Olivia Blake had perfected the art of city life.
Her days were a blur of subway rides, coffee runs, and late-night brainstorming sessions in glass-walled conference rooms. She was proud of her career as an editor at Urban Outlook, even if it left her too tired to actually live.
But on the morning of December 20, her perfectly ordered life took an unexpected turn.
Her phone buzzed, dragging her away from a feature about minimalist holiday dĂŠcor. She frowned at the name on the screen: Mom.

âHey, Mom,â Olivia said, balancing the phone between her shoulder and ear. âWhatâs up?â
âOlivia, itâs Aunt June,â her mother said, her voice unusually tight.
Olivia sat up straighter. Aunt June had practically raised her while her parents worked long hours at the bakery. âWhatâs wrong?â
âShe broke her leg,â her mom said. âSlipped on ice outside the Christmas market.â
âOh no,â Olivia gasped.
âSheâs fine,â her mom continued quickly. âBut she canât run the market booth, and you know how much she loves it. The doctor says she needs to rest.â
Olivia glanced at the stack of proofs on her desk. Deadlines loomed, but the thought of Aunt June missing the marketâthe one sheâd organized every year since Olivia was fiveâmade her chest ache.

âIâll come home,â Olivia said before she could second-guess herself.
Her momâs voice softened. âThank you, sweetheart. Itâll mean the world to her.â
Olivia sighed, already dreading the mountain of emails sheâd face upon her return. But for Aunt June, sheâd brave anything.
Even Pine Hollow.
The snow-dusted streets of Pine Hollow looked like something out of a Hallmark card. Olivia gripped the wheel of her rental car, squinting at the familiar landmarks: the general store with its oversized candy cane decorations, the tiny ice rink next to the library, and the towering Christmas tree in the town square.

Sheâd barely parked in front of Aunt Juneâs cozy bungalow when the door flew open.
âOlivia!â her mother called, waving frantically from the porch.
Olivia stepped out, immediately engulfed in the crisp winter air. âHi, Mom!â
Her mom pulled her into a hug, then dragged her inside, where Aunt June was propped up on the couch, her leg encased in a bright red cast.
âLook at you, city girl,â Aunt June said, her eyes twinkling despite her injury. âDid you bring the entire population of New York with you, or just your attitude?â
Olivia laughed, shaking her head. âI missed you too, Aunt June.â
âWell, youâre here now, and thatâs what matters,â Aunt June said. âYouâll be running the booth at the market tomorrow. And donât you dare sell anything for less than itâs worth. Pine Hollow shoppers are ruthless.â
âGot it,â Olivia said, saluting dramatically.

Her mom chuckled, but Olivia barely heard her. Her gaze had wandered to the framed photos on the mantel: holiday snapshots from years past, all featuring the same tousled-haired boy with a crooked smile.
âIs that⌠Charlie?â she asked, pointing to one of the photos.
Aunt June grinned. âOh, yes. Charlieâs still here. Heâs running the tree lot this year. Youâll probably see him at the market.â
Olivia felt a flutter in her chest. She hadnât thought about Charlie in years.
***
The Pine Hollow Christmas Market was bustling the next morning. Olivia set up Aunt Juneâs booth, arranging hand-knitted scarves and ornaments under a banner that read âHolly Jolly Crafts.â

âNeed help with that?â a voice drawled behind her.
She turned, and there he was.
Charlie.
He looked like heâd stepped out of a lumberjack calendar: flannel shirt, jeans that clung just right, and the kind of stubble that could make a razor weep. His hair was still tousled, and his crooked smile hadnât changed a bit.
âCharlie,â she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
âLivvie,â he said, his grin widening.
âNo one calls me that anymore,â she said, crossing her arms.
âShame,â he said, leaning casually against a post. âIt suits you.â

Olivia rolled her eyes, but she couldnât fight the smile tugging at her lips. âWhat brings you to the market?â
âTree lotâs just down the way,â he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. âFigured Iâd say hi. Itâs been, what? Ten years?â
âTwelve,â she corrected.
âNot that youâre counting,â he teased.
Olivia laughed despite herself. âHowâs life in Pine Hollow?â
âQuiet. Simple. Perfect,â he said. âYouâd hate it.â
âProbably,â she admitted, though a part of her wasnât so sure.

Over the next few days, Olivia found herself bumping into Charlie more often than seemed accidental. He showed up at the booth with hot cocoa, helped her hang decorations, and once stepped in to shoo away a particularly haggling customer.
âYouâre really bad at saying no,â he teased afterward.
âIâm good at saying no,â she shot back. âJust not to old ladies with kind eyes.â
âAdmirable,â he said, his eyes sparkling.
Olivia opened her mouth to respond but found herself momentarily at a loss. Something in the way he looked at herâthe tilt of his head, the easy confidence in his smileâmade her stomach flutter. It wasnât the hot coffee heâd just handed her or the chill of the snow swirling around them.
It was Charlie.
She shook the feeling off quickly, laughing lightly. âWell, someone has to keep the peace.â

âYouâve always been good at that,â Charlie said, his tone softer now.
Something about the way he said it made her pause. A memory surfaced unbidden: a younger Charlie, his nose bloodied after sticking up for her on the playground, flashing her that same crooked smile.
âYouâre staring,â he teased, breaking the silence.
Olivia blinked, heat rising to her cheeks. âIâm not staring. Iâm just⌠remembering.â
He raised an eyebrow. âGood things, I hope.â
She didnât answer, and he didnât press. Instead, he gestured toward the garland-draped booth behind her. âLooks like your next customerâs waiting.â
The rest of the day passed in a blur of small talk and transactions, but Olivia couldnât shake the stirrings in her chest.
That night, she lay awake in Aunt Juneâs guestroom, staring at the ceiling.

It wasnât just nostalgia. She was sure of it now. Something had shifted between her and Charlie. It wasnât dramatic or overwhelming; it was subtle, like a single snowflake landing on her palm, fragile yet undeniable.
But what did it mean?
She groaned, turning over. This wasnât what sheâd come to Pine Hollow for. She had deadlines, projects, and a life waiting for her back in New York. And yet, all she could think about was the way Charlieâs eyes crinkled when he laughed, the warmth of his hand brushing hers as he passed her a box of ornaments.
She was teetering on the edge of something she couldnât name, and it terrified her.
***
By Christmas Eve, Olivia couldnât deny the spark between them. It felt like theyâd picked up right where theyâd left off, except this time, it wasnât the innocent friendship of their childhood. This was something deeper, something she didnât want to leave behind.
But leaving was inevitable.
The morning of December 26th, Olivia stood in Aunt Juneâs living room, staring at her packed bag. Her flight was in a few hours, and she had a stack of deadlines waiting for her in New York.

âYouâre quiet,â her mom said, handing her a cup of tea.
âJust thinking,â Olivia said.
âAbout Charlie?â her mom asked, her voice knowing.
Olivia sighed. âItâs complicated. My life is in the city. I have a career, friends, an apartment I love. I canât just⌠give that up.â
âWhy not?â Aunt June called from the couch. âIf youâre waiting for a guarantee, youâll be waiting forever.â
Olivia bit her lip. She knew they were right, but the idea of leaving everything behind was terrifying.
Charlie was waiting by her car when she stepped outside.

âI heard youâre heading back,â he said, his hands shoved into his pockets.
She nodded. âYeah. Back to deadlines and subways and overpriced lattes.â
âYou sure thatâs what you want?â he asked, his voice soft.
Olivia hesitated. âI donât know, Charlie. This⌠you⌠it feels like a dream. But what if it doesnât work out? What ifââ
âWhat if it does?â he interrupted, stepping closer.
She looked up at him, her heart pounding. âYou make it sound so simple.â
âBecause it is,â he said. âStay. Just for a while. See where this goes.â
For the first time in years, Olivia felt something she hadnât allowed herself to feel: hope.
She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing against her chest. But as she looked into Charlieâs eyesâsteady, hopeful, and brimming with something she couldnât quite nameâher doubts began to melt away.
âOkay,â she said softly, the word carrying more than just an answer.
âOkay?â Charlieâs grin spread slowly, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a winter storm.
Before she could answer, he pulled her into a hugâa warm, all-encompassing embrace that seemed to anchor her to the moment. Olivia froze at first, startled by the surge of emotions crashing over her. But then she leaned in, her arms wrapping around him as she let herself exhale.

âYou mean it?â he murmured, his voice low and close to her ear.
âYes,â she whispered, her cheek pressed against the flannel of his shirt. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and sure, matching her own.
Charlie pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands still resting on her arms. âYou have no idea how long Iâve wanted to hear that.â
Her laugh was soft and breathless, the corners of her mouth lifting in a smile she couldnât contain. âI think Iâm starting to get an idea.â
His grin widened as he spun her in a playful circle, their laughter mingling with the faint hum of Christmas carols drifting from the town square. Oliviaâs hair caught the light of the twinkling decorations, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didnât care about what came next.

Pine Hollow wasnât where sheâd planned to spend her future. But as Charlie set her down gently, his hands lingering at her waist, Olivia realized something that made her heart skip a beat.
Sometimes, the best plans werenât plans at all.