Page 84 of The Mistletoe Makeover

“Two... one!” the crowd chants.

As we reach the final number, the Christmas tree springs to life as the crowd erupts with cheers.

That’s when it hits me—why Jace is smiling. Because he never gets to hang out in town like a normal person. He can’t even date like a regular guy.

As we look at the breathtaking lights, the glow reflects from Jace’s face, and I want to bottle this moment, to tuck it away in the scrapbook of my mind forever.

As I lean my head on his shoulder, a reporter steps in our way, blocking the view.

“Can I ask a few questions?” she asks.

Jace shoots me an apologetic look. No matter how hard he tries, being normal is remarkably short-lived. That’s the price you pay for fame.

“Who’s this for?” he asks, and I can see his mask slip back on, the one that makes him standoffish and grumpy, like when I first met him.

I’m the only one who gets to see the other side of him, the soft side he keeps hidden.

“Maplewood News,” she says. “I wanted to ask about your upcoming concert.”

“As long as it only takes a few minutes,” he says. “And no personal questions.”

I love it when Jace switches into his stage persona. There’s such a clear distinction between who he is around me and how he acts in public. The fact he trusts me enough to show his real side makes me fall even harder.

“How about hot chocolate?” I ask, trying to give Jace some space for his interview.

He nods and promises, “I’ll keep it short.”

I leave Jace with the reporter and head over to the gourmet coffee truck to order a white hot chocolate for each of us. The barista tops off our drinks with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon so that it looks like a heavenly cloud of white.

When I return, he’s finishing up with the interview.

“I’ll meet you over there,” he tells her before turning to me.

“What was that about?”

“She wants a picture of us.”

I take a sip of my drink. “Together?”

“You’re the genius behind this festival. But you might not want to wear whipped cream for the shot.” He brushes his finger across my nose and licks the whipped cream off his finger.

My cheeks heat. “Definitely not,” I say, trying to hide how much I enjoyed that. Everywhere Jace touches me, it’s like my body turns into a heat map.

“I’ll pass on the picture,” I say.

“You’re not getting out of this,” Jace says firmly. “You’ve worked harder than anyone on this festival.” Jace takes my hand and pulls me along, leading me toward the park hill where there are games, more decorations, and food.

“Jace, I don’t want to be in the spotlight,” I explain. I’m the one who’s always been in the background, orchestrating things behind the scenes. Never the girl out front.

“I know,” he says, and his face softens. “It’s what I like about you. You don’t demand the spotlight. I think we make a good team.”

I’m part of Jace’s team?Something about his comment sends a thrill through me. I want to be part of Jace’s team, even if I’m just his assistant.

Jace holds my hand as we thread through the crowd, and I almost have to jog to keep up with his massive stride.

When we make it to the top of the hill, the wind hits my face, and I stop feeling my fingertips. “I’m going to look like an icicle for this picture.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t. I’ll hold both hands if I have to,” Jace says, shooting me a look that makes my heart knock against my rib cage.

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