Chapter 15

15

JACE

T he bitter cold of morning had crept into the lodge, bringing a draft that whispered through the rafters like a harbinger of change. Jace stood by the stone hearth, the fire crackling defiance against the chill. In his hands, he held another ostentatious envelope from Sapphire Development, the edges sharp and unyielding as the intentions behind it.

"Persistent, aren't they?" he mused aloud, his voice tinged with annoyance. The paper crumpled in his grasp, the gold embossed logo distorting under his touch. With a swift motion borne out of frustration, he fed the proposal to the flames. The fire licked eagerly at the edges, consuming this newest proposal with fervor until nothing remained but ash and the bitter scent of charred ambition.

As the last remnants of it curled and blackened, Jace's thoughts turned, unbidden, to Felicity. Her laugh was like a melody that lingered in his mind, soft and entrancing. She had this way about her, an earnestness that made him want to believe in things long since forgotten. Her eyes, a clear blue reminiscent of crisp winter mornings, saw through the facades people wore, including his own.

"Love should be wild and unrestrained, like a storm over the ocean," she once told him, quoting from one of the many novels that lined her shelves. He remembered the way her fingers danced along the spines of her beloved books, each touch a testament to the dreams and aspirations she’d shared with him about someday becoming a successful romance novelist.

"Wild and unrestrained," Jace repeated softly, the words falling into the space between memory and presence. With Felicity, love seemed possible—like a promise whispered on the cusp of dawn.

A sudden intrusion shattered the moment, the door opening with purposeful force. Heather, his ex, stepped inside with the confidence of someone who never understood the word 'no.' Her smile was a practiced curve of lips, devoid of any real warmth.

"Jace, darling, you can't ignore me forever," she cooed, her voice like honey laced with venom.

“Can’t I?” he rejoined. He would have liked to have said he’d never received any kind of communication from her since coming to Vermont, but he couldn’t—he’d simply ignored them.

Behind her, a stunning blonde entered, her presence commanding attention. "Candace Prescott," Heather introduced, gesturing towards the woman with an air of triumph. "Sapphire Development. My company is helping Candace’s company in developing some properties here in the Northeast."

‘Pretty on the outside,’ Jace thought, He doubted there was anything pretty about Candace Prescott on the inside. Her eyes held a ruthlessness that felt more chilling than the winter air outside. They were the eyes of someone who viewed people as stepping stones rather than souls. She reminded him of a blonde version of Cruella De Vil.

"Your persistence is noted, but not welcome," Jace said flatly, his gaze unwavering. "I've no interest in you, your proposals, or your company."

Candace’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. It was the sort of smile that hinted at darker things, a predator baring its teeth before it pounced. "You're making a mistake, Mr. Winterborne. I always get what I want, one way or another."

"Not this time, and is that a threat?"

"Consider it a prophecy," Candace replied, tilting her head slightly, her golden hair catching the flicker of the firelight.

Her hair was almost the same color as Felicity’s, but where Felicity’s was all wild and bouncing curls, Candace Prescott’s was sleek and straight with only a slight wave he was sure had been produced by some sort of curling iron.

"Prophecies don’t always come true," Jace countered, turning his back on them both. He couldn't help but think how Felicity would have hated this exchange—the conflict, the harsh words, the underlying malice. She liked stories with heart, tales that spoke of the human spirit and its capacity for love.

"Tell me, Miss Prescott," Jace said staring into the fire without turning around to look at them again, "do you believe in happy endings?"

"Only when they benefit me," came the cool reply.

Jace chuckled without humor. A part of him knew that the battle lines were being drawn, that the fight for Northwind Lodge was only just beginning. But in that moment, all he could think about was the way Felicity's eyes would light up when they talked about the future and how he envisioned the Northwind and how it could help the village itself, and how she believed so fiercely in happy endings.

The lodge was his dream, his second chance—and Heather was a chapter he had closed. Yet here she was, threatening to reopen old wounds with her mere presence.

“Jace, you’re behaving foolishly. You should at least hear what Candace has to say.”

"I’m not interested," Jace insisted, turning back to them and holding Prescott’s gaze. She was a woman who thrived on control, on getting under people's skin. But he wasn't the same man that Heather had probably described. Northwind Lodge was his future, and nothing could sway him from that path.

Jace's gaze shifted from Prescott to Heather and back again. She really was stunning in a cool, patrician sort of way, the kind of beauty that seemed almost ethereal against the rustic backdrop of the lodge.

"Why are you still standing here? I thought I’d made myself clear. You and your proposals aren't welcome here." Jace's words sliced through the air, leaving no room for misunderstanding. He snorted, a sound that held no humor, only dismissal. "Take your business elsewhere and don’t come back."

Heather's eyes narrowed, the malice within them sparking like flint. "Jace, be reasonable. This is a generous offer, and Candace is just trying to…"

"Northwind Lodge isn't for sale," Jace stated unequivocally, his eyes simmering with anger. He turned his back on them, the action deliberate, a physical barrier to their persistence. The lodge was his haven, his passion project, not some corporate asset to be bargained over. It represented a life he was painstakingly rebuilding, one far removed from the cutthroat world Heather and Candace thrived in.

When he didn’t hear them move away, he looked over his shoulder.

Candace's smile wavered, her poise faltering for a split second before she regained her composure. "We'll be in touch, Mr. Winterborne," she said, though her voice lacked its former confidence.

He wandered over to one of the large windows on the front of the lodge, watching them leave. After they’d done so, Jace returned to the fire, clasping his hands behind his back, his unwanted encounters weighing heavily on his broad shoulders. The renovation beckoned to him with a promise of renewal and refuge, and he was keen to immerse himself in the work that grounded him.

"Tom, Mike," Jace called out, spotting the two young men he'd hired to help restore Northwind Lodge to its former glory. They were up on ladders, diligently sanding down the aged wood beams that crisscrossed the high ceiling. Their dedication was like a soothing balm to his ruffled spirit.

"Hey, boss!" Tom's voice echoed through the spacious room, a hint of sawdust swirling around him like a halo of hard work. "How's it looking from down there?"

"Like you're breathing new life into this old place," Jace responded, his voice tinged with pride. "Just remember, we're aiming for rustic charm, not splinter hazards."

Mike chuckled, brushing his palms together, sending a shower of wood particles cascading downward. "No worries, Jace. We've got it under control."

"Good to hear," Jace nodded, his gaze sweeping across the lodge's interior. It was coming together, piece by piece, just like the puzzle of his own life. Felicity had become an unexpected piece of that puzzle, her presence bringing warmth to the coldest corners of his heart. He thought of her smile, the way it seemed to hold secrets and promises all at once. How she spoke of love as if it were a tangible thing, something he could reach out and touch—if only he dared to believe in it again.

"Boss, you okay?" Mike's question pulled Jace back from the brink of his musings.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jace replied.

"All right then; we'll wrap up here soon," Tom assured him, dipping his head in acknowledgment before returning to his task.

Jace's hands were rough and steady as he lifted the wooden plank into place, his muscles flexing under the weight. The lodge's bones needed tending, much like his own heart—both weathered by storms but still standing strong.

"You gotta admit, those ladies were something else,” said Mike. “That one called Heather was gorgeous, but her friend? Damn. That girl could fuel many a fantasy on a long, winter’s night."

"Pretty is as pretty does," Jace murmured, driving a nail into the wood with a decisive thump. The phrase echoed in his mind, a mantra reminding him that beauty on the surface often masked a treacherous undertow. He knew all too well the allure of a beguiling exterior and the hidden thorns such roses concealed.

"True that," the young man conceded, shrugging before turning back to his work.

Jace took a deep breath ready to tackle the rest of the day. "Damn," he muttered. “I almost forgot. Boys? I’ve got to run. They’re judging the baking contest today.”

"And the winner of this year’s Regional Bake-Off is... Felicity Hart, with her Pecan Cream Pie!" the judge announced, lifting her arm as if he were presenting the newly elected champion of the town.

Jace stood in the crowd, pulling his scarf tighter against the December chill as he watched Felicity at the front of the small stage, her face frozen in shock. Snowflakes drifted down in soft swirls, settling on her curls, giving her a halo under the mid-day sun as it cast its light across Christmas Valley’s village square. The crowd clapped and cheered, but Felicity seemed rooted to the spot, eyes wide as if she couldn’t believe her own ears.

A grin tugged at Jace’s lips as he watched her stand there, still clutching the ribbon and envelope as though someone might take them back. He didn’t understand why she looked so stunned. Ever since he’d moved here, he’d known her baked goods were special. Jace had seen the way she worked at Cozy Cravings, pouring as much care into each dessert as she did into her notebooks full of story ideas.

"Way to go, Felicity!" he heard Ivy call, her voice ringing out, pulling Felicity from her trance. Jace couldn’t help but laugh at the look of surprise on Felicity’s face as the crowd surged forward to congratulate her. When their eyes met, he raised a gloved hand in a thumbs-up, his heart warming at her shy but delighted smile.

As she stepped down from the stage, Felicity wove through the crowd, cheeks flushed, looking more alive than he’d ever seen her. She caught sight of him and gave a little shrug, her eyes wide with disbelief. “I… I didn’t even think I’d make it past the first round,” she said, clutching the blue ribbon tightly.

“Well, I guess the judges disagreed,” Jace said, unable to stop grinning. “You deserve it, Felicity. That pie… best I’ve ever had.”

Felicity looked up, her eyes shining as the lights danced across her face, and Jace felt his heart twist a little. There was magic in this place, he thought, but today, most of it seemed to be right here, in the glow of her smile. Giving her a hug and a kiss, he left her in Ivy’s capable hands so he could return to the lodge and get some work done.

“I’ll see you this evening at the Christmas market,” he said.

As dusk fell, Jace made his way toward the town's Christmas market, the scent of pine and the sound of laughter drawing him like a siren's call. It was there, amidst the bustle of festive stalls and twinkling lights, that he saw her.

Felicity stood alone, her eyes seeming to reflect the fairy lights as they shimmered like a constellation captured in blue pools. There was an ethereal quality to her, a gentle glow that seemed at odds with the world's harsher edges. She cradled a snow globe in her hands, the miniature world inside swirling with false snowflakes—a perfect, untouchable dream.

Jace watched her, struck by the profound difference between this moment and the ones he'd shared with Heather and Candace earlier. Felicity, with her quiet cafes and old bookstores, her soft sweaters and tentative smiles, was a living testament to the sincerity he craved. In her presence, the shadows of his past receded, replaced by the promise of a future rich with genuine affection and shared dreams.

He approached her, drawn by an invisible thread woven through their many encounters—a thread spun from the golden fabric of possibility. They exchanged no words; none were needed.

Jace's steps slowed as he neared Felicity, the soft crunch of snow beneath his boots a subtle prelude to what his heart urged him to do. The Christmas market bustled with energy, but in her immediate vicinity, time seemed to decelerate, allowing him to savor the anticipation that tightened his chest.

He stood behind her for a moment longer than necessary, inhaling deeply. The scent of roasting chestnuts mingled with the crisp winter air, yet it was Felicity’s fragrance—a delicate blend of vanilla and spice—that truly filled his senses, grounding him in the now.

"Beautiful night," he murmured, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath against the curve of her neck.

Felicity turned, and her smile blossomed like the first flower after a long winter. "It's perfect," she whispered back, her eyes reflecting the myriad of fairy lights strung above the market stalls.

Without another word, Jace reached out, his fingers gently brushing against her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw. Felicity’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact. Then, with a tenderness that belied the strength in his hands, he drew her closer. Their lips met in a passionate kiss that seemed to ignite the very air around them. It was as if they were the only two people in the world, lost in the magic of their connection.

Above them, the northern lights unfurled across the sky, ribbons of green and purple that danced to the rhythm of their hearts. The aurora borealis cast an otherworldly glow over the scene, illuminating them in its ethereal light.

At that moment, carolers nearby began a soulful rendition of ‘I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,’ their voices rising and falling in harmony. The melody wrapped around Jace and Felicity, cocooning them in a blanket of sound that seemed composed just for them.

As their kiss deepened, Jace felt something shift within him. Walls he had built crumbled; the pain of past betrayals lessened under the assault of Felicity's gentle persistence. In her embrace, he found not just warmth, but a fiery passion that promised to withstand the coldest of winters.

They parted slowly, reluctantly, their foreheads resting together while they caught their breath. Jace brushed a thumb over her flushed cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin and the way she seemed to lean into his touch.

"Thank you," Felicity murmured, her voice barely audible over the continued serenade of the carolers.

"For what?" Jace asked, his voice low and laced with wonder.

"For being here this morning, for making me believe," she said, her gaze locked with his, "that some dreams might just be worth chasing."

And as the northern lights shimmered across the night sky, their glow dancing like promises waiting to be kept, Jace stood beneath the weight of the winter evening’s stillness. The carolers’ distant song carried on the cold breeze, wrapping the world in tradition and longing. He stared at the horizon toward where he knew the Northwind Lodge was located and realized with a startling clarity that his greatest adventure wasn’t waiting out there. It was right here, daring him to open his heart before it slipped through his fingers like snow on warm skin.