Will

Will shoved past Sharon when he heard the knock at the front door. “I got it,” he called, prompting an exaggerated eyebrow raise from the sassy housekeeper.

When Will opened the door to find Emma standing there his heart nearly stopped. He felt his face light up with hope and relief. “Does this mean you’re giving me another chance?” he asked.

Emma bit her lip as a soft smile made an appearance. “Maybe.”

“Then what are you doing here?” he asked.

Will had been hoping his film would show Emma how much he cared and that he’d never stopped caring or planning for their future together. His stomach had been in knots since he left the envelope at her door. He’d assumed the radio silence had meant one thing—his plan hadn’t worked. But here was Emma, standing at his door, dressed like she was planning a winter expedition.

“You helped me find something I’d lost. I want to do the same for you.”

“How?” he asked, still confused.

Just then Colin came thundering down the hall dressed in boots, a winter jacket, hat, scarf and gloves. “I’m ready!” he yelled sprinting toward them.

Will turned back to Emma who was grinning. “By keeping your Christmas tradition alive,” she said, with a twinkle in her eyes as she held up a set of keys.

* * *

“Why do I feel like a fugitive?” Will asked after hoisting Colin into the cab of the old beat up pickup truck.

They’d taken Will’s car service to a parking garage outside the city where Emma’s father kept his cars. But Will hadn’t been expecting the set of keys Emma held to belong to the antique Ford rust bucket.

“Because you’re a Manhattan brat and haven’t ever ridden in a car that wasn’t a limo,” Emma teased.

“Hey! I’ve been in Cranston’s Ferrari.”

Emma gave him a trying look.

“Right, not helping,” Will said. “But seriously, whose truck is this?” he asked staring at the massive steering wheel.

“It’s my mom’s!” Colin perked up. “And her name is Jezebel.”

Emma and Will both raised their eyebrows at that.

“And does Jezebel still run?” Will asked.

“Like a champ, according to Tara,” Emma offered.

Will gave the dusty dash a pat and held his breath as he turned the key in the ignition. He expected the truck was more likely to explode than start, but surprisingly it roared to life with authority.

“Well, that’s a good sign. Maybe this crazy plan will actually work,” he joked.

“Have a little faith,” Emma ordered. “Besides, how else are we supposed to get the perfect Christmas tree home from your magic tree farm that’s a million miles outside the city?”

Will looked at her like she was crazy. “They have a delivery service, Em.”

“Oh.” The flustered look on her face was so adorable that Will could barely contain his amusement. “But, we’re here,” he said. “Might as well have an adventure.”

“Yeah!” Colin exclaimed from his spot on the patchwork bench seat between them.

Will grinned. “Buckle up.”

Emma

Emma was certain she’d never live her pickup truck blunder down when they’d pulled out of the garage and the old truck backfired loud enough to cause people on the street to stop and stare. Some even dropped to the ground, probably thinking it was gunfire. Colin thought it was awesome, of course. And Will’s echoing laughter almost made up for Emma’s embarrassment. She’d been beyond grateful when Tara offered up the use of her truck to help Emma and Colin pull off Will’s Christmas surprise, but Emma was beginning to wonder if maybe Tara was finally paying her back for her more than frosty behavior over the past few days.

Luckily, the rest of the road trip was going much smoother. An hour outside the city, Will stopped for gas at a station that looked like an old barn.

“We always stop here for syrup on the way,” he explained.

“Syrup?” Emma asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Will winked. “You’ll see.”

Colin ran down the aisle loading up on road trip snacks, which turned out to be Slim Jims, M&Ms and Mountain Dew. Will grabbed coffee for himself and Emma, and a large mason jar of local maple syrup, grinning wider than Colin.

“Want anything else?” Will asked before paying the guy at the counter.

Emma grabbed a pack of wintermint Tic Tacs and added them to their loot on the counter.

“I should’ve guessed,” Will added with a smirk.

“What?”

“You’re obsessed with those things.”

“Am not.”

“Oh please,” Will teased. “When we were thirteen you told me you’d rather give up TV than Tic Tacs.”

Emma’s heart hiccupped. “Do you remember everything about me?” she asked guiltily.

“Of course,” Will answered looking at her like she’d asked something everyone already knew the answer to.

Emma followed him and Colin out to the truck in a bit of a daze. It had begun to snow and she watched Will lift Colin under the arms and twirl him around through the snowflakes before safely depositing him in the truck. Colin’s laughter pealed through the crisp December air and something in Emma’s chest cracked open. She felt as though she was looking at Will for the first time. He was still the same old Will—the boy who’d been her kind, dependable best friend. But now, as she took him in, the fine shadow of stubble shading his jaw, the slight curl to his dark locks that peeked out from under his navy beanie, the comfortable fit of his gray pants and work boots . . . all she saw was her future.

She’d never seen this version of Will—so comfortable in his own skin. So happy and alive. And suddenly she ached to be the one twirling in his arms under the soundless fall of snowflakes. She wanted to kiss his frost-bright cheeks, share the curling frozen breath between them.

He turned to look at her as if he knew what she was thinking. “What?”

She shook her head, feeling her cheeks glow. How had she ever thought she’d get over this boy? This morning she’d been sure she could. But then Will’s video had changed everything. And when she embarked on this Christmas tree adventure she’d told herself it was just as friends. But clearly it was much more than that.

Emma approached the truck but stopped as she noticed Will rubbing the back of his neck in thought as he stared at the gas pumps.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“This is kinda embarrassing, but I don’t know how to pump gas.”

Emma burst out laughing. “Move over, Miss Daisy” she said playfully shoving him aside.

“Have I ever told you how good you are for a guy’s confidence, Em?” Will remarked.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Okay are you ready for your first gas pumping lesson, city boy?”

“Hey, you’re just as much a city brat as I am.”

“Yeah, but now I’m a Boston city brat. And in Boston, we pump our own gas.”

Will smirked and gave a mock bow, allowing Emma to proceed with the gas. Will blew into his ungloved hands to keep them warm as they waited for the massive tank to fill. “So,” he murmured between puffs of steam. “What changed your mind?”

“About what?” Emma asked.

“Me.”

“Who says I’ve changed my mind?”

“You’re here. I just figured it meant something.”

Emma sighed deeply and a cloud of swirling air hung between them. “I didn’t want you to lose your holiday tradition.” She stuffed her free hand in her pocket. “It seems like we’ve both already lost enough.”

“Have I lost you?” Will asked quietly.

When Emma met his gaze, she felt scorched by the intensity in Will’s exquisite blue eyes. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Em—”

“Will, I don’t think we can go back. Too much has happened.”

“Then maybe we can go forward?”

Emma looked at him, wanting more than anything to say yes. She wanted to trust him, but it was hard. But maybe, just maybe they could carve out a new path. It was Christmas after all, with a new year just around the corner. What better time to forge a new beginning?

“I think I’d like that,” she said, but as Will’s face filled with delight she added, “But as friends first.”

“As friends first,” he clarified, his grin dazzling her.

His joy was contagious and she couldn’t hide her smile as she agreed. “Deal.”