4. Lucas

Chapter 4

Lucas

November

Wishing Tree always came alive in the winter—a holiday postcard brought to life. It was easy to see why people came from all over. Christmas in this town was something from a dream, the kind of thing that made you believe in magic, even if only for a little while. I breathed in the cold air as I walked down the snow-dusted sidewalk, a box of Bailey’s latest creations tucked under my arm, and ended up at The Story Lantern, the familiar chime of the bell above the door greeting me like an old friend. The store’s warmth washed over me, a stark contrast to the chilly November air outside.

The place smelled like old books and coffee, the perfect blend of nostalgia and comfort, and as a self-proclaimed bibliophile, I was never happier than when I left with an armful of books. Sometimes, it was a new book, sometimes from the massive stock of second-hand novels the owner, Wesley Darkwood, curated. Either way, I never ran out of things to read. The store was already dressed in its Thanksgiving best, with garlands and twinkling lights strung along the shelves and a large wreath hanging above the fireplace in the reading nook. Christmas was the next step, and I knew that fall colors would give way to sparkles almost overnight.

As usual, Wesley was organizing a few new arrivals on the display behind the counter. When I approached, he glanced up, and a welcoming smile spread across his handsome face. With his dark hair, eyes, and cute pirate-type beard, he should have been someone I was attracted to.

But nope. My stupid head wasn’t invested in anyone remotely interested in me.

“Lu! Just in time,” Wesley said, wiping his hands on a cloth before reaching out to take the box from me. “Bailey’s new decorations, I presume?”

I nodded, handing over the box. “Yep. He would’ve brought them, but Kai has the flu, and Bailey’s in nurse mode. Left me with strict instructions on how to arrange them in the window, though.”

Wesley frowned. “Send them my best.”

“I’ll text him,” I chuckled. “I’m staying well away.”

Wesley opened the box to peek inside and pulled out a wire angel decorated with polished stone. “Wow. These are going to look fantastic,” he said.

I smiled, watching as Wesley unpacked a few of the ornaments with care. My little brother had outdone himself this year—each piece was handcrafted with the kind of detail that made anyone want to stop and stare, little works of art capturing the magic of Christmas. I couldn’t be prouder.

“How have you been?” Wesley asked—same as he always did since our one date had turned into me melting down about my love life and him melting down about his family and having so much debt he didn’t know where to turn.

We’d been friends ever since he’d arrived in town a year back, but sometimes he asked questions I didn’t want to answer.

“Yeah,” I said. “You?”

“Cool,” he murmured, and we swapped smiles because, in that short exchange, we’d shared everything we needed to.

“Weather’s turning,” Wesley said, glancing at the window. “They’re warning of a nor’easter headed our way. Might hit us a bit before Thanksgiving with early snow.”

“Yeah, I heard,” I replied, frowning slightly. The snowstorms in November weren’t usuallytoobad. Still, with the way we’d had a damn hurricane skirt us in August, I was wary of anything like the nor’easter being promised because of some storm happening somewhere far from here.

Wesley nodded, his expression thoughtful. “We’ll keep the walkways clear and the fireplace stocked. But I’m sure it’ll be beautiful—Wishing Tree always looks best under a fresh blanket of snow.”

I couldn’t argue with that. The town transformed with the first snowfall, like something out of a fairytale. The Parade of Light happened on the first of December, and with the Christmas market setting up, it was the busiest time of the year. Once again, I was in charge of the parade, ensuring everything ran smoothly, the lights twinkled just right, and the floats were in perfect order. It was a lot of work, but the joy on people’s faces and the wonder in the kids’ eyes made the long hours and the cold fingers worth it.

“Uncle Lucas!” A high-pitched voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to see Alice barreling toward me, her pigtails bouncing with each step. Brooke followed close behind with her youngest, Willow, balanced on her hip, the toddler’s wide eyes taking in the world with that innocent curiosity only kids seemed to have.

“Hey, squirt,” I greeted Alice, scooping her up as she threw herself at me. She was ten now, so not really a squirt, but she was small enough for me to get away with it. “What’s got you so excited?”

“Uncle Bailey was supposed to take me to the Wishing Tree to make a wish, but Uncle Kai is sick,” Alice explained, her expression serious. “So, you have to take me. And then we can get hot chocolate.”

I glanced at Brooke, who shrugged with a smile and then lowered her voice. “She’s been talking about it all morning. I told her I’d see if you or Duncan could take care of it.” She added a silent plea that she hoped I was available.

“It’s my lunch hour, of course, I can take you,” I said, ruffling Alice’s hair.

Alice beamed, and I felt a warmth spread through my chest. There was something about how she looked at me, so full of trust and love, that made everything else disappear. I’d do anything for my family, and they knew it.

Wesley chuckled from behind the counter. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full, Lucas.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied. “How about choosing a book to get as well?” I set Alice down so she could head to the children’s section.

Brooke rolled her eyes. “You spoil her.”

I bopped Willow’s nose. “I spoil them all.”

Brooke shifted Willow to her other hip, and the toddler reached out to grab one of the nearby garlands. “Well, thanks, Lucas. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile. “We’ll set up the Christmas decorations, and I’ll head out with her. Do you want me to take her home after?”

“Please—Cal is working from home.” My big brother Callum, the eldest of the four Haynes boys, was a lawyer with a perfect office in town, but he preferred working at home. He wanted to be with Brooke and the kids as much as possible, and I could understand that.

Wesley and I carefully placed each of Bailey’s handcrafted decorations in the front window. The window display was a Christmas wonderland, but these ornaments added something special, a touch of magic only Bailey could create.

When we were done, Alice returned, tugging at my hand. “Can we go now, Uncle Lucas? I need to make my wish!”

I nodded and paid for the book she’d chosen.

“Thanks for the help,” Wesley said.

“No worries. I’ll see you at the parade?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Wesley replied with a grin.

“Okay, squirt, let’s go.”

We headed toward the Wishing Tree, a wide oak that stood tall in the center of town, a symbol of hope and tradition that had been part of Wishing Tree for as long as I could remember. People came from all over to hang their wishes on its branches, believing that somehow, the tree would make them come true. It was silly, maybe, but in a town like this, where the magic of the season was so real you could almost touch it, it was hard not to believe.

Alice was practically vibrating with excitement as we approached the tree, a small piece of paper clutched in her hand. She’d already written her wish, something she wouldn’t share with anyone, not even me. That was part of the tradition—your wish was your own, a secret between you and the tree.

I lifted her so she could tie her wish to one of the lower branches, her little hands working carefully. When she was done, she stared down at me, her eyes shining with happiness.

“Your turn, Uncle Lucas,” she said. “You have to make a wish, too.”

I hesitated, feeling a lump form in my throat. There was only one thing I wanted—the same happiness my brothers had found: a happy ever after, a cozy home filled with laughter, and maybe a couple of kids running around. But for me, it was never that simple. I wasn’t like most people—I didn’t feel the same pull or attraction that seemed to come so quickly to others. I longed for what they had, but every time I tried to chase that dream, it felt… empty. Forced.

And for some godforsaken reason, my stupid heart wanted one person.

Paul Hollister.

Fuck my life.

It was almost Christmas again, almost a full year since I’d seen Holly at the wedding, and in the eleven months since he’d kissed me, threatened me, and then run, I’d worked my way through it all—anger and the sharp sting of temper that still lingered long after the words had faded. Then came the horror, raw and unrelenting, at the memory of that kiss. Not because it had happened but because I’d wanted it.

He threatened me.

Told me it was my fault.

He didn’t mean that, he was drunk. He’s not an asshole.

Right?

And somewhere along the way, that horror twisted into something I couldn’t ignore anymore.

Need.

Not just a need to understand him, to unravel the mess of who he was and why he’d done what he’d done, but a deeper, more personal need. A want I couldn’t push aside, no matter how hard I tried. It terrified me, the way he’d buried himself under my skin, how that kiss—a drunken, desperate thing—still held me in its grip.

Since he’d vanished, retired from the Harriers, and gone silent, I’d done my best not to come off as interested, holding back from pestering Kai about what he was up to. On the two occasions I’d let my curiosity slip as to why Holly didn’t visit, Kai had been vague, brushing it off with something about him “looking for his next role” or “figuring things out.”

I could have contacted him myself if I’d had the courage of my convictions. But what would I say? He’d retired, left his hockey career behind, and had never returned to Wishing Tree—not even for Kai and Bailey. That didn’t scream longing for me after that kiss. And why would it? He didn’t know how I felt about him because I was only coming to terms with it myself.

I couldn’t get that kiss out of my head, whether he’d been drunk off his ass or not. But Holly had left, disappearing into his own world, and as much as I hated to admit it, his silence told me all I needed to know. Whatever I’d been feeling was one-sided. Or so I kept telling myself.

I wanted what my brothers had—love that felt easy and natural—but it always felt out of reach. I wondered if I was overthinking it. What did being demiromantic and demisexual in a world that celebrated immediate attraction mean?

When I thought about attraction, it wasn’t like a switch flipping on; it was more like a slow candle being lit, taking its time to flicker to life. I craved connection, depth, and understanding before I could entertain the idea of romantic feelings. It left me feeling somewhat lost, unable to navigate the familiar waters of dating and relationships when my only connection was to Holly.

A kiss I couldn’t forget, unlike anything I’d ever known. It was all whiskey, heat, and intensity—a spark that shattered everything I thought I knew about myself. Holly’s rough yet gentle hands had cradled my face, grounding me, holding me as though he couldn’t let go. His lips, soft and warm, carried a tenderness beneath the urgency, offering a piece of himself I never knew existed.

He’d kissed me like he meant it, like he needed it, and for that moment, nothing else had mattered. His scent filled the space between us, his mouth moved over mine, and I’d been left breathless, dazed, and undone. In that stolen moment, he’d broken through every wall I’d built, leaving me vulnerable in a way I couldn’t ignore.

No matter how much time had passed, I couldn’t shake the feel of his hands, the press of his lips, or the way that kiss upended everything I thought I knew about myself. Holly had shattered my certainty with one kiss, and it lingered, unforgettable.

“Uncle Lucas?” Alice’s voice pulled me back to the moment, grounding me. I forced a smile, reminding myself that while I might not fit neatly into a pigeonhole, I was still worthy of love and connection in my own way. I didn’t have all the answers, but maybe that was okay. One day, I’d find someone who wasn’t Holly but who kissed like Holly, looked like Holly, understood me, and could light that candle in a way that felt right.

“Sorry,” I replied, shaking my head to clear it. I dropped a couple of dollars into the honesty box, a simple gesture that felt oddly significant. Then I took a card and began to scribble down a wish. I wished for what my brothers had—a life filled with love, laughter, and a genuine sense of belonging. It felt like a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, this tree would work its magic.

As I tied the paper to the branch, I felt a strange mix of hope and resignation. One day, I told myself. One day, I’d find someone who ignited that passion within me and made me feel alive in a way that didn’t remind me of Holly. Someone who wasn’t a loud, drunk, pushy hockey player filled with hate and hurt but rather someone kind and genuine.

“Let’s get that hot chocolate,” I said, turning to Alice with a smile.

Her face lit up, mischief in her eyes as she grinned back at me. For a moment, I felt the warmth of her excitement lift my spirits, and I clung to that feeling, hoping it could carry me through the uncertainty that lay ahead.

“Can I have extra whipped cream?” she asked.

“What would your mom say about that?” I replied.

She wrinkled her cute nose at me. “We won’t tell her unless she asks.”

“And if she asks?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell her it was your fault.”

“Okay then.”

She knew I’d get her whatever she wanted.

Take that, Callum, Duncan, and Bailey! I was the best uncle ever.