Page List


Font:  

“Elvis and my idiot keep me running.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Elvis?”

She flipped a massive braid over her shoulder, the color almost as pure as the snow lining the streets. “Don’t go there. I blame my fiancé for the name. I was delirious from giving birth, and he took advantage of me.”

Ellie absently stepped closer to me as people flowed around us. The band was taking a break, and everyone was looking for refreshments. I curled my arm around her back. She didn’t shy away, so I counted that as a win.

Ellie’s hand brushed my belt. “I caught Ian holding court.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “I tried to convince him to stay home, but I think he likes seeing people act stupid over him. He’s walking the baby around now. Motion usually knocks him out.”

“Stick me in the car when I’m not driving, and I’m out like a light.” Ellie glanced up at me. “Leaded or unleaded?”

I turned to Zoe. “There’s an option?”

She waggled her eyebrows. “My brothers are into the cider and beer deal now too. We have some of those on tap as well.”

“Think I’m frozen enough to go for some warm unleaded.”

That was evidently the right answer. Ellie nodded. “Same.”

“Coming up.”

The line prevented more chitchat, and the two women waved goodbye. I glanced around for somewhere to sit. “Why don’t we go by the water? I haven’t been able to get down to see the big Christmas tree at the end of the pier. I started that way earlier, but the crowds were too thick.”

“It’s chilly out there.”

“Now we’ve got warm cider, right?”

“Anything you want.”

She scraped her teeth over her lower lip before we crossed the lawn to head toward the pier. We were quiet as we sipped from our drinks. The sharp apple with a cinnamon finish was probably the best cider I’d had in a damn long time. I’d finished more than half of mine by the time we stepped onto the pier.

The breeze off the water was brisk, but not nearly as icy as I’d been expecting.

She drew in a lungful of air. “Snow soon.”

I grinned down at her. “You can smell snow?”

“Not hard in a lake town. It’s nearly every day. But a bit of warmth is always followed by snowflakes.”

Cool LED white lights lined the railings of the long pier to the spectacular tree at the end. It was decked out in the fat, vintage Christmas lights like the gazebo. Huge gold and silver stars were tucked in the branches and were probably wired in there to combat the pull of the wind off the water.

But from here, it was like walking into an old postcard, and I appreciated the nostalgia and tradition. So many trees were glammed up and pink these days that it was nice to see something reminiscent of a classic Christmas.

The closer we got to the tree, the softer her face became. “I didn’t get to do the tree thing very often as a kid.”

I wasn’t sure if I should ask for details, but the fact that she’d volunteered something about herself made me wary about screwing up. “Not into holidays?” Though that didn’t seem right based on her pure happiness over the decorations and festivities.

“I learned not to be.” She leaned on the railing next to the tree and stared across the water. “When I was a teenager, I used to look across the lake and wonder what it was like to be in one of those houses.” She pointed to a large home lit up as if it embodied Christmas. “Like the Hamilton house out there. Every holiday, it looked like a postcard. And then in the summer, it was always bustling with posh parties.”

“Do you want posh parties?”

She glanced up at me. “Not really my thing. But that house over there…” She pointed to the other side of the lake then braced her arm on the railing and propped her chin on her hand. “That house is more me. Those turrets and skinny windows mixed with grand ones. It’s got those gingerbread details and a wraparound porch.”

I followed where she pointed. It was decked out for Christmas, but instead of the pristine white lights like the Hamilton house she’d pointed out first, it had huge bulbs I could see from where we were. They lined the roofline, accentuating the sharp angles of the Victorian-style home. “Not usually the kind of house you see on a lake.”

“No. It’s such an odd little place in the middle of all the traditional Cape Cod styles and super ultra rich people with their modern mansions. And of course the condos that have infiltrated the Cove lately.”


Tags: Taryn Quinn Crescent Cove Romance