3. Aiden

CHAPTER 3

Aiden

Crisp air nipped at my nose as I shuffled along the cleared asphalt of the parking lot. My boots scuffed the wet ground, the misty drizzle coating everything in that Pacific Northwest gray. Nicholas had insisted we come to the fair at the Kincaid Christmas tree farm, and Markus had backed him up. So, here I was, twenty-two years old, but bundled up in a ridiculous reindeer hat that Nicholas had pulled out of the storage bin at home. The floppy antlers swayed with each step, and I didn’t even have the energy to argue about it.

“Could you at least pretend to enjoy yourself?” Nicholas looped his arm through mine, grinning like the lovechild of Buddy the Elf and a Hallmark movie hero.

“Sure, if you want me to lie,” I said, tugging my arm free but not straying far.

Markus came up on my other side, handing me a steaming cup of hot cocoa topped with whipped cream and the tiniest marshmallows I’d ever seen. “Bribe,” he said, eyebrows raised in mock seriousness.

I hesitated, but the sweet scent of chocolate won. Wrapping both hands around the cup, I let the warmth soak through my gloves. “Fine. Bribery accepted.”

Markus smiled, his gaze lingering just a moment longer than usual, like he was trying to read me. He always did that, probably wondering how far I’d retreat into my head if left to my own devices. It was his thing—being a caretaker. And, well, I didn’t hate it.

The farm was like something out of a Christmas special, complete with a giant tree at the center of the grounds, strung with lights and topped with a star that glowed golden against the cloudy sky. Booths lined the pathways, selling everything from wooden toys to jars of cranberry jam. The smells—cinnamon, pine, roasted chestnuts—were enough to pull me out of my funk, at least a little.

My fingers tightened on the cup as I caught sight of a table covered in stuffies. They weren’t just the generic kind you’d find in a department store. These were special—hand-sewn bears with button eyes, penguins wearing scarves, and deer with felt antlers. One of them, a scrappy little reindeer with slightly crooked stitching, caught my attention.

I stopped, my heart doing that stupid little flutter it always did when something cute tugged at me. It wasn’t even that nice of a stuffy, but the imperfection made it perfect somehow, like it had been loved before it was even finished. I picked it up.

Nicholas and Markus had wandered ahead, distracted by a booth advertising something spiced and seasonal, leaving me to stare at the reindeer in peace. I wanted it. And not in the way you casually want a latte or a new pair of socks. I wanted it in a way that made me feel small inside, a little bubble of warmth and longing pressing against my chest.

“Thinking about a souvenir?”

The voice had a quiet authority to it, deep and smooth the way melted caramel felt on your tongue.

I turned toward the sound and?—

My breath clutched in my throat.

The little reindeer stuffy was still clutched in my hand. The man standing behind me was tall—taller than me, taller than Nicholas, even taller than Markus—and broad in a way that made him seem like he could bear the weight of anything without breaking a sweat. His green flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows revealed forearms dusted with a light sprinkle of hair, and his jeans were worn enough to suggest he actually worked in them. He didn’t look like someone playing at running a Christmas tree farm. He was the farm, every bit of him rooted and grounded.

I swallowed hard, heat prickling the back of my neck under the dumb reindeer hat. “Uh…” I held up the stuffy, suddenly self-conscious. “Just looking.”

His gaze dropped to the reindeer in my hands, then flicked back up to my face, his mouth tugging into a half-smile. “Looks like more than just looking to me.”

“I—” My words caught in my throat.

“You’ve got a good eye.” He nodded toward the stuffy. “That one’s my favorite. My sister made it. She calls him Rudy. Says the crooked stitching gives him character.” His voice softened just slightly, the kind of tone people use when they’re coaxing skittish animals or kids unsure about opening up.

“Character,” I echoed, my fingers brushing over the uneven seam on Rudy’s antlers. “Yeah. I like that.”

“You should have it.” He stepped closer, not in a way that felt imposing but steady, solid, like he was daring me to argue. “If it’s calling to you, it’s yours.”

“I—no, I couldn’t,” I stammered.

“Sure you could.” He gently reached out, brushing his fingers over the top of the reindeer’s head. “Something tells me you’re the kind of person who’d take care of him.”

I froze, my heart thudding like a drum in my chest. There was no way he could know how those words hit, no way he could know about the tiny little part of me that longed to be cared for too.

Before I could answer, Nicholas’s voice broke in. “Levi!”

I turned as my brother and Markus reappeared, their faces lighting up as they recognized the man in front of me.

Levi—the guy standing so casually close to me—grinned and held out his hand. “Nicholas. Markus. What’s up?”

Nicholas shook his hand first, his usual charm on full display. “Good to see you, man. Satisfied with your grandad’s care at the facility?”

Levi’s expression softened. “Yes, thanks to you two. He’s been happy, and he’s even starting to smile more. Your team’s been great.”

Markus chimed in. “We promised to give him the best care, and we meant it.”

“Right,” Nicholas added with a grin. “We’ve got him in the VIP suite now—heated floors, spa treatments, and a butler to boot.”

Levi laughed. “If by ‘VIP suite’ you mean a room with a better view of the garden, I’m sure he’ll take it.”

“Hey, we do what we can,” Nicholas said, smirking.

The laughter between them felt warm, but Levi’s eyes kept flicking toward me, the quiet intensity of his gaze making my skin heat.

Nicholas gestured toward me. “Levi, this is my brother Aiden. Looks like you’ve already met.”

Levi blinked, and for a moment I might have imagined, something warm and intrigued flickered in his eyes. “Nice to meet you, Aiden.”

“You too.” I cleared my throat, clasping his hand in a brief shake that sent a zing of energy racing up my arm.

Just then, a teenager with wild curls hurried up to the table, clutching a bag of kettle corn and looking triumphant. “Levi, I’m back. Got held up at the kettle corn stand. They’ve got the caramel drizzle kind today!” She greeted Markus and Nicholas with a grin. The two men wandered off when Nicholas mentioned that he wanted them to get some matching scarves.

“Perfect timing,” Levi said, his grin warm as he gestured toward me. “Aiden, this is my sister, Paige. She’s the one who made Rudy.”

Paige’s eyes lit up as they landed on the stuffy in my hands. “Oh, you like Rudy?” she asked, setting her bag down and leaning across the table like she was sharing a secret. “He’s one of my favorites too! Crooked antlers and all.”

“Are you kidding? He’s perfect,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “The stitching, the way he’s just a little off-kilter—it’s like he’s already got a story.”

Her smile widened, and she tilted her head in mock-seriousness. “That’s exactly what I was going for. I mean, anyone can make a perfect stuffy, right? But Rudy? He’s got personality. Character.”

“Exactly!” I said, suddenly animated. “Like, he’s the kind of guy who gets into scrapes but always comes out on top because he’s scrappy and resourceful.”

Levi chuckled softly, and when I glanced at him, he had that same amused, warm expression from before. My cheeks heated. I shifted my focus back to Paige, who was now pointing to a row of other creations on the table.

“And if you like Rudy, you’ll love these.” She picked up a tiny penguin with a wobbly scarf and a bear with mismatched buttons for eyes. “This one’s Penny. She’s adventurous, always looking for her next big expedition. And the bear? That’s Beau. He’s shy but loyal.”

“Penny and Beau,” I said, testing the names as I ran my fingers over the soft fabric. A genuine smile tugged at my lips. “You give them personalities too?”

“Oh, definitely,” Paige said with a sage nod. “Each one is unique. That’s the point of handmade stuffies—they’re not just toys. They’re… companions.”

My heart gave a little tug at that, and I realized I’d leaned closer to the table, completely caught up in her enthusiasm. It wasn’t just the stuffies. Paige’s passion reminded me of the way I felt when I found something that made me feel small and safe inside, like I didn’t have to put on a mask for anyone.

I caught myself then, suddenly self-conscious. My fingers stilled on Rudy, and I glanced at Levi, half-expecting a smirk, or worse, thinly veiled disgust. But Levi’s gaze held none of that. Instead, he looked… intrigued. Soft, even. Like he was trying to figure me out, not in a bad way, but like he wanted to know more.

The heat crawled up my neck, and I quickly reached into my pocket, pulling out a few bills. “Okay, I’ll take Rudy, Penny, and Beau.”

“No way.” Levi smoothly handed Paige a bill before I could argue. “Consider it my treat.”

“Levi, you don’t have to do that,” I protested, though my protest sounded weak even to me.

He shrugged, his grin teasing but kind. “Think of it as an early Christmas gift.”

“An early Christmas gift,” I echoed, trying to keep my voice even. “For a guy you’ve just met?”

“Sometimes you just know,” Levi said, his eyes twinkling with humor, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper in his tone.

Paige handed me a bag with the stuffies, her own grin bright. “You take good care of them, okay? Rudy’s a bit of a troublemaker.”

“I’ll keep him in line,” I promised, laughing despite myself.

Before I could say anything more, Nicholas and Markus reappeared, wearing matching scarves.

“Look at us,” Nicholas said with a grin, gesturing to the scarves. “Officially the most festive pair in Juniper Hollow.”

Markus smirked, his voice dry but affectionate. “I told him the reindeer print was a bit much, but he insisted.”

“Because it’s adorable,” Nicholas shot back, elbowing him lightly.

Their playful banter was infectious, drawing a chuckle from Paige and a soft laugh from Levi. The moment felt warm, like the kind of scene that belonged in a snow globe—perfect and self-contained.

Amid the lighthearted banter, I couldn’t help but notice Levi’s gaze sliding back to me. Every time our eyes met, it was like a spark I couldn’t ignore. My stomach fluttered in a way I hadn’t felt in years, but I shoved it down.

I couldn’t go there. Not with him. Not with anyone here.

As we drifted from Paige’s stall, the weight of Levi’s gaze lingered on my back, as if daring me to turn around. But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

Because one thing I’d promised myself was that this year, I wasn’t going to let anyone—no matter how tall, how grounded, or how green-eyed—make me forget my plan to leave this tiny town.