Page 18 of A Very Titan Christmas (Titan #14)

Heaven was taking off the tightly laced ice skates. Rachel tried to hide the groan of relief that came from pulling her feet free, but she didn’t manage it. Bryce snickered and was in his shoes before she’d managed to wriggle her toes.

Rachel shoved her hands into her mittens and stood up, not thrilled with the way her legs felt like squishy marshmallows. “Do you feel like you’re still on ice?”

“No.”

“My, my. You’re an ice-skating overachiever.”

He didn’t triumphantly smirk as much as smile to himself and adjust his gloves, but Rachel was sure that he would gloat over his superior skating skills given the chance.

“You ready to head back?” Bryce asked.

“Want to look at the Christmas tree?”

“Is this a work-research thing?” He shrugged. “If not, seen one Christmas tree, seen them all.”

Her mouth fell open. “That’s a little antithetical to the season, don’t ya think?”

He shrugged again and glanced over his shoulder. “It looks like every other big-assed Christmas tree.”

“Do you hate the holidays?”

“You’re asking me that because I don’t want to stare at a tree?”

Her gaze narrowed. “You’re grumpier than I remember.”

“You’re a lot of things that I don’t remember.”

She was too wary to ask for clarification. “Do you like the holidays?”

“No,” he answered quickly and, perhaps registering how her jaw hit the sidewalk, amended, “I don’t hate the holidays, Rachel. I just have no interest in a holly, jolly season.”

“So you’re a grinch.”

His eye roll was hard enough to start a rockslide in the mountains if he wasn’t careful. “You’re being overdramatic. Is it so hard to appreciate that not everyone loves the holidays and all the happy-go-lucky expectations that come with them?”

“Yeah, it kind of is.”

“Well, lucky for you. Everything in your life is relatively simple. You have a job you like—”

“That I love,” she corrected.

“Love,” he amended. “A hometown that you love. A city that you live in that you love. Parents who drive you crazy, but again, they’re parents who you love.” He gestured to Main Street. “Your life is ideal. Christmas can be just like the movies.”

“Fine. Your parents are flakes—”

“To put it mildly.”

“But they can’t be why you hate an entire season, Bryce. You can’t blame family.”

“You’re right,” he said as though he didn’t mean it. “You ready to go?”

She grabbed his arm. “You can’t just run out on a Christmas tree—”

“I don’t run from anything.”

“You ran from me, or don’t you remember that?”

“Fuckin’ hell, Rachel. I don’t know how many different ways to tell you I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“By running?”

“I wasn’t running. My parents were significantly, categorically—hell, metaphysically—different than yours.

We never stayed in the same place. I had zero stability at home.

And you had”—he gestured to the entire town—“a place that wasn’t going anywhere.

Parents who were too involved in your life.

That were too involved in my life. You never had to pick up and leave.

You never had to start over every single year.

That is a privilege you had that Montana and I never had. ”

He flinched as if he’d said too much, but Rachel wouldn’t let him get away with the excuses. “You know what? Call Montana. Tell him to come up here. We’ll have a reunion, and you can kick your bad mood down the road and deal with it after you leave here.”

“Montana died in a car accident years ago. He’s not showing up to cheer up the season.” Bryce turned and walked toward the car.

Rachel didn’t move. She didn’t know how to proceed. The hurt on his face ripped into her chest. She snapped out of it and ran after him. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged her off. “It’s fine. You didn’t know.”

“I didn’t,” she said, trying to keep pace. “I don’t know what to say.”

They stopped by their vehicle. “There’s nothing to say.

It happened. It’s part of life. Some people get dealt great cards.

” He gestured to her. “Some get shitty hands.” Bryce shrugged.

“I have a job that I like. I’m retired from the military, where they gave me everything I needed.

Stability. Order. Understanding. And an expectation of what day in and day out would look like.

I’m not the kid you knew in high school.

I like solitude. I have no room for distractions.

No room for relationships and no room for the holidays. ”

Rachel swallowed the ache at the back of her throat. She chewed on her bottom lip and wanted to tell him she was sorry one more time but thought that would be patronizing. “You must think my article is so stupid. So trivial and ridiculous.”

“I don’t.” Silence lingered. “I’ll help you with this thing with your parents, but don’t try to turn me into someone I’m not. Someone who is part of a big, happy, albeit over-the-top family who loves December in Silverberry Ridge.”

“Okay.” She rolled her lips together.

“Okay,” he said flatly.

“Maybe you’ll enjoy it here if…” She had no words. “We’ll just pretend—” She bit off some stupid sentiment about enjoying life and that Montana would be happy if Bryce weren’t miserable and alone.

“Rachel, I’ve been here a little more than a week.

I’m gone in another three. You can’t save me.

You can’t change me. You can accept me for who I am, and we can continue to fool Eloise, if that’s what you want.

But I can’t give you anything more than that.

I can’t really be the man you think I am or should be. ”

She stomped her boot. “Who said anything about saving your grumpy ass? About changing it? All I said was enjoy the damn tree with me.”

His gaze swept over Main Street. The lamps had flickered on, and the wind had picked up. Fewer people were strolling the sidewalks, but more laughter and voices floated from the ice rink and near the Christmas tree. “I said too much, all right?”

All the fight in her tapered out. She had also said too much. “I’m sorry. You’re doing me a favor.”

He raised his chin and opened her door. “Ready?”

“Bryce, really. I… I shouldn’t have brought up the breakup. It was years ago, and honestly, I get what you’re saying. Grown-up me understands. High-school me was hurt, and I guess some of that bled over just now. I’m sorry.”

He urged her into the passenger seat. “It’s fine.”

It didn’t feel fine. It felt like she’d crossed a line and pushed him to say more than he was comfortable with. She wanted to return to their goofy time on the ice. Bryce shut her door.

Every mile of the drive back to the resort felt more uncomfortable than the last. She wouldn’t bring up their breakup again.

That was immature and pointless. And she was heartbroken for Bryce.

Montana had died, and she’d had no idea.

She would have had no reason to know, but that didn’t lessen the ache in her chest.

Bryce reached over and grabbed her hand. “I shouldn’t have told you about Montana like that.” He squeezed her hand. “He’d probably want to kick my ass for throwing it out like that and bailing.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that.”

He gave her hand one last squeeze before he let it go—and hit the brakes. Bryce checked the mirrors and made a U-turn.

“What are we doing?”

“We’re going to go look at the Christmas tree.” He checked the time on his watch. “After it gets dark.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was being an ass. I don’t know why.” He drove toward Main Street. “We’ll go see that artist co-op you mentioned, then it will be dark enough for the lights to look good.”

They reached Main Street again and parked in front of Tinsel and Toys. “This is where the teddy bear tea will be,” Rachel said.

He let her guide him to the artisan co-op, and then, like a veritable saint, he stayed by her side as she made her way through the building, taking photographs and picking up business cards as she went.

“That was riveting stuff, huh?” he teased when they were back on Main Street.

“I think it was very fun.”

He grinned. “I think you’re very fun. Even if we had to stare at pieces of fabric—”

“Textiles.”

“Okay, textiles for an hour.”

“Thanks for going in there with me. I got great photos and a ton of work done.”

They bumped into the mayor on the sidewalk. “Rachel, hello, hello. So nice to see you again.”

“Mayor Fowler,” she said. “It’s nice to see you again too.” She made introductions, “Bryce, this is our town mayor.”

Mayor Fowler extended his hand to Bryce. “Ah, of course. Eloise told me your boyfriend was visiting our little town. Nice to meet you; nice to meet you. Hope you’re enjoying Silverberry Ridge as much as your beautiful girlfriend.”

Rachel blushed.

Bryce took her hand after their handshake. “It’s great. Thanks. Rach was just telling me about the Christmas tree and the teddy bear tea.”

“Ah, would you like to hang an ornament?” the mayor asked.

“Oh no, I don’t want to impose.”

“No, no imposition. Follow me to my office, and we’ll get you set up.”

Bryce glanced at Rachel and shrugged. “Sure, sounds good.”

Mayor Fowler walked ahead of them to the little town hall building. Bryce held Rachel’s hand as they navigated the icy brick sidewalk. The sun was dipping, and the afternoon shadows were drawing long.

“Just in here.” The mayor opened a tall, white door with long windows and an old brass doorknob.

“I have all the supplies in the break room for just this occasion. This is what we do. Sit, sit.” He gestured for them to sit at the old, oversized wooden table.

“Rachel, you should do this, too, since you missed our decorating party.”

Bryce pulled out her chair before taking his own.

“Town tradition says this.” He handed Bryce a slip of paper.

“Jot down something you’re thankful for during the holidays, and then pop the note into the ornament.

” He pointed to the boxes of metallic ornaments in dozens of colors.

“Close it up and grab one of those little hanger jobber-dobbers, and when you hang the ornament on the tree, make a holiday wish. That simple.”

Mayor Fowler handed Rachel a slip of paper.

She’d never before overthought what she would write.

Suddenly, it felt weirdly personal, as if she should hide her paper like it was a secret ballot.

She considered writing about her holiday cover story and the cute agendas Eloise had come up with, but that wasn’t what made her happiest over the holidays.

Bryce scribbled his note and turned it over before walking to the boxes of ornaments.

So it was like a secret ballot. She wrote out her message and turned over the paper as well. Bryce chose a bright blue ornament. She chose a bright green one. They returned to the table as the mayor’s cell phone sang out “Jingle Bells.”

“This town is just jingling with joy,” Bryce muttered under his breath, but when he looked over at her, he smiled. “You show me yours; I’ll show you mine.”

Rachel slapped her hands over her note.

“Wimp.” He turned his over and slid it in front of her.

I’m grateful a certain someone asked me to tell a lie.

Rachel’s belly flipped. “That’s really sweet.”

Carefully, she removed her hand guarding the note and flipped it over.

I’m thankful for playing pretend.

“Very cute, Rach.” He rolled his paper and slipped it into the ornament, refastening its cap.

Blushing, she folded hers and did the same. “Thanks for doing all this for me. I know it’s ridiculous.”

They stepped out of the town hall building.

Night had fallen, and the Christmas tree lights glowed.

The lamplights illuminated the foot traffic over the brick sidewalks.

The moon hung bright and full overhead. The temperature had dropped, so she tugged her mittens on while walking to the Christmas tree.

The tree really was beautiful. The mayor had reminded her that it was covered with ornaments that included hundreds of private notes of gratitude. Rachel’s heart swelled.

“Where should we hang our ornaments?” Bryce asked.

The lower branches were already covered, though there were several ornaments high on the tree. On decorating day, the town had provided cherry pickers and ladders to enable those present to place their ornaments exactly where they wanted.

“Over there.” She pointed to a sturdy branch and hung hers.

Bryce placed his blue ornament next to her green one. “That looks good.”

Rachel backed up to get a better look at the tree. Bryce stood behind her. She leaned back. Her head rested against his chest, and his hands settled on her waist. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as Christmas magic rolled over her.

“I like the tree topper,” he said.

She raised her eyes to the large star that glowed white and gold. Everything about the tree lights and the gratitude-filled ornaments made her heart squeeze.

Bryce rested his chin on top of her head.

Her eyes pulled shut again. This was too familiar.

Too lovely. Too sweet and too affectionate.

The quick pace of her pulse and the heavy crush in her chest combined to make it all too much to take.

She loved being here with Bryce far more than she should have, considering their relationship wasn’t real.

“I was wrong,” he said.

She didn’t move and didn’t want him to either. But Rachel would rather he not know that. “I bet that list is long. Could you narrow it down for me?”

His chest rumbled with laughter. “About seen one, seen them all.”

“Oh.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s a pretty good tree.”

Bryce kissed the top of her head, and she would have done anything not to have on a wool hat. “Probably the best.”

She glanced over her shoulder and wished he would kiss her. But this wasn’t real. This was pretend. Nothing about their jaunt to Main Street was for anything other than work. Hers: research. His: protection detail.

But that didn’t change the need pooling in her stomach at the possibility that his lips might touch hers again one day. To keep up the lie.