I COULDN’T GET enough of her.
There came a point in every relationship where you think you fell as far as you could possibly go, but the more time I spent with Cassi and the more I learned about her—her quirky habits such as the way she’d tap her finger against her chin while in thought or how she’d constantly twist and play with the rings on her fingers when she was nervous—the more I realized I wasn’t done falling. There was no endpoint with Cassi. Slowly, she was stealing my heart as if it’d always belonged to her, and I guess in a way it had.
“Sam, look!” She pointed up at the flurries falling from the ink-black sky, a smile on her face that warmed my veins despite the freezing temperature. “It’s snowing. I can’t believe it’s actually snowing.”
“What are the chances?” I leaned over, pressing a kiss to her temple as she snuggled deeper into my side.
“It’s so pretty.” She tilted her head, beaming up at me with a sparkle in her eyes. “It’s actually kind of magical.”
“It is,” I agreed. Everything about the evening thus far had been perfect. Snow hadn’t been in the forecast, but the weather in the northeast was highly unpredictable, and seeing it fall around us, as we rode through the city in a horse and carriage ride, made it all the more memorable.
“Thank you for bringing me. I’m having a wonderful evening.”
“Worth the two-hour road trip, huh?”
Of course, I knew it would be.
Christkindlmarkt was a yearly Christmas event held in the city of Bethlehem and wasn’t one to be missed if you were looking to get into the holiday spirit. Around town, the shops, and every street for that matter, were decorated in festive lights. People strolled along the red brick sidewalks, drinking coffee or hot chocolate as they crossed off the gifts on their buying lists—mostly handmade goods from the variety of vendors. A short distance away and located in the heart of the old steel factory was the magnificent arts and crafts festival. Four large heated tents housed hundreds of fine artists from across the country, displaying their creations, from jewelry to pottery and paintings, for sale. There were pieces guaranteed to catch your eye, and it was nearly impossible to leave the place without your wallet a little lighter and your arms a tad fuller. Shopping wasn’t the only highlight, though. The local art studios also participated, performing live demonstrations, such as glassblowing and ice carving, and local school bands, as well as amateur and seasoned musical artists, played on an elevated stage, filling your ears with the sound of Christmas.
As the carriage came to a stop, I climbed out first, helping Cassi to her feet and then tipping the driver. I threaded my fingers through hers as we boarded the bus and headed across town to the festival. When we arrived in front of the main entrance tent, Cassi stood in awe.
Off to the right, large beams of red and green light lit up the old Bethlehem steel blast furnaces, and in the distance, you could hear the bustling crowds and commotion of the festivities.
“Are you ready?”
She nodded enthusiastically, and I took her hand in mine, navigating us to the end of the line that appeared to be a mile long. As we waited, our breaths forming small clouds of mist in the cold air, Cassi stood in front of me, her arms snug around my waist and her chin resting on my chest.
“What?” I asked, curious as to why she seemed so fascinated with me of all things. There was so much else to look at, so much history.
“You.”
“Me?” I raised a brow. “What about me?”
“Some days, I don’t think you’re real, Sam Copeland.”
“And why is that?”
“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. You’re patient and kind. You understand I’m not whole but a thousand messy and shattered pieces, and yet, you’re here anyway—you want to be with me anyway.” She dropped her head for a fraction of a second before pinning me again with her eyes. “I was scared to meet you at first. I was terrified that all I would feel toward you was resentment, but the truth is, you’re nothing like I expected but everything I secretly hoped for.”
Enthralled by her beauty and hung up on her words, I ran my thumb over her bottom lip. It was hard to believe we had made it to this point. Her confession about meeting me hadn’t come as a surprise; I had been terrified to meet her, too. Never would I have thought it would turn out to be one of the best damn things to happen in my life. Leaning in, I kissed her in a way that was entirely inappropriate for our current surroundings, but I didn’t care. Having her in my arms felt surreal, and I was going to take advantage of every second.
Our tongues met, wet and warm, curling and tangling, gently stroking as if this kiss was their sole and only purpose. Overwhelmed by sensation and lust, I pulled back, pressing my forehead to hers. My eyes drifted closed, and the distant sound of my mother’s voice echoed in my ears.
“How does your heart feel?”
“Never quite like it does right now,” I whispered, not realizing I’d actually said it aloud until Cassi questioned me on it.
“What?” She glanced at me, confused.
“Nothing.” I breathed before deciding to elaborate. “My mother. She used to ask me all the time—how does your heart feel? And I was thinking if she were here now, if she were still alive to ask me, I’d tell her: never quite like it does right now … when I’m with you.”
A smile lit up in Cassi’s eyes, and she cupped my face, her tiny hands warm against my cool cheeks as she lifted on her toes and kissed me again, longer and much more thorough. The desire to leave hit me out of nowhere. I wanted to take her home. I wanted to lay her down in my bed and show her exactly how my heart felt.
Let me love you, Cassi.
The thought dissipated on a gust of air as the line finally began to move, and we broke apart, moving with it. In no time at all, we were inside the first large tent, made up of primarily retail vendors. With our fingers entwined, we followed the crowds, stopping at nearly every vendor along the way and browsing their wares. Cassi purchased a few things for her niece and nephews, and seeing the excitement on her face washed away all of my hesitation about bringing her. As we neared the rear of the tent that led outside to where the ice carving and glass blowing was taking place, the Käthe Wohlfahrt display caught her attention. She marveled at all the handmade ornaments, nutcrackers, and variety of collectibles imported straight from Germany, and after much deliberation, she decided to buy a Christmas pickle.
Fishing through the bag the cashier handed her, she held the three-inch ceramic pickle up between us and squealed. “Isn’t it the cutest thing?”
“It’s a pickle,” I deadpanned, attempting to hide a massive grin.
“So.” She shrugged, not allowing my lack of enthusiasm to crush her mood, and dropped it back in her bag. “It’s still cute.”
I laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulder and tucking her into my side. “You’re cute.” She rolled her eyes playfully as I guided her outside. “Come on. Let’s go watch some live demonstrations.”
For the next hour, we did just that.
We sat on wooden benches in the courtyard, watching as an ice carver transformed large blocks of ice into a detailed snowflake and a reindeer. It reminded me of the scene in the movie Edward Scissorhands, where Johnny Depp makes snow fall over the city for Kim, and Cassi’s expression held much of the same kind of reaction. Once the ice sculptor finished, we walked the few feet to the glassblowing artists who spent their time creating unique, one-of-a-kind Christmas ornaments.
“Have you ever thought about being a glassblower?” Cassi asked, turning to face me.
“I’ve dabbled with it, but honestly, no. I’m not a fan of the heat. I’m perfectly content with working with stained glass and piecing together broken shards. It’s what my parents loved doing, and I can proudly say it’s one thing they both passed on to me.”
“Have you ever participated in festivals like this?”
“All the time, yeah. It’s an amazing community to be a part of. Most of the vendors and artists travel the country and do the same festivals and shows together. Over time, they sort of become family. I used to love doing them, but then my heart took a turn for the worst, and I had to stop. I returned to working out of my private studio, but I always dreamed of opening a public one someday.”
“Will you show me?”
“Show you?” I lifted a brow in question.
“Your studio, I mean. I’d love to see your work.”
“When would you like to see it?”
“Tonight.”
“Tonight? We’ve got an almost two-hour drive home. It will be late when we get back.”
She shrugged. “It’s not like I have any plans for tomorrow. Don’t you know I lead a rather boring life, Mr. Copeland.”
A laugh escaped me. “Me, too, Ms. Porter. Me, too.” I cupped the back of her neck and dragged her to me, kissing her forehead. “Tonight then.”
She smiled, reiterating the word. “Tonight.”
Her stomach grumbled, and I pushed to my feet, extending my hand. “Let’s go grab a bite to eat and check out the artist tent, shall we?”
She rose from the bench and sidled right into my side, lacing our fingers as we strolled inside the second tent and headed straight for the concession stands. The delicious smell of deep-fried food traveling in the air caused my own stomach to riot in hunger, and after looking at the menus and everything available for offer, Cassi decided on a turkey leg and an order of perogies. I settled with a heart-healthy salad. It sucked, because Cassi’s food smelled entirely too good, but it was worth it for the homemade apple strudel we purchased to share as our dessert.
“Oh my God, this is so good.” She spoke around a mouthful of the sweet, flaky pastry, her fingers shielding her mouth as she chewed. “Can we buy some to take home?”
Chuckling, I reached forward and dusted the powdered sugar from her cheeks and nose. “I don’t know if that’s necessary. At this rate, you’ll be wearing it out of here.” My thumb swept over the dimple on full display exclusively for me, and I hooked my forefinger under her chin, guiding her closer. “Hold on. You have a little bit more right”—I moved in as if I was going to wipe it clean but made a last-minute pass and playfully licked at the corner of her mouth—“here.”
Eyes wide, Cassi stared at me in shock. “Oh my gosh.” She smacked my chest playfully. “You did not just do that.”
“I did,” I said proudly and completely unashamed. “I totally did.”
She shook her head with a grin, earning another laugh from me, and I sat, watching her, half in amazement and half in denial.
God, she was becoming everything.
Every. Fucking. Thing.
Taking me by surprise, she planted her sugar-covered lips onto mine, and if for not being surrounded by hundreds of people, I would have yanked her right into my lap and devoured her on the spot. It was tempting, so very, very tempting. We’d been dancing around this foreplay for weeks, and my control was slowly slipping, the threads holding me back weakening with every kiss, every touch.
I wanted her, in the worst way a man could ever want a woman.
Once we’d finished eating, we strolled the paths lined with booths of every art imaginable. Our feet slowed and then came to a halt in front of a woodworker who was in the middle of turning wood into small spinning tops with his lathe. A horde of children gathered around him, choosing their colors from the array of markers he had laid out on a table in front of the machine. One by one, the crowd thinned until it was only Cassi and I who remained.
“Would the lady like one?”
Cassi gave a quick glance around, and not seeing anyone else in the immediate vicinity, she pointed her finger at her chest. “Me?”
“You’re not too old for a good old-fashioned spinning top, are you?”
“No. No, I’m not.”
Excited—if not more so than the children before her—she chose her colors, blue and purple, and passed them to the gentleman, watching as he pressed the tips of the markers to the top of what would be the small wooden toy. The colors bled into the wood, and within minutes, he was brushing it clean and passing it to her.
“I love it,” she said, beaming. “Thank you so much.”
I grabbed my wallet out of my pocket and handed the man a twenty. He turned to get me change, and I held up my hand, waving it off. “Keep it, please.”
“Are you sure? They’re only five dollars.”
“I’m sure. That smile you just put on her face is worth every penny.”
He nodded appreciatively, and I turned toward Cassi, who stood blushing, that breathtaking smile still on display. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. “You’re too good to me, Sam, too good.”
“What do you say we make our way out of here? I believe I have a studio to show you.”
“I think that sounds like an excellent plan.”
We began the walk back to the main tent, stepping into the winter air as we crossed through the outside courtyard.
“Sam?”
My feet stopped. My body stiffened. That voice. I recognized it. All too clearly. I spun around in the direction it floated from, and my face paled. “Vanessa.”
What the fuck was she doing here?
I gulped down the profanity and tried like hell to clear the rest of the words from my throat. “What are you doing here?”
I didn’t miss the way her plump, heavily glossed lips pouted at my less than enthused greeting or how her eyes homed in on Cassi, as if Cassi were a competitor in some undefined race and she was assessing her odds of becoming victor.
There was no competition.
Cassi would win, hands down.
With an ambivalent smile on her face, Vanessa returned her gaze to mine, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. “I’m meeting with Janie, the lead events manager. We were speaking about featuring the gallery as an attraction next year, and she invited me personally to come and take a look around. Experience the festival firsthand. It would be a great opportunity to get our students’ work in front of fresh eyes and some recognition for their pieces.”
Indeed, it would.
As an artist myself, I was all for supporting the work Vanessa set out to achieve. She was the lead director of Gallery 65, an art studio centered around promoting apprentice artists fresh out of college. It was how we initially met and why we seemed to so easily hit it off, but still, what were the chances of her being here, tonight of all nights?
More shit luck, I supposed.
“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. I’m not sure if you’ve been getting my calls or not.”
Cassi shifted uncomfortably, rocking back and forth on her feet, and guilt riddled me for being so rude and inconsiderate. Introducing her should have been the first thing I’d done.
Ignoring Vanessa's question, because there was no way in hell we were having that conversation now, I waved my hand in Cassi’s direction. “Vanessa, this is Cassi. Cassi, Vanessa. We used to work together.”
Cassi held her hand out, gifting her a kind smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The coldness of Vanessa’s icy stare penetrated the short distance between them, but she masked it with a counterfeit expression. She should’ve been an actress; she played the part well. “Likewise.”
“We were just getting ready to leave,” I interjected, wanting this awkward situation to end before it became worse. “Long journey home.”
“Oh right. Of course. I’ll let you go then.” She stepped right into my space, pressing a more than platonic kiss to the corner of my mouth. “It was nice to see you, Sam. Give me a call when you’re free. We have a lot to talk about.”
Like hell we did.