Chapter Three

Juniper

My heart was racing, my skin tingling with a kind of electric charge.

"Junie," murmured Mason, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down my spine. His rugged hands, so capable and sure, cradled my face gently, thumbs stroking my cheeks in a tender caress. I hadn't been touched like this in so long, maybe not ever.

I gazed into those piercing eyes of his, seeing the reflection of my own longing mirrored back at me. A part of me – a very reckless part—wanted to drown in that gaze, to lose myself in the promise of his kiss, to forget...

My phone shattered the silence, its shrill ring slicing through the magic like a knife. I flinched, reluctantly pulling back from Mason's embrace to fumble for the offending device in my purse. "Sorry, I have to take this," I said, the apology laced with frustration.

"Of course," Mason replied, stepping back with a patient smile that somehow only intensified my desire to stay right where I was.

"Hello?" I answered, trying to mask the annoyance in my voice.

"Juniper Anne McCall, where are you?" My mother's voice came through in its usual blend of concern and exasperation. In the background, the high-pitched bickering of Brayden and Angela formed a familiar cacophony.

"Mom, I'm on my way. I got stuck in the storm, but it's let up now." I rolled my eyes, glancing apologetically at Mason as if he could hear the chaos on the other end of the line, which he probably could.

"Be careful driving, and hurry up, for goodness' sake. Your sister needs you."

"Got it, Mom. See you soon." I ended the call and sighed, tucking my phone away. The interruption had doused the flames of passion completely, a sourness settling in my stomach.

"Trouble in paradise?" Mason asked, a twinkle of amusement in his eye.

"Something like that." I managed a half-smile, feeling the pull of family obligations tugging me away from what might have been.

"I don't want to keep you. Let me bring your SUV around," he said.

"Thanks, Mason. You're too good to me." I reached out, giving his hand a grateful squeeze, wishing silently for another chance to feel his lips against mine.

A few minutes later, I watched from the glass door at the front of the shop as Mason drove up in my SUV. Bundled up again in my coat and boots, I exited the garage and met him as he climbed out of my vehicle and waited, holding the driver's side door open for me.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and smooth as I approached, "when can I see you again?"

I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "I don't know. I guess whenever works."

"Would you be up for the holiday market on the square this weekend?" The hope in his eyes was the kind that made me think of cozy fires and mistletoe. "I've got to find something for my siblings, and I'm hopeless at gifts. Maybe you could help?"

The idea was unexpectedly appealing. The holiday market was always bustling with cheer and twinkling lights, a perfect place to wander with someone like Mason. Plus, helping him pick out presents would give us more time together, time I suddenly found myself craving.

"I'd love to," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. "Sounds fun, actually."

"Great!" The relief in his voice matched the smile that lit up his rugged features. "It's a date then. I'll pick you up for the grand opening on Saturday?"

"Saturday it is," I confirmed, feeling a flutter in my stomach. It wasn't just the chill in the air that had me shivering now.

"Perfect." Mason's grin was infectious, and I couldn't help but return it.

As I watched him turn to the garage, I couldn't shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, this Christmas was going to be different.

The engine hummed a low, contented note as I steered the Honda down the snow-dusted streets of Springfield. Mason had even taken the time to wipe down the dashboard, and the faint scent of pine-scented cleaner mingled with the leather interior reminded me of winter forests.

Pulling up to Candi's house, a two-story affair she'd moved into after I moved into the freshman dorm at U of I, with frosted windows and eaves hung with icicles that caught the late afternoon sunlight like prisms, I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. My niece and nephew's faces were pressed against the glass, fogging it up as they waved frantically at my arrival.

"Aunt Juniper's here!" I heard them squeal, their excitement seeping through the walls.

"Hey, munchkins," I greeted as I stepped out into the biting air, my breath forming little clouds in front of me.

"Juniper, thank goodness," Ginger called out from the doorway, her voice a soothing balm amidst the chaos of small, excitable children. She stood there, cradling her prominent belly with one hand, the other pushing back a stray curl of auburn hair that had escaped her loose bun. Pregnancy suited her—she glowed with it, her skin radiant and her hazel eyes bright.

"Hey, Gingerbread," I teased lightly, using the nickname I'd given her when we were kids. It always managed to draw out a smile, even now.

"Be nice," she chided with a gentle laugh, though the sparkle in her eyes told me she didn't mind. "Brian's on late shift again, so it's just us girls."

"Sounds like a party." I leaned in for a careful hug, mindful of her belly. "How you holding up?"

"Like a champ," Ginger replied, though the edges of exhaustion were there, in the slight droop of her shoulders and the way she leaned against the doorframe. But true to form, she was all grace and poise, the picture of perfection through and through.

"Let's get you inside before you turn into a popsicle," I said, ushering her back into the warmth. The kids bounced around us, full of questions and stories about school, about Santa, about everything.

As I helped Ginger settle onto the couch and hand out cups of cocoa with mounds of marshmallows on top to Brayden and Angela, I let my mind drift back to the kiss that had been so rudely interrupted by my phone's insistent ring. The soft pressure of Mason's lips lingered on mine, a promise of things yet to come.

"Earth to Juniper," Ginger teased, pulling me back from the brink of daydreams. "You've got this look... Oh, don't tell me. Is there a new man in your life?"

Her intuition was uncanny. A blush crept up my neck. My sister always saw right through me.

"Maybe," I conceded with a reluctant smirk, deciding that a little truth wouldn't hurt. "I'll tell you all about him later."

"Ooh, I'm holding you to that," Ginger warned playfully, but there was a light in her eyes—a shared sisterly moment that softened the years of strain between us.

"Deal," I agreed, feeling the weight of old hurts lessening. Maybe this Christmas would be the start of more than just a romance. Perhaps it could be a new chapter for us all.

I heard the door to the attached garage off the kitchen open and shut. There was whoosh of cold air and the sound of packages being dropped, and the next moment I knew, my mother's arms were circled around me—a gesture that hovered somewhere between an affectionate embrace and a critical appraisal. "Juniper, darling," Candi murmured against my cheek, her voice laced with the soft cluck of disapproval. She pulled back, her fingers tugging at one of my stray curls. I bit my lip, not having glanced in the mirror since visiting the bathroom in the automotive shop briefly after waking up.

"When was the last time you treated this beautiful hair of yours?" she continued.

"Hi, Mom," I managed, fighting the instinct to squirm under her gaze as she scrutinized my baggy jeans and oversized sweatshirt. Her nose wrinkled ever so slightly, but her smile never faltered.

"Your sister and I are getting pampered today," she announced, a gleam in her eye as she glanced over at Ginger, who looked up from where she sat, serenely sipping her tea. "Manis, pedis—the works. A few of the Delta Nu alumnae are joining us."

"Sounds lovely," I replied, feigning enthusiasm while internally bracing for the familiar wave of inadequacy that always seemed to crest in my mother's presence.

"Of course, we need someone to watch Brayden and Angela, keep them entertained. And perhaps start on supper?" The suggestion hung in the air, not quite a request.

"Sure, I can do that," I agreed with a nod, already slipping into the role I knew all too well—the dutiful daughter, the family's reliable anchor.

"Wonderful," Candi said, patting my knee. "I knew you could help. I just came back from the store. The rest of the groceries are still in the trunk. Now, I need to go powder my nose before the girls arrive."

Sighing, I got up to retrieve the bags while my mother retreated upstairs.

As the sorority sisters arrived, laughter and chatter filled the foyer. Elegantly dressed and coiffed, they swept in like a perfumed breeze, surrounding Ginger with exclamations over her radiant pregnancy glow. My mother stood among them, the proud matriarch, basking in the reflected light of their admiration.

"Let's not keep the salon waiting," Candi declared, herding the group toward the door with a final, "Behave for Auntie Juniper, kids."

"Bye, Mommy!" Brayden and Angela called out in unison before turning to me with mischievous grins. Their energy was infectious, even if it spelled trouble.

"Alright, you two," I started, channeling every ounce of authority I could muster. "How about a game? Whoever can build the tallest tower with these blocks gets to pick the story for me to read to you later."

"Yay!" They cheered, diving into the challenge with gusto. For a while, the room was a whirlwind of color and noise as blocks rose into wobbly skyscrapers.

"Mine's the biggest!" Brayden declared, his tower teetering precariously.

"Nu-uh, mine is!" Angela protested, and just like that, the competitive spark threatened to ignite into sibling rivalry.

"Hey, hey," I interrupted before things could escalate. "You both did amazing. Now, how about we settle down and I read you a story?"

"Can it be 'The Night Before Christmas'?" Angela asked, her eyes wide with hope.

"Of course," I smiled, welcoming the reprieve as they snuggled close on the sectional, one on each side of me, and the familiar words flowed, weaving a spell of peace and anticipation over the room. As their squabbles faded into quiet listening, I felt the tension ease from my shoulders.

This was what mattered—these simple moments of connection. And as I read to them, the echo of Mason's kiss lingered, a reminder that there might be more warmth waiting for me this season than just the comfort of family traditions. I couldn't wait for a chance to explore this new chemistry we had further. I'd dated here and there at college and after I moved to Baltimore, but it had been months since I'd shared a bed with a man.

"Aunt Junie, we missed you!" Angela's voice was muffled against my sweater as she clung to me like a koala. Brayden, not to be outdone, wrapped his little arms around my waist from the other side.

"I missed you too, munchkins," I whispered, kissing the top of their heads, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo and innocence—a contrast to the musky cologne that still lingered on my skin from Mason's embrace. "I'm glad to be back for Christmas."

"Promise you'll stay forever?" Brayden looked up at me with those big brown eyes, so much like my father's, and my heart panged with emotion.

"Forever's a long time, buddy. But I'll be here for all the Christmas magic," I reassured him, hoping it sounded more convincing to him than it did to me. The room seemed to glow with the warmth of the Christmas lights from the tree standing beside the piano in front of the living room's huge picture window.

"Can we watch Santa movies before dinner?" Angela's request snapped me back to the present.

"Sure thing, sweetie," I said, closing the book and placing it back onto the shelf. As the screen lit up with animated reindeer and a jolly Santa, I tucked a throw blanket around my niece and nephew, watching their eyelids grow heavy. I left the room dim, the TV casting a soft light over their peaceful faces and tiptoed into the kitchen leaving them to their nap.

Leaning against the cold granite counter, I let myself replay the moment Mason's lips had met mine—unexpectedly sweet and laden with promises of more. The shiver that ran down my spine wasn't from the chill outside; it was anticipation, desire curling warmly in my belly. I couldn't wait for Saturday.

A vindictive smile tugged at my lips as I imagined running into Troy and Paris there. How satisfying it would be to see the surprise on Troy's face when he saw me, not pining and heartbroken, but radiant with new-found happiness. And there was no denying the petty part of me that wanted Paris, with her surgically perfected beauty, to sense that she hadn't won completely. That I could still catch someone's eye—even someone as genuine and grounded as Mason.

But the thought of Paris brought a familiar pang of jealousy, a shadow that dimmed my inner gloating. Maybe it was time to take Mom's advice—to indulge in a bit of self-care. A fresh haircut and manicure wouldn't just be about vanity; it would be a step towards healing, towards reclaiming my own worth that Troy's betrayal had left in tatters that I'd never taken the time to mend.

"Who knows, maybe a new look will give me the boost I need," I murmured to myself, opening the fridge and pulling out ingredients for dinner. As I chopped vegetables, my mind danced between recipes and the possibilities of what Saturday with Mason could bring. With every slice, I felt a piece of the old heartache fall away, making room for new beginnings.