were also decorated with lights, but these ones were smaller and white. It was magical and she couldn’t wait to see it in the dark.
At the end of the lane, there was the cutest Alice in Wonderland–type sign pointing to the different areas of the massive grounds. She stopped the Jeep and snapped a photo with her phone to send to Lexi. In cute, curly lettering, an arrow pointing up read: NORTH POLE. An arrow to the right, printed in a different cutesy font, said U-CHOP and below that, another arrow to the right said PRE-CUT. Two arrows pointed to the left; one read BARN and the other read MAIN HOUSE.
Maisie put her phone down and took a left. A gorgeous two-story, pale-green farmhouse with a wraparound porch and dormer windows came into view. As if that wasn’t picture-perfect enough, there was a little boy dressed in winter gear, running back and forth over a short stretch of the front yard. She was already smiling when she put the Jeep in park and got out with just her shoulder bag, but when she saw what the little guy was doing, she laughed.
He bent, made a snowball, threw it, then ran forward to where it landed, made another snowball, and threw it back. He saw her and gave her a big grin and a wave.
“I’m having a snowball fight with myself,” he said, huffing with his exertion, his boots dragging more than lifting.
“Who’s winning?” Maisie asked as the bright-yellow front door to the house opened.
A tall woman with long, flowing blond waves spilling out of her knit cap, holding a travel mug and wearing a long plaid jacket and an enviable pair of black boots, waved at Maisie.
“You’re Maisie! Colton’s been texting me pictures of everyone,” she said, coming down the few steps off the porch. “I’m Ellie.”
“I am. I’m so happy to meet you and to be spending the holidays here. I love it already.”
Excitement bubbled up with the other woman’s happy greeting. Even more when she leaned in for a hug. “Sorry, I feel like I already know you.” Ellie stepped back from the hug, looked over at her son. “Asher, come meet Uncle Colt’s sister-in-law.”
The little boy, who looked about four or five, came over with one snowball in hand. Tipping his head back, Maisie saw that he had eyes the same color as his mom’s, which, for some reason, felt familiar. Maybe the warmth in them. His hair was light brown and sticking to his forehead. Ellie swiped a hand across it with a laugh.
“Are you a police officer?” Asher asked.
Maisie laughed. “No, why?”
“You’re in law.” Asher shrugged as if that explained it all.
Both Ellie and Maisie laughed but Ellie crouched down. “No, sweet pea. ‘In law’ means that Uncle Colt is married to Maisie’s brother, Jacob. We’ve talked to him on FaceTime.”
Asher nodded, looked back at Maisie. “My mom’s not married to my dad anymore.”
Ellie groaned and stood up, giving Maisie a sheepish grin. “Don’t tell him any secrets if you don’t want everyone to know.”
Maisie bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“Want to have a snowball fight?” Asher asked both women.
“I think our guest might like to get settled, mister. Which means we should help her with her bags, don’t you think?”
It tugged at Maisie’s heartstrings when his little smile slipped. She gestured to her Jeep. “I can handle my bags but maybe you could carry the Christmas cookies I brought?”
Just like that, his eyes widened, the grin returned, and he went running to the Jeep.
Ellie nodded, brows raised. “Well done. Excellent diversion. Do you work with kids?”
They walked toward her vehicle. “I’m a photographer. So sometimes. Speaking of, this place is breathtakingly gorgeous. I’m definitely going to have to take some shots.”
While Asher took the cookies inside, promising not to have one until they were all inside and settled, Maisie unloaded the back of her Jeep, taking her small suitcase and camera bag. Ellie carried the closed box of presents Maisie still needed to wrap.
“I bought this place in the spring. This is my first official season of tree selling. I’d love to get some updated photos for the website,” Ellie said as they made their way up the steps. She stopped at the open door. “I’d pay you, of course.”
Those tingles worked their way along her skin. “No way. The chance to photograph this place? You, your adorable kid, and all the Christmas goodness? Consider it a gift and a thank-you for letting us stay.”
Maisie heard Ellie’s protests but her attention immediately shifted as they stepped into the high-ceilinged entryway. The scent of fresh pine welcomed them into the house. A tree not much taller than Maisie was decorated with what looked like homemade ornaments.
The mat she wiped her feet on read: Santa stop here. Maisie shook her head, met her host’s gaze. “Stop saying you’ll pay. You’re letting me and my whole family stay. I’m taking photos. I can’t wait.”
Ellie laughed. “Colton is basically family to me and my brother so it’s hardly an imposition to have you with us over Christmas. Plus, I’m looking forward to having a full house.”
Maisie slipped off her boots. “Well, Colton is my family and if he’s yours too, it means we’re family. Which means, photos are on me.”
Asher came running back into the room, his boots squelching. Ellie winced. “Ash. You’re supposed to take your boots off.”
His shoulders drooped. “But I’m going back out after cookies.”
“Boots,” Ellie said.
Once again, Maisie bit her lip. Oh yeah. She was all about looking forward; to this week, this Christmas, the activities, the people, and the moments she’d capture with her camera. This was going to be the best Christmas ever.
Chapter Two
NICHOLAS KING SCANNED THE narrow two-lane street for a parking spot but there was no way his behemoth of a truck was going to fit between any of the narrowly painted white lines. When his sister, Ellie, had said small town, he hadn’t considered that she meant one right out of a Hallmark movie. Taking a right at the four-way, he eased in against the curb behind another vehicle.
Once he cut the engine, Nick closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths. He’d left late and traffic had sucked, but he was here. Almost. He just needed to grab some cookies for his nephew, Asher. Getting out of the truck tweaked his knee. Swearing under his breath, he pushed away the irritation he felt over not being in the shape he should be. Everyday activities shouldn’t fucking hurt.
Even the side street looked like it was part of a Christmas movie. Wreaths hung on every door, lights and holiday displays adorned the windows, and the parking meters had reindeer antlers. The ones on the meter he fed were falling over so he had to move them to get his coins in.
When he turned the corner onto Main Street, a classic Bing Crosby tune played from hidden speakers. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, casting a gentle, yellowish glow over snowcapped mountains in the distance. Ellie would probably complain about Nick showing up with treats, but that was an uncle’s right and Nick hadn’t seen the kid, other than on FaceTime, for too long.
Lately, he’d been missing Asher and Ellie a lot more than usual. Nick moved around people on the sidewalk, his shoulders tensing as they glanced his way for more than a few seconds. When he received no more than a “Merry Christmas,” he relaxed, his breath coming more freely.
You’re not in your hometown or at a hockey arena. Get over yourself. The only guy most of these people are excited to see is Santa.
Though he wasn’t feeling like the merriest version of himself, the thought made him laugh. It’d been a while for that, as well.
* * *
AFTER GRABBING SOME COOKIES at a place that could only be described as a bakery run by Santa’s elves, Nick made the rest of the journey to his sister’s place. He might not be Buddy the Elf but Nick was excited to wake up on Christmas morning with his family. The closer he got to Ellie’s new house, the more positive he felt. He hated that he’d been injured but he needed this break. More than he wanted to admit.
Playing professionally took laser focus and dedication. He’d never wavered; not from wanting it and not from working for it. It often left him no time for anything else. Now, the stark realization that nothing lasted forever was reminding him of all the other things he’d pushed to the wayside in his life.
This latest injury, on top of his media mishap a few months earlier, piled on top of losing his estranged mother and finding out his sister was getting a divorce, had thrown Nick mentally, physically, and emotionally. Despite seeing a therapist, putting his all into rehab, and trying to find something resembling Zen, pulling out of this slump was proving harder than he’d ever imagined.
By the time he turned into the long drive, the sun had dipped in between the mountaintops, looking more like a painting than reality. He’d FaceTimed with them to see the property, the business, and the house, but seeing it in person was better. It was incredible. A wide timber sign sat behind one of the fences wrapped with holiday lights. It read TICKLE TREE FARMS and boasted twenty-six acres of beautiful space that offered U-pick or ready-to-go trees. The lot was closed for the evening but would be open right up to Christmas Eve.
When Ellie told him about the place, he’d been distractedly excited for her. But when she told him about her divorce six months ago, and her plans to move forward, he was concerned about her taking on so much on her own. He just wanted her to be okay and he felt like if he’d been paying more attention to something besides himself and his career, his sister wouldn’t have had to face so much alone. Misplaced guilt, his therapist would say. At least he was learning something.
He took a left at the end of the drive, a small smile lifting his lips. There were lights everywhere. The two-story farmhouse came into view and a sense of peace, something he recognized because it happened so infrequently lately, washed over him. He couldn’t see the neighbors to the left but he knew they weren’t too far away. The place wasn’t isolated, just private. A private wonderland that was perfect for Ellie and Asher.
His sister’s Cherokee was parked in the driveway, blocked in by an aging and ugly red Jeep, a rental sedan, and a minivan. His smile grew, knowing he’d give their old friend, Colton Bell, a hard time if the minivan was his. It’d been way too long since he’d seen Colton. He hadn’t even met his husband, Jacob. Between their careers, life, and physical distance, not to mention Nick traveling all the time, he hadn’t really seen anyone.
Maybe that was something to consider for the pro side of the list taking up too much space in his brain. He got out of the truck, grabbed his bags and the cookies, and hadn’t taken two full steps toward the house when his nephew came barreling out the door in bright-green pajamas and snow boots.
“Uncle Nick!”
Nick’s heart lodged in his throat, emotion pummeling him, as his four-year-old nephew flew across the porch, practically diving down the stairs. He dropped his bags, balanced the cookie box precariously, and winced as he bent low to scoop him up with his free arm.
Closing his eyes, there was no need to force a smile this time. “Hey, kid. Nice jammies.”
Little arms curled around his neck. “I missed you, Uncle Nick.”
When he opened his eyes, he saw his sister standing in the doorway, a smile on her pretty face. Her long blond waves cascaded around her shoulders. Nick’s heart squeezed painfully. These two people were everything to him.
“I missed you too,” he said. Setting him down, he picked up his bags and nudged Asher. “It’s cold out here. Let’s go in.”
And then, Asher proceeded to fill him in on every single moment in one run-on sentence. While the kid rambled, Nick went up the steps, dropped his bags again, and pulled his sister into a tight hug.
“Hey,” he said. The tension in his shoulders, his spine, and his chest loosened just from seeing, for himself, that they were good. They’d landed on their feet.
“Hey, yourself. Nice truck.”
He pulled back, Asher still giving him the scoop on every single thing, and smiled. “I like it. Figured if I was driving up here, I might as well be comfortable.”
“You look tired,” Ellie said, stepping away to pull her long sweater tight around her.
“Long drive,” he said. Asher was still rambling. Nick only caught every third or fourth word, the kid was talking so fast.
Her brows rose. “Uh-huh.” She knew him too well.
They moved into the foyer of the house and shut the door. He glanced around, taking in the high ceilings, gleaming wood floors, and little touches of Christmas. Mini twinkle lights and sprigs of greenery wove in and out of short, fat candles on a dark-stained wood entrance table.
He eyed the small tree with a grin. “How many trees do you have up and decorated?”
Ellie lifted her chin. “A few. One isn’t decorated yet.”
Nick laughed. Their mom would never let them get real trees because she didn’t want “something else to take care of.” Ironic, since Nick had been the one who cared for Ellie.
Asher tugged Nick’s free hand. “You should see my room, Uncle Nick. I hung up all my posters.”
Nick’s lips twitched as he met his sister’s gaze. “See, he’s handling the transition well.”
“What doesn’t he handle well?” Ellie asked.
“Are those my cookies?” Asher asked, eyeing the box without brushing back the strands of light-brown hair that fell a little long over his forehead.
“Asher,” Ellie said in that low, slightly drawn-out mom tone that still amused Nick. He didn’t know where she had learned it because their mother hadn’t ever spoken to them with that sort of gentle firmness. If she had bothered with them at all, it was to harp on Ellie for every little thing or to pressure Nick into working harder. As if that was possible.
“Of course they are,” Nick said, holding the box out, slipping his boots off and then his jacket.
Asher took the box and went running down the hall, yelling, “More cookies!”
More? When Nick hung his coat and put his boots away in one of the multiple closets along the wall, he moved to pick up his bags but Ellie stepped in front of him.
“I’ve missed you, Nicky.”
He rolled his eyes. She was the only one who got away with that shit. “Jesus, you’re still such a brat.”
She laughed and gave him another tight hug. “It’s a little sister rule. It’ll never change.”
Unsure if it was her or her house that smelled like cinnamon, he hugged her back. “You doing okay?”
She pulled away, looked up at him with blue eyes much like his own, only hers were a little brighter. “I’m good.”
Nick picked up his duffels. “He call? Contact you?”
Ellie shook her head.
“Asshole.”
His sister laughed. “You’re not wrong. But I just want to focus on Christmas and all the good things.”
He started to tease her about being such a Pollyanna but, in truth, he envied her ability to always look on the bright side. Her ex had not only cheated on her but elevated the level of his assholery by telling her it was her fault. It was best Nick not ever be in the same room with him again.
And to focus his thoughts elsewhere: “Where is Colt?”
She led him down the hallway. “Walking the grounds. He and his hubby arrived right after Jacob’s younger sister showed up, with cookies, and right before his other sister and her husband arrived. She’s pregnant. The older one. None of them have seen each other in a while so they’re all pretty excited and ready to celebrate. Jacob’s parents won’t be here until tomorrow though.”
Nick raised his brows at his sister sounding a lot like Asher with her details. Her enthusiasm for entertaining was something he’d never shared, but it felt damn good to be here and know he was going to be part of a family holiday.
They stopped in the kitchen where Asher was lugging a jug of milk out of the fridge. He already had a cookie on a plate.
He looked at them with a proud smile, hair still falling in his eyes. “I got it, Mom.”
“One cookie, Ash.”
His little bottom lip slipped between his teeth and Nick wanted to grab the jug for him, pour his damn milk, but he kind of loved the way his sister just let him try, let him be independent.
“When the Smarties get back, can we watch a Christmas movie?” Asher asked, taking a wobbly step onto his stool before letting the jug hit the counter.
“You could buy a smaller jug of milk,” Nick whispered, his lips twitching into a smile. Determination ran in the family.
“He’s got it,” Ellie said as Asher turned the lid, balancing it against the glass edge.
“I got it, Uncle Nick. I’m strong like you.”
Another squeeze in his chest. His heart was likely to get the bigger workout than the rest of him this week. “Yeah, you are, bud.”
“See?” Asher beamed.
The pride on Asher’s face when he successfully poured his milk reminded Nick that it had been a long time since he’d celebrated a small triumph. It also made him realize Asher was getting big so fast; he didn’t want to miss it all.
“Good job, bud. Make sure you put it away. I’m going to take Uncle Nick up to his room.”
Nick followed his sister up the stairs that led off the kitchen. “So, Colt, his husband, an older sister, and his husband’s parents?”
On the wide-open wood-planked landing, Ellie stopped again. The glow of the moon was coming through the skylight. “Plus Jacob and Natalie’s—that’s the older one—younger sister. She’s adorable and sweet. She offered to update my website and take new photos.”
Probably for a price. Just because they were Colt’s family didn’t mean they couldn’t take advantage of his sister.
“She qualified for that?”
Ellie shook her head, walked to one of the doors on the right, and opened it. “You’re such a cynic.”
Moving past her, he walked into the room and threw his bags on the king-size bed covered in a Grinch comforter. He turned and faced her, hands on his hips.
“Nice bedding, brat. Also, I’m a realist, El. And you didn’t answer the question.”
He’d missed the signs her ex-husband was taking advantage of not only her but Nick’s name. He wouldn’t do that again.
“She’s Colton’s sister-in-law, Nick. She looks and acts like a badass Disney princess and we’ve already bonded over idiot exes and snickerdoodles, so we’re basically best friends.”
She turned and walked out of the room.
He followed. “And look at that; you still haven’t answered my question.”
She groaned, looked back over her shoulder. “I missed you, but not your protective older brother foolishness.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not foolishness. It’s called wisdom.”
His sister snort laughed and it reminded him of when he used to make her laugh so hard she couldn’t breathe.
Ellie covered her mouth, then composed herself. “Let your guard down, Nicky. She’s a professional photographer. You’ll love Maisie. I guarantee it.”
Nick stopped like he hit a brick wall. When the Smarties get back … Smart. Photographer. Maisie Smart. Holy shit.
His lungs constricted and images flashed through his head like a movie on fast-forward.
Rich, brown eyes that saw right through a man. Hair softer than silk. A smile that haunted his dreams even months after. Laughter that rang in his head. A touch that made him ache. The way she’d moved against him and the scent of her shampoo. Her fingers on his skin, his hands all over her, her legs wrapped around him, her mouth on his, kissing her, touching her, learning her, and falling so hard he’d have been content to stay forever. But he’d had to leave. And force himself, almost daily, not to look back.
“Nick?”
He looked at his sister, his pulse beating like a drum in his ears.
“You okay?”
No. He was screwed.
YOU MAKE IT FEEL LIKE CHRISTMAS. Copyright © You Make It Feel Like Christmas by Sophie Sullivan (Excerpt)
Chapter One
She’s stopped believing in Santa Claus by the age of seven, but Maisie Smart would absolutely never be too old for the magic of Christmas. If, however, she one day suffered a crisis of holiday spirit, she’d just get herself back to the adorably festive town she was currently driving through. Merry, Washington, just a couple of hours outside of her hometown of Seattle, was what every kid—and she—imagined the North Pole to be. Complete with elves.
A line of little kids, one behind the other, wearing candy cane–striped pinnies over their winter jackets and warm hats, waited at a crosswalk. The main street was lined with adorable storefronts showcasing elaborate holiday displays in every window. Maisie’s stomach growled at the same time a parking spot opened up, coincidentally, in front of a store called Karma. Conveniently, the store to the right of that one promised the best hot chocolate and cookies in Washington.
Cutting the ignition, she grabbed her purse then braced herself against the door, lifted the handle, and shoved. It got a little sticky in the cold weather but Junie, short for Juniper, wasn’t just her Jeep; it was her baby. She’d bought it, secondhand, with the first big check she’d received for her photography work on a film set.
It wasn’t until she closed the Jeep door that the holiday music registered. She didn’t see any speakers, which just made it more magical. Each of the dark lampposts boasted seasonal decorations that would light up when the sun went down. Bell, sleigh, mistletoe, candy cane, angel, repeat, as far as she could see down both sides of the street.
One week until Christmas and Maisie felt like those little kids waving at her as they marched by: full of hope and ready for the magic of the season.
She was spending Christmas with her family for the first time in several years. They were staying at an actual tree farm, and she’d just—like on her way out of town—signed a contract to be the artist in residence at the University of Washington from January to April with a possible extension. It was huge. Six months ago, she wasn’t even sure if she should or would apply. Despite being raised in a home that valued education above all else, it wasn’t Maisie’s strong suit, something she’d never been able to explain to her mom. Now, she was going to be sort-of staff at an accredited school.
Nerves simmered in her stomach the way they did whenever she thought about this new path. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, removed one glove with her teeth, and typed out a text to her bestie.
Maisie
This town is utterly adorable. I’m so excited.
Lexi
I looked it up online. Apparently in the summer, it’s “udderly” adorable thanks to the cow pageant. Send pictures.
Maisie sent a bunch of happy face and Christmas tree emojis then took a quick video. Her best friend, Lexi, was probably blissfully cocooned in her fiancé’s arms. A little pang poked her in the ribs. Longing. It was no secret that the holidays were sweeter when shared.
The phone rang almost immediately, Lexi’s face lit up the screen, and her friend started speaking before Maisie even had her phone all the way to her ear.
“Are you sure this place isn’t actually the North Pole? Have you seen Santa? Did you sit on his lap?”
Maisie laughed loud enough to draw a few curious stares. “There’ll be no lap sitting, thank you very much. I’m done believing wishes come true when you whisper what you want in a man’s ear.”
“One of these days you’re going to tell me who turned you against relationships. For yourself. Because you were all the way onboard for me being in one,” Lexi said.
An image of Nicholas King, well over six feet, dirty blond hair just a little long so it fell in his eyes, and the kind of muscles that made coherent words fall out of her brain, popped into her mind unbidden. Unwanted. Kind of like she’d felt when she woke up alone in a hotel room after the best night of her life.
“We were talking about sitting on Santa. Specifically, his lap. Which, when you really take a moment to dissect the tradition, is kind of creepy. ‘Here, strange man. Let my child sit on you.’”
Lexi’s laughter was soft and comforting. Maisie got the pleasure of hearing it a lot more often now that her friend had given herself over to falling in love. The real kind that lasted forever and maybe longer. The kind that eluded Maisie.
“Way to deflect and redirect. If photography doesn’t work out, you could always try being a lawyer.”
Wouldn’t that make her parents happy. “No thanks. Jacob already has that covered.” Her older brother was one of the most respected entertainment lawyers on the East Coast. Both her siblings had excelled in school and in life. They, unlike Maisie, were proud recipients of many scholarships, degrees, and educational accolades. On top of that, they were both settled in loving and committed relationships.
“You okay?” Lexi asked.
Maisie nodded, even though her friend couldn’t see her. “I’m great. I’m in Santa’s village, about to have hot chocolate and cookies before going to a tree farm chalet to spend a week reconnecting with my family. I’m going to go sledding, cut down a tree, and do every Christmasy thing this town has to offer.”
Her parents might not be into all of the activities, but she was fairly certain she could convince the rest of her family to take part. Growing up, Maisie had sometimes felt a bit like an outcast in her own family, so doing things she enjoyed on her own wasn’t new territory. The dreamer in a house of hardcore academics.
“You’re going to have a great time,” Lexi said. “Oh, Will just got home. Send me videos of the tree farm or FaceTime me later.”
“I will.” Maisie hung up, wondering, not for the first time, if she should have confided in her bestie rather than keeping her feelings wrapped tighter than a present.
But she didn’t want to be a rain cloud on Lexi’s rainbow. She and her fiancé, Will, had only just found each other. Maisie didn’t need to dish about a man who’d ghosted her. Even if the very detailed memory of him still haunted her six months later. It’s just the holidays. They make people more hopeful and nostalgic. Maisie was all about looking forward. Starting now.
After grabbing a box of holiday treats at the adorably decorated bakery Bits and Bites, Maisie jumped back in her Jeep and headed toward the tree farm. As the bustling core of the tiny town gave way to quieter roads and wide-open parcels of land, Maisie’s fingers itched for her camera. Snow spread out like blankets at the foot of the mountains, untouched and sparkling. It sent that familiar tingle through Maisie’s veins. Her parents never understood her love of photography. They’d thought it was a hobby, something she’d outgrow.
But every time she got that feeling, the one that made her want to see life through a viewfinder and capture it, she knew she’d made the right choice. She’d done some fashion photography in her early days and worked on multiple sets in Hollywood before striking out on her own. Now, Maisie’s business was steady, satisfying, and local to the Seattle area. She wasn’t rich. But she was happy. Her parents, Mom in particular, didn’t know why she couldn’t be both of those things and have a couple prestigious letters behind her name.
Recognition in her world didn’t necessarily come from schooling though. Maisie was still deciding whether or not she wanted to throw her name into the ring at a small Seattle gallery that had put out an open call to artists. One thing at a time. Pushing herself to be brave by applying to the university had unleashed her desire to prove to her parents that education wasn’t the only path to success. But she didn’t want to do something just for that reason. She loved her work. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the kind of vulnerability that showcased her work to a large, opinionated audience.
Her thoughts scattered like brilliant fireworks when she saw the sign for Tickle Tree Farms. Giddiness invaded her body and she couldn’t stop herself from doing a little bounce in her driver’s seat. The long gravel driveway was lined on both sides with a wooden fence wrapped in strands of the big-bulbed lights Maisie loved. The rainbow of colors danced softly in the late afternoon light. Tall, thick trees dotted the fence lines and were also decorated with lights, but these ones were smaller and white. It was magical and she couldn’t wait to see it in the dark.
At the end of the lane, there was the cutest Alice in Wonderland–type sign pointing to the different areas of the massive grounds. She stopped the Jeep and snapped a photo with her phone to send to Lexi. In cute, curly lettering, an arrow pointing up read: NORTH POLE. An arrow to the right, printed in a different cutesy font, said U-CHOP and below that, another arrow to the right said PRE-CUT. Two arrows pointed to the left; one read BARN and the other read MAIN HOUSE.
Maisie put her phone down and took a left. A gorgeous two-story, pale-green farmhouse with a wraparound porch and dormer windows came into view. As if that wasn’t picture-perfect enough, there was a little boy dressed in winter gear, running back and forth over a short stretch of the front yard. She was already smiling when she put the Jeep in park and got out with just her shoulder bag, but when she saw what the little guy was doing, she laughed.
He bent, made a snowball, threw it, then ran forward to where it landed, made another snowball, and threw it back. He saw her and gave her a big grin and a wave.
“I’m having a snowball fight with myself,” he said, huffing with his exertion, his boots dragging more than lifting.
“Who’s winning?” Maisie asked as the bright-yellow front door to the house opened.
A tall woman with long, flowing blond waves spilling out of her knit cap, holding a travel mug and wearing a long plaid jacket and an enviable pair of black boots, waved at Maisie.
“You’re Maisie! Colton’s been texting me pictures of everyone,” she said, coming down the few steps off the porch. “I’m Ellie.”
“I am. I’m so happy to meet you and to be spending the holidays here. I love it already.”
Excitement bubbled up with the other woman’s happy greeting. Even more when she leaned in for a hug. “Sorry, I feel like I already know you.” Ellie stepped back from the hug, looked over at her son. “Asher, come meet Uncle Colt’s sister-in-law.”
The little boy, who looked about four or five, came over with one snowball in hand. Tipping his head back, Maisie saw that he had eyes the same color as his mom’s, which, for some reason, felt familiar. Maybe the warmth in them. His hair was light brown and sticking to his forehead. Ellie swiped a hand across it with a laugh.
“Are you a police officer?” Asher asked.
Maisie laughed. “No, why?”
“You’re in law.” Asher shrugged as if that explained it all.
Both Ellie and Maisie laughed but Ellie crouched down. “No, sweet pea. ‘In law’ means that Uncle Colt is married to Maisie’s brother, Jacob. We’ve talked to him on FaceTime.”
Asher nodded, looked back at Maisie. “My mom’s not married to my dad anymore.”
Ellie groaned and stood up, giving Maisie a sheepish grin. “Don’t tell him any secrets if you don’t want everyone to know.”
Maisie bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“Want to have a snowball fight?” Asher asked both women.
“I think our guest might like to get settled, mister. Which means we should help her with her bags, don’t you think?”
It tugged at Maisie’s heartstrings when his little smile slipped. She gestured to her Jeep. “I can handle my bags but maybe you could carry the Christmas cookies I brought?”
Just like that, his eyes widened, the grin returned, and he went running to the Jeep.
Ellie nodded, brows raised. “Well done. Excellent diversion. Do you work with kids?”
They walked toward her vehicle. “I’m a photographer. So sometimes. Speaking of, this place is breathtakingly gorgeous. I’m definitely going to have to take some shots.”
While Asher took the cookies inside, promising not to have one until they were all inside and settled, Maisie unloaded the back of her Jeep, taking her small suitcase and camera bag. Ellie carried the closed box of presents Maisie still needed to wrap.
“I bought this place in the spring. This is my first official season of tree selling. I’d love to get some updated photos for the website,” Ellie said as they made their way up the steps. She stopped at the open door. “I’d pay you, of course.”
Those tingles worked their way along her skin. “No way. The chance to photograph this place? You, your adorable kid, and all the Christmas goodness? Consider it a gift and a thank-you for letting us stay.”
Maisie heard Ellie’s protests but her attention immediately shifted as they stepped into the high-ceilinged entryway. The scent of fresh pine welcomed them into the house. A tree not much taller than Maisie was decorated with what looked like homemade ornaments.
The mat she wiped her feet on read: Santa stop here. Maisie shook her head, met her host’s gaze. “Stop saying you’ll pay. You’re letting me and my whole family stay. I’m taking photos. I can’t wait.”
Ellie laughed. “Colton is basically family to me and my brother so it’s hardly an imposition to have you with us over Christmas. Plus, I’m looking forward to having a full house.”
Maisie slipped off her boots. “Well, Colton is my family and if he’s yours too, it means we’re family. Which means, photos are on me.”
Asher came running back into the room, his boots squelching. Ellie winced. “Ash. You’re supposed to take your boots off.”
His shoulders drooped. “But I’m going back out after cookies.”
“Boots,” Ellie said.
Once again, Maisie bit her lip. Oh yeah. She was all about looking forward; to this week, this Christmas, the activities, the people, and the moments she’d capture with her camera. This was going to be the best Christmas ever.
Chapter Two
NICHOLAS KING SCANNED THE narrow two-lane street for a parking spot but there was no way his behemoth of a truck was going to fit between any of the narrowly painted white lines. When his sister, Ellie, had said small town, he hadn’t considered that she meant one right out of a Hallmark movie. Taking a right at the four-way, he eased in against the curb behind another vehicle.
Once he cut the engine, Nick closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths. He’d left late and traffic had sucked, but he was here. Almost. He just needed to grab some cookies for his nephew, Asher. Getting out of the truck tweaked his knee. Swearing under his breath, he pushed away the irritation he felt over not being in the shape he should be. Everyday activities shouldn’t fucking hurt.
Even the side street looked like it was part of a Christmas movie. Wreaths hung on every door, lights and holiday displays adorned the windows, and the parking meters had reindeer antlers. The ones on the meter he fed were falling over so he had to move them to get his coins in.
When he turned the corner onto Main Street, a classic Bing Crosby tune played from hidden speakers. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, casting a gentle, yellowish glow over snowcapped mountains in the distance. Ellie would probably complain about Nick showing up with treats, but that was an uncle’s right and Nick hadn’t seen the kid, other than on FaceTime, for too long.
Lately, he’d been missing Asher and Ellie a lot more than usual. Nick moved around people on the sidewalk, his shoulders tensing as they glanced his way for more than a few seconds. When he received no more than a “Merry Christmas,” he relaxed, his breath coming more freely.
You’re not in your hometown or at a hockey arena. Get over yourself. The only guy most of these people are excited to see is Santa.
Though he wasn’t feeling like the merriest version of himself, the thought made him laugh. It’d been a while for that, as well.
* * *
AFTER GRABBING SOME COOKIES at a place that could only be described as a bakery run by Santa’s elves, Nick made the rest of the journey to his sister’s place. He might not be Buddy the Elf but Nick was excited to wake up on Christmas morning with his family. The closer he got to Ellie’s new house, the more positive he felt. He hated that he’d been injured but he needed this break. More than he wanted to admit.
Playing professionally took laser focus and dedication. He’d never wavered; not from wanting it and not from working for it. It often left him no time for anything else. Now, the stark realization that nothing lasted forever was reminding him of all the other things he’d pushed to the wayside in his life.
This latest injury, on top of his media mishap a few months earlier, piled on top of losing his estranged mother and finding out his sister was getting a divorce, had thrown Nick mentally, physically, and emotionally. Despite seeing a therapist, putting his all into rehab, and trying to find something resembling Zen, pulling out of this slump was proving harder than he’d ever imagined.
By the time he turned into the long drive, the sun had dipped in between the mountaintops, looking more like a painting than reality. He’d FaceTimed with them to see the property, the business, and the house, but seeing it in person was better. It was incredible. A wide timber sign sat behind one of the fences wrapped with holiday lights. It read TICKLE TREE FARMS and boasted twenty-six acres of beautiful space that offered U-pick or ready-to-go trees. The lot was closed for the evening but would be open right up to Christmas Eve.
When Ellie told him about the place, he’d been distractedly excited for her. But when she told him about her divorce six months ago, and her plans to move forward, he was concerned about her taking on so much on her own. He just wanted her to be okay and he felt like if he’d been paying more attention to something besides himself and his career, his sister wouldn’t have had to face so much alone. Misplaced guilt, his therapist would say. At least he was learning something.
He took a left at the end of the drive, a small smile lifting his lips. There were lights everywhere. The two-story farmhouse came into view and a sense of peace, something he recognized because it happened so infrequently lately, washed over him. He couldn’t see the neighbors to the left but he knew they weren’t too far away. The place wasn’t isolated, just private. A private wonderland that was perfect for Ellie and Asher.
His sister’s Cherokee was parked in the driveway, blocked in by an aging and ugly red Jeep, a rental sedan, and a minivan. His smile grew, knowing he’d give their old friend, Colton Bell, a hard time if the minivan was his. It’d been way too long since he’d seen Colton. He hadn’t even met his husband, Jacob. Between their careers, life, and physical distance, not to mention Nick traveling all the time, he hadn’t really seen anyone.
Maybe that was something to consider for the pro side of the list taking up too much space in his brain. He got out of the truck, grabbed his bags and the cookies, and hadn’t taken two full steps toward the house when his nephew came barreling out the door in bright-green pajamas and snow boots.
“Uncle Nick!”
Nick’s heart lodged in his throat, emotion pummeling him, as his four-year-old nephew flew across the porch, practically diving down the stairs. He dropped his bags, balanced the cookie box precariously, and winced as he bent low to scoop him up with his free arm.
Closing his eyes, there was no need to force a smile this time. “Hey, kid. Nice jammies.”
Little arms curled around his neck. “I missed you, Uncle Nick.”
When he opened his eyes, he saw his sister standing in the doorway, a smile on her pretty face. Her long blond waves cascaded around her shoulders. Nick’s heart squeezed painfully. These two people were everything to him.
“I missed you too,” he said. Setting him down, he picked up his bags and nudged Asher. “It’s cold out here. Let’s go in.”
And then, Asher proceeded to fill him in on every single moment in one run-on sentence. While the kid rambled, Nick went up the steps, dropped his bags again, and pulled his sister into a tight hug.
“Hey,” he said. The tension in his shoulders, his spine, and his chest loosened just from seeing, for himself, that they were good. They’d landed on their feet.
“Hey, yourself. Nice truck.”
He pulled back, Asher still giving him the scoop on every single thing, and smiled. “I like it. Figured if I was driving up here, I might as well be comfortable.”
“You look tired,” Ellie said, stepping away to pull her long sweater tight around her.
“Long drive,” he said. Asher was still rambling. Nick only caught every third or fourth word, the kid was talking so fast.
Her brows rose. “Uh-huh.” She knew him too well.
They moved into the foyer of the house and shut the door. He glanced around, taking in the high ceilings, gleaming wood floors, and little touches of Christmas. Mini twinkle lights and sprigs of greenery wove in and out of short, fat candles on a dark-stained wood entrance table.
He eyed the small tree with a grin. “How many trees do you have up and decorated?”
Ellie lifted her chin. “A few. One isn’t decorated yet.”
Nick laughed. Their mom would never let them get real trees because she didn’t want “something else to take care of.” Ironic, since Nick had been the one who cared for Ellie.
Asher tugged Nick’s free hand. “You should see my room, Uncle Nick. I hung up all my posters.”
Nick’s lips twitched as he met his sister’s gaze. “See, he’s handling the transition well.”
“What doesn’t he handle well?” Ellie asked.
“Are those my cookies?” Asher asked, eyeing the box without brushing back the strands of light-brown hair that fell a little long over his forehead.
“Asher,” Ellie said in that low, slightly drawn-out mom tone that still amused Nick. He didn’t know where she had learned it because their mother hadn’t ever spoken to them with that sort of gentle firmness. If she had bothered with them at all, it was to harp on Ellie for every little thing or to pressure Nick into working harder. As if that was possible.
“Of course they are,” Nick said, holding the box out, slipping his boots off and then his jacket.
Asher took the box and went running down the hall, yelling, “More cookies!”
More? When Nick hung his coat and put his boots away in one of the multiple closets along the wall, he moved to pick up his bags but Ellie stepped in front of him.
“I’ve missed you, Nicky.”
He rolled his eyes. She was the only one who got away with that shit. “Jesus, you’re still such a brat.”
She laughed and gave him another tight hug. “It’s a little sister rule. It’ll never change.”
Unsure if it was her or her house that smelled like cinnamon, he hugged her back. “You doing okay?”
She pulled away, looked up at him with blue eyes much like his own, only hers were a little brighter. “I’m good.”
Nick picked up his duffels. “He call? Contact you?”
Ellie shook her head.
“Asshole.”
His sister laughed. “You’re not wrong. But I just want to focus on Christmas and all the good things.”
He started to tease her about being such a Pollyanna but, in truth, he envied her ability to always look on the bright side. Her ex had not only cheated on her but elevated the level of his assholery by telling her it was her fault. It was best Nick not ever be in the same room with him again.
And to focus his thoughts elsewhere: “Where is Colt?”
She led him down the hallway. “Walking the grounds. He and his hubby arrived right after Jacob’s younger sister showed up, with cookies, and right before his other sister and her husband arrived. She’s pregnant. The older one. None of them have seen each other in a while so they’re all pretty excited and ready to celebrate. Jacob’s parents won’t be here until tomorrow though.”
Nick raised his brows at his sister sounding a lot like Asher with her details. Her enthusiasm for entertaining was something he’d never shared, but it felt damn good to be here and know he was going to be part of a family holiday.
They stopped in the kitchen where Asher was lugging a jug of milk out of the fridge. He already had a cookie on a plate.
He looked at them with a proud smile, hair still falling in his eyes. “I got it, Mom.”
“One cookie, Ash.”
His little bottom lip slipped between his teeth and Nick wanted to grab the jug for him, pour his damn milk, but he kind of loved the way his sister just let him try, let him be independent.
“When the Smarties get back, can we watch a Christmas movie?” Asher asked, taking a wobbly step onto his stool before letting the jug hit the counter.
“You could buy a smaller jug of milk,” Nick whispered, his lips twitching into a smile. Determination ran in the family.
“He’s got it,” Ellie said as Asher turned the lid, balancing it against the glass edge.
“I got it, Uncle Nick. I’m strong like you.”
Another squeeze in his chest. His heart was likely to get the bigger workout than the rest of him this week. “Yeah, you are, bud.”
“See?” Asher beamed.
The pride on Asher’s face when he successfully poured his milk reminded Nick that it had been a long time since he’d celebrated a small triumph. It also made him realize Asher was getting big so fast; he didn’t want to miss it all.
“Good job, bud. Make sure you put it away. I’m going to take Uncle Nick up to his room.”
Nick followed his sister up the stairs that led off the kitchen. “So, Colt, his husband, an older sister, and his husband’s parents?”
On the wide-open wood-planked landing, Ellie stopped again. The glow of the moon was coming through the skylight. “Plus Jacob and Natalie’s—that’s the older one—younger sister. She’s adorable and sweet. She offered to update my website and take new photos.”
Probably for a price. Just because they were Colt’s family didn’t mean they couldn’t take advantage of his sister.
“She qualified for that?”
Ellie shook her head, walked to one of the doors on the right, and opened it. “You’re such a cynic.”
Moving past her, he walked into the room and threw his bags on the king-size bed covered in a Grinch comforter. He turned and faced her, hands on his hips.
“Nice bedding, brat. Also, I’m a realist, El. And you didn’t answer the question.”
He’d missed the signs her ex-husband was taking advantage of not only her but Nick’s name. He wouldn’t do that again.
“She’s Colton’s sister-in-law, Nick. She looks and acts like a badass Disney princess and we’ve already bonded over idiot exes and snickerdoodles, so we’re basically best friends.”
She turned and walked out of the room.
He followed. “And look at that; you still haven’t answered my question.”
She groaned, looked back over her shoulder. “I missed you, but not your protective older brother foolishness.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not foolishness. It’s called wisdom.”
His sister snort laughed and it reminded him of when he used to make her laugh so hard she couldn’t breathe.
Ellie covered her mouth, then composed herself. “Let your guard down, Nicky. She’s a professional photographer. You’ll love Maisie. I guarantee it.”
Nick stopped like he hit a brick wall. When the Smarties get back … Smart. Photographer. Maisie Smart. Holy shit.
His lungs constricted and images flashed through his head like a movie on fast-forward.
Rich, brown eyes that saw right through a man. Hair softer than silk. A smile that haunted his dreams even months after. Laughter that rang in his head. A touch that made him ache. The way she’d moved against him and the scent of her shampoo. Her fingers on his skin, his hands all over her, her legs wrapped around him, her mouth on his, kissing her, touching her, learning her, and falling so hard he’d have been content to stay forever. But he’d had to leave. And force himself, almost daily, not to look back.
“Nick?”
He looked at his sister, his pulse beating like a drum in his ears.
“You okay?”
No. He was screwed.
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