Chapter Two

Leo

One moment I was just a face in the crowd, blending into the sea of people under the lights. And then I saw her.

She was standing there, watching the tree, her gaze distant and thoughtful. There was something familiar about her. The way she stared at the lights was like she wasn’t quite seeing them like she was somewhere else entirely. It’s a look I know well.

When her eyes met mine the noise faded away into a dull hum. I should have looked away, turned, and disappeared into the crowd. But I didn’t.

As we start to walk together toward the hot chocolate booth together, I can’t help but notice all the details I couldn’t see from afar. She’s lovelier than I realized. There’s a warmth to her, an ease that makes me feel oddly comfortable, which isn’t something I’m used to. Back home, conversations like this are always laced with tension or expectation, a constant push-and-pull I have to navigate. But here, now, with this stranger who seems as lost in her own world as I am in mine, I feel something I haven’t felt in a long time —relaxed.

“I’m here with my family,” she says, glancing around. “My brother and his fiancé, but they’re doing their own thing.” She gestures vaguely toward the crowd, a little wry smile on her lips. “I figured I’d let them have a moment. Are you here with someone?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m by myself on this trip.” Such a simple answer for a complex endeavor. This is the opposite of what I told myself I would do while here. I’d planned to keep quiet, stay unnoticed. Don’t’ make connections. Don’t leave any traces. Every second spent in this woman’s company makes me want to break every rule.

It’s our turn for hot chocolate. I order for both of us and the woman behind the counter hands me two steaming cups of hot chocolate covered in whipped cream. I pass her one, feeling an odd thrill as our fingers brush for just a second.

“Thanks,” she says, wrapping her hands the cup.

I find myself watching her, studying the way her expression softens as she takes in the warmth. It’s something simple, but it feels suddenly important.

“So,” she says after a moment, looking up at me with those bright, curious eyes. “What brings you to Love Beach?”

It’s such a basic question, yet it causes my stomach to tie in knots. I’ve never cared about keeping my identity hidden from someone before, but I hate doing it to Willa. I give her an answer that is close to the truth. “Just needed a change of scenery, I suppose. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere I could be someone else for a while.”

Willa nods slowly like she knows exactly what I mean. “I get that,” she murmurs. “Sometimes you just need a break. A little escape.”

“What about you?” I ask, eager to turn the conversation back to her.

She looks down, a faint smile touching her lips. “I’m spending the holidays with my big brother and his fiancé. It’s wonderful, but they’re kind of wrapped up in each other, you know? Which is wonderful, but sometimes it just feels like I’m on the outside looking in.”

I know that feeling all too well. It’s why I’m here, after all. I nod, a wave of empathy catching me off guard. “Yeah. I know the feeling.” I might be the most important man in most rooms, but I’m never really included.

Our eyes meet again, and there’s an understanding between us that doesn’t need words. It’s strange, but at this moment, I feel closer to her than I have to anyone in a long time.

I raise my cup in a small, tentative toast. “To holiday escapes.”

She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and taps her cup against mine. “To holiday escapes.”

The warmth of our hot chocolate lingers, but it’s the way she’s looking at me —curious and open—that’s keeping me here. And though I may have come here for a quiet escape I can’t imagine anything I’d rather be doing than spending a few more minutes with her.

“The Festival of Boats should start soon,” I say, nodding toward the docks. “I haven’t seen it before, but I heard it’s something worth watching.”

She perks up, her eyes lighting with a spark. “The boat parade?” She hesitates, then glances at me, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Would you want to go watch it with me?”

“I’d love that.”

We walk together toward the water, leaving behind the noise of the crowd for a secluded spot on the beach.

“Do you mind if we stay away from the crowd?” I ask.

“No, this is wonderful, Leo.”

The boats are gathered, lined up along the shore, and decked out in thousands of twinkling lights. They reflect off the water, shimmering like something out of a dream.

We stand, watching the boats slowly move, their lights casting rippling patterns over the dark water. I glance at Willa and see her eyes wide, her expression soft and thoughtful as she watches the lights.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, almost to herself.

“Yeah,” I agree, though I’m not talking about the boats.

For a moment, the world feels small, contained to just this beach and this woman beside me. The distance between us narrows, and when she shivers slightly from the cold, I can’t resist the urge to put an arm around her.

She glimpses up at me, catching me watching her, and smiles softly. “Thanks for all of this. I didn’t think tonight would turn out like this.”

“Me either,” I say quietly. “But I’m glad it did.”

We stay until the last boat has drifted past, then start the walk back together, neither of us in any hurry to end the evening. The town has quieted, most people having gone home after the parade, leaving the streets empty.

I glance at her as we walk, taking in the way she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the soft smile that seems to linger on her lips. And I realize I don’t want this to be the last time I see her.

I stop, turning to face her. She tilts her head, waiting.

“Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?” I ask, feeling a little more than a little nervous. “I know a place. It’s not…fancy, but it’s quiet. Somewhere we could talk.”

Her smile widens, and she nods. “I’d love that.”

“I’ll walk you to your door.”

Her place isn’t far, just a few streets over, and the silence between us is comfortable, filled with unspoken things that don’t need to be hurried. When we reach her front steps, she turns to face me, her expression is a mix of excitement and a little uncertainty.

“Well, thank you,” she says, her voice softer now, just about a whisper. “For tonight. For walking me home and for the hot chocolate.”

I nod.

We stand there for a moment, neither of us quite moving, and then —because I can’t stand to leave without doing something— I lean down and press a gentle kiss to her cheek, letting my lips linger for just seconds.

When I pull back, she’s looking at me, her eyes warm and bright. And before I can talk myself out of it, I lean down again, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. She responds, her hand resting on my shoulder, her lips soft and warm against mine.

When we pull away from each other, I’m breathless, my heart racing. She smiles, looking just as stunned as I feel.

“Goodnight, Leo,” she whispers.

“Goodnight, Willa.”

I wait until she’s safely inside, then turn, the smile on my face refusing to fade. For the first time in a long time, I feel lighter, as if tonight has left me with something I hadn’t realized I was missing.

As I walk back to my cottage, I can still taste the faint sweetness of her kiss, and I know, without a doubt, that this holiday escape has become something far more important than I ever expected.