The next few days flew by in a flurry of festivities, from caroling to the Christmas Eve Clam Bake. After the town-wide celebration, they’d returned home and Abby taught Logan and Max how to make keepsake ornaments.
Her heart had nearly stopped beating when Logan stole a glance in her direction while filling out his wish for the new year. The spark in his eye was unmistakable.
She’d assumed deciding what to write on her own slip of paper would be arduous, if not impossible. After all she’d been through, how could she articulate her hopes for the future?
In the end, the words flowed from her fingertips.
This year, I want to count my blessings, love without limits, and live each day as though there may not be another.
They’d each hung their ornaments on the tree with the promise to read their intentions aloud next Christmas.
Next Christmas….
Snuggled beneath the covers, Abby shivered with delight at the thought.
To think, the day she used to dread now filled her with hope and excitement.
Unable to sleep, Abby slipped out of bed before the sun.
She stole quietly down the staircase, surprised to find Logan lounging on the couch in front of the fire, a mug of coffee in hand.
Golden rays of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across his strong, handsome features. For the first time, she found herself appreciating each line and curvature without the familiar pang of guilt.
He must have felt her staring because he lifted his gaze, smiling when he spotted her standing in the doorway. “You’re up early.”
“Too excited to sleep. You?”
“Same.” He set his mug on the coffee table, making a move to stand. “There’s fresh coffee in the French press.”
She motioned for him to stay put. “I’ll get it.” After filling her cup, she quickly checked on the snowman-shaped cinnamon rolls ready to be baked when Max awoke, then rejoined Logan in the sitting room.
He lifted the edge of the blanket, and she scooted beside him, her skin tingling at his nearness. Even his scent—fresh like the ocean after the rain—scattered goose bumps across arms.
“Merry Christmas.” His voice still sounded husky from sleep, and her heart fluttered.
“Merry Christmas.”
Logs crackled in the fireplace, accentuating the stillness—and the heightened intimacy of being alone.
Now would be the perfect time to express everything that’s been on her mind. She said a silent prayer that the conversation would go the way she hoped.
“I was thinking I might rent the Hobarts’ place,” she announced, attempting a casual tone. “For me and Max.”
Mid-sip, Logan choked on his coffee. “Why would you do that?” he sputtered, wiping the droplets off his chin. “This is your home.”
“It’s your home, Logan. And I would never ask you to leave. Donnie wouldn’t want that, and neither would I. But I don’t know if this situation will work long-term. And the Hobarts’ place is just down the street. Sure, it needs some work, but it could be really nice. Plus, it’s smaller than this house, and Max and I don’t need this much space.” After the rush of words, Abby held her breath, waiting for Logan to speak.
Worried he might continue to protest, she was surprised to see him smile.
“I’ve been thinking about that, actually. And I have an idea.”
“You do?” Her pulse quickened with curiosity. What could he possibly have in mind?
He set his mug on the coffee table, then swiveled on the couch to face her. “My idea may seem out of left field, so just promise me you’ll at least think about it, okay?”
“Okay…” she said slowly, mildly nervous now.
Logan gathered a breath, his expression a mixture of hopeful anticipation and uncertainty. “What would you think about turning this place into a bed-and-breakfast? You and Max could stay in the house, and I’d live in the bungalow out back. It’s separate, but I’d still be around to maintain the property, help with guests, and be here for Max.”
“A bed-and-breakfast?” Abby repeated, her mind buzzing with the possibilities.
“I know it’s a lot to consider, but I think you’d be great at it, Abs. It’s all the things you love, rolled into one.”
All the things she loved….
Most importantly, Logan and Max.
“I love the idea.” Her eyes filled with unexpected tears.
Logan smiled a light-up-every-inch-of-your-face kind of smile—the kind of smile that gave a glimpse into a person’s soul, revealing their closest-kept dreams and joys.
Abby could have kissed him, except he sprang from the couch.
He returned seconds later with a small rectangular package wrapped in red-and-green paper. “I was hoping you’d like the idea. Now, I need you to open this.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait for Max to open our gifts?” she asked, although she was eager to give Logan his present, too. She’d spent hours scouring the internet to find the perfect gearshift knob for his El Camino.
“I don’t think I can wait that long.” Grinning, he perched on the edge of the couch, his grayish-blue eyes transfixed on her face. “Go on, open it.”
“Okay, okay. Keep your shirt on.” She laughed at his infectious, youthful energy as she untied the gold ribbon first. The paper didn’t quite line up straight around all the edges, but she could tell Logan had put great care into wrapping it, which only made her appreciate him more.
The last scrap of paper fell away, revealing a scuffed wooden box with a brass lock.
Her pulse faltered. Could it be…?
“You’ll need this.” Logan handed her a tiny brass key on a gold chain.
Her throat tightening, Abby inserted the key into the lock, gave a quick turn, and the latch popped open.
Logan leaned forward, and her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid.
A collection of handwritten recipe cards filled the box, separated by dividers starting with breakfast foods and ending in desserts.
“Your grandmother’s recipe box,” she whispered, barely able to speak. She knew how much it meant to him—to his grandmother.
“If you don’t like it or—”
“Like it? Logan, I love it. But are you sure?” She met his gaze, and the look in his eyes made her chest ache in the best possible way.
“Yes, I’m sure. About this. And about us.”
The huskiness in Logan’s voice made her heartbeat stammer, and when his gaze fell to her lips, it stopped altogether.
If he tried to kiss her now, she wouldn’t stop him.
The sights and sounds around them blurred together, fading into the background, leaving just enough room in the world for the two of them.
His fingertips found their way to the curve of her neck, his thumb resting on her chin mere inches from her mouth as every centimeter of her skin tingled at his touch.
She simultaneously ached for more, but didn’t want the moment to end.
“It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!” Max’s boisterous shouts and plodding footsteps snapped the world back into focus, and Logan’s hand fell away.
Abby released the breath she’d been holding, forcing aside the budding sense of regret.
Clad in his reindeer pajamas, Max burst into the sitting room, a picture of pure joy. And just as Abby thought he couldn’t look any more elated, his eyes widened. “It’s snowing! Abby, Logan, it’s snowing!” Without waiting for a response, he sprinted toward the door. Jamming his stockinged feet into the nearest pair of boots—which happened to be Abby’s—he wobbled down the front steps, leaving the door wide open.
“Snow? But that isn’t possible.” Bewildered, Abby glanced out the window.
To her disbelief, thick, fluffy snowflakes floated gracefully to the ground.
“Well, I’ll be….” Logan whistled.
With almost as much exuberance as Max, they both rushed into the foyer, eager to witness the miracle firsthand.
After cramming on his boots, Logan headed outside, pausing when she didn’t follow. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to grab another pair of shoes. I’ll be right back.” She darted a glance at the open doorway and the winter wonderland beyond, not wanting to miss a single second.
As if reading her mind, Logan scooped her into his arms. “Come on. There will be time for shoes later.”
Abby laughed, overcome with sheer wonder and childlike delight at the astonishing sight of a white Christmas at the coast.
Verna and Mr. Bingley had already joined Max, and the boy and pup frolicked through the silky white powder with unbridled merriment while Verna watched in her terry bathrobe embroidered with—coincidentally—tiny snowflakes.
Other neighbors spilled out of their homes, marveling at the festive phenomenon.
Abby stole a glance at Logan, only to catch him studying her reaction, his gaze soft and admiring, with a hint of something more. Something she used to see in Donnie’s eyes.
Instinctively, she snuggled closer, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. With their faces so close, she could count every silvery flake dotting his lashes.
“They say it only snows once every couple of decades,” he told her, his voice rich and syrupy. “If you miss the moment, it may not come around again for a long time.”
Her heart thrummed as she read between the lines. “If I’ve learned anything recently, it’s not to let the moment pass.”
Taking her cue, Logan dipped his chin and gently brushed his lips against hers, feather-soft like the snowflakes tickling her skin.
Heat coursed through her body, hot enough to thaw the ice.
As Logan deepened the kiss, Abby lost herself in each blissful, spine-tingling sensation. If possible, she would trade her need to breathe for the ability to prolong this moment forever.
Splat.
Frigid flecks of ice scattered down the collar of her sweater, and Max shouted, “Sorry!”
Logan shivered as the bulk of the snowball melted on his neck.
Abby laughed, brushing damp crystals out of his hair. “Guess this is what life with a kid is like.”
“Then I’d better work on my parenting skills.” After finagling out of his boots, Logan helped Abby slip into them.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he yanked off his socks.
“I don’t want them to get soggy.” He stuffed them into his coat pocket before packing a wad of white powder into a firm lump and chasing after Max.
Her heart full, she watched them romp through the snow, having a grand time as Bing barked at their heels.
Verna came to stand beside her, a soft smile about her lips. “So, dear, did you find everything you were looking for at 1109 West State Street?”
Abby looped her arm through the older woman’s, matching her smile. “And so much more, Verna. So much more.”
She’d come looking for a place to hide.
Instead, she’d found blessings she couldn’t foresee or even imagine.
And she knew it was only the beginning.
This isn’t the end for Abby, Logan, and Max or the rest of our friends in Blessings Bay. To be notified when the next book in the series is released, join Rachael Bloome’s Secret Garden Club at https://www.rachaelbloome.com/secret-garden-club. You’ll also gain immediate access to hours of FREE bonus content.
In the meantime, discover an equally idyllic small town in the bestselling Poppy Creek series. Read The Clause in Christmas today.
