Page 60 of The Christmas Romance Wish

Afterward, Alex and I walk around the town square rimmed with stalls. Merchants sell handmade crafts and gift items, local clubs and schools host games and giveaways, and food vendors offer everything from hot chocolate to mulled wine, sausage sandwiches to giant pretzels, and loads of pastries and chocolates.

Alex’s hand grips mine as he points out items of interest and says hello to locals.

We reach a small shelter with a sign that saysJolly Trolley: Stops every 15 minutes.

Alex says, “Pax petitioned the town with a request to have Santa drop in from the souped-up sleigh and offer gifts to all the good little boys and girls, but maybe next year.”

“Let me guess, Santa’s souped-up sleigh is a helicopter.”

Alex chuckles.

“You love it here, huh?”

“It’s home. What do you think so far? How much do you hate all this sweet and festive fun?”

“Oh, I despise it so much I haven’t stopped smiling.”

Alex kisses the top of my head. “That’s my girl.”

Only five minutes later, we’re boarding the JollyTrolley bound for the lake. We go through a neighborhood of houses each decorated from top to bottom. Some homes are stately with candles flickering in the windows and white lights twinkling along the trim. Others look like Santa’s elves had too much eggnog and went wild.

I quietlyoohandahhat how cheerful it all is. The friendly faces, the waves, the smiles and the laughter are heartwarming. “It’s like living in a Hallmark movie. However, I can’t help but wonder who the villain is.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I say, “Wait. Is it me, the Lady Grinch? If so, I take it back. I don’t want to spoil anyone’s fun.”

“No, the real Grinch, the Scrooge, if you will, is Tad Tobin. Remember the developer who wants to level Holidayle Sleighbell Lakeside Hotel?” Alex points to a long building set back from the road that’s two stories and looks like it was once a massive home, extended to host more and more guests over the years.

I flinch when he says the name. “It looks so quaint.”

“According to Tad Tobin, that’s the problem. He wants to modernize it. The Wilson family is the Holidayle glue. I’m afraid without them and the hotel, this would all become a quaint memory.”

Should I tell Alex about the connection with my ex? “Tad Tobin sounds like the McGregor family’s mortal enemy, Gerome Glandman.”

The soft and frosty glow of my surroundings blur. It’s almost like I’m ten years old, all over again, sitting in my grandfather’s office while he storms and blusters on an important phone call.

Then I flash forward to my college years when I met Tad, and we had what goes down in history as the geekiest romance ever if it could even be called that.

Taking a deep breath, I’m afraid of what this might cost me, but I can’t hold back. “Here’s a truth. I know Tad Tobin. He’s half the mastermind behind the Marry Me app.”

I wait for Alex to respond. He blinks slowly as if frozen.

So I go on, “In college, we were in the same circle. Dylann,him, me, and a few others were discussing our dating lives. It came up that Tad and I didn’t have much experience. We were pressured into going on a date. I wouldn’t say we had sparks, but it was something...something that turned into us agreeing that if we didn’t get married by thirty, we’d tie the knot.”

“Did you?” he asks slowly.

“No way. But that morphed into us trying to be a couple and eventually creating the Marry Me app. Needless to say, we weren’t a match by its metrics or any other. Dylann calls him Tid Bit, but he’s more of a toad.”

Alex nods and part of me is embarrassed for having dated Tad. He doesn’t compare to the man by my side in any way, shape, or form.

“Have you met him?” I ask.

“Yeah. I thought he was part squirrel.” Alex gestures with his hand to his upper lip. “It’s like one was trying to grow out of his face. A mangy one.”

At this, I burst into laughter as we pass the hotel.

“The property situation reminds me of the one with my grandfather. Even though he acquired an island and made it into his personal paradise, then opened the resort to the public, he was very much about preserving tradition. While his business partner wanted to modernize and streamline with polished glass and sleek lines that later became the nearby Platinum Shores Resort, Chip was all about keeping things old-school, where individuals, couples, and families could spend time together, create memories, and get away from modern life. Not that guests had to do their own laundry, but it was very much a classic experience.”

Alex brushes his hand down his face. “That’s crazy about Tad. Small world.”

“I suppose. We sold the app. I haven’t spoken to him since that day.” With a glance at the hotel, I add, “I’d all but forgotten about him with zero to little effort. But not about the resort. Growing up there, I was an observer, always on the outsidelooking in, while families did exactly what Chip intended. Loads of families except ours.”

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