Page 9 of Havoc for the Holidays

“Two pumpkin rolls, two of those apple pies, a spinach quiche, and I absolutely must try the goat cheese and currant roll. Two hot apple ciders as well, please.” Ezechiel commanded our order with ease, leaving me flustered and, of course, blushing. I tried not to let my hopes run wild, but this was all starting to feel more and more date-adjacent with every passing second.

“For here or to go?” Mary side eyed me with all the subtlety of a runaway circus train.

“To go, ma’am. Thank you.” Another nervous laugh escaped my lips.

“Perfect. I'll have that for you in just a tick. It's a gorgeous day out. Make sure you show our new friend the pumpkin walk before they cart it all away to put up the tree.” She tapped the countertop and disappeared out of earshot before I could stammer some sort of socially acceptable response.

“Pumpkin walk?” Ezechiel arched a brow in my direction and I got lost for a moment in the way his rich brown eyes twinkled with humor.

“Yes, um. It probably sounds so silly to someone from the city but…” I inhaled a deep breath before continuing. “All the elementary school children paint pumpkins for Halloween and they get displayed along the old bridge and around town square. Even some of the parents and teachers and townsfolk add their own. It becomes a whole sort of display through Thanksgiving.”

“Add it to the list. I need to see this.” Ezechiel’s smile was effusive and earnest. My nerves settled just a fraction in the face of his genuine excitement. I had to bite my lower lip to keep from grinning like a fool. Maybe, just maybe, this was a date.Hopefully, with any luck, I could avoid ruining it with my hot mess antics. Fingers crossed.

Chapter six

Ezechiel

Oliver came alive the second we began the tour of Windhaven’s sights. It was criminal how adorable this man was. Part of me had been concerned that this date, which I realized it very much was with a bit of shock and horror, would be spent awkwardly stumbling over stammering conversation. Instead, he was vibrant and vivacious and so relaxed, he became a new man. His love for this tiny enclave of country charm was infectious. It was easy to see why the further we wandered.

Windhaven was a gorgeous town. Every building that fronted Main Street oozed old charm. Ornate Victorians and historic clapboard farmhouses retrofitted into store fronts cluttered each side of the slate sidewalks. Modern amenities and infrastructure were installed with consideration of their history—buried electric lines, lampposts styled after old gas lamps, granite curbs, and even the occasional real gas lamp affixed to a few of the buildings made it feel like I'd stepped back in time. All the signage was in keeping with the quintessential charm, featuring ornate lettering, gold accents, and quaint images of mountains and trees and different flora.

Even though the sidewalks were surprisingly busy for such a small town, it felt like an intimate experience as Ollie and I walked along the tree-lined road. He had so many stories about each place, I found myself walking slower and slower so I could hear them all and we’d barely explored one quarter of the town. There was the grocery store and pharmacy gift shop, which I was familiar with out of necessity alone, but there was so much more I hadn't bothered paying attention to. A florist shop, another gift shop, restaurants and pubs, the doctor's office Lincoln’s partner owned, a bakery, a post office and town hall combined, as well as an old inn better suited to a Hallmark movie than a real place that actually existed on a map.

Once we arrived at the old bridge, my breath caught in my throat with a gasp. I hadn't bothered driving this far into town, so I'd never seen it in person. Mom had sent a few pictures over the years, but they didn't hold a candle to the real thing. Tall stone columns held a wrought iron sign over the road that proclaimed “Welcome to Windhaven” in ornate script. The stone work of the railings was equally impressive, but the best part was the pumpkins lining the sidewalks on either side. Combined with the corn stalks and hay bales, the whole vignette looked like a greeting card come to life.

“Ollie, this is breathtaking.”

“Wait till you see it during the holidays.” His face lit up with unbridled joy. “Garlands and ribbons and lights everywhere. Come on, you need to see the Town Square on the other side.”

He gathered my arm in his with a shyer version of his unfettered grin before walking us across the bridge and guiding us onto a smaller path that hugged the bank of the babbling brook following under the bridge. Windhaven’s Town Square was so much more than that. It was a veritable park cluttered with even older buildings situated around a cobblestone courtyard. Beyond the circular green space and painfully charming buildings, the forests and fields spread out as far as the eye could see.

“That there is the library and civic center where the Holiday Showcase is held.” I followed Ollie's pointer finger and pressed my hand to my chest with another gasp. Evidently, we would be performing in one of the most gorgeous old churches I'd ever laid eyes on.

“Please tell me that is a real bell in the tower?”

“It is. They ring it for special occasions. It's all quite lovely.” Ollie's finger swung toward another elegant white building nearby. “That’s Thompson’s House, it's an inn and restaurant. They're the oldest family in the town. The inn we passed back on Main Street is theirs too.”

“I feel like I've entered an alternate universe.” I tugged him toward a granite bench overlooking the water. “Places like this aren't supposed to be real.”

“I've lived here my whole life. I promise you, it's very real.” Ollie took a seat on the bench with a smile and quiet thank you.

I tore into the bag of treats once I was seated beside him, divvying up the sweets before breaking the savory options in half to share with him. The chill of the November air had made our drinks cool enough to enjoy, and the scenery was too perfect topass up. Sharing this impromptu picnic meal made the maybe-date even more of a real date. I smiled to myself and shook my head. I hadn't been on a date, at least a proper one, in months. Probably longer, if I were to be honest with myself. Buying a Grindr hookup a drink hardly qualifies as a date, after all.

“Why’re you shaking your head?” Ollie peeked at my face before his eyes ducked back to the pumpkin roll in his hand. “Was it something I said?”

“Not at all, no.” I nudged his shoulder with mine. “I was just thinking that this felt an awful lot like a first date.”

“Oh. Oh!” He smothered a nervous laugh with a cough as he turned his face toward the water. “Is… um…”

“I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing, Oliver.” I leaned forward to try and catch his attention. He made eye contact for all of a microsecond before looking away again. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Oh,” he squeaked, once more clearing his throat. The flush on his cheeks was downright delectable. “So, maybe…?”

“Maybe it is a first date?” A bubble of nervousness churned in my stomach as I voiced my thoughts. For a grown man, I was starting to feel exceptionally adolescent in the face of asking another man if he'd be interested in calling this a first date. The fact that I wanted it to be the first of many more had me squirming in my seat with anxiety.

“I think I'd like it to be?” Ollie inhaled a deep breath before turning back toward me. “Perhaps we could… we could… if I don't ruin it…”

There it was: my opening. I ignored all the voices in my head telling me I didn't date and blurted the words Ollie was trying and failing to articulate. “Perhaps we could make it the first and look forward to the second?”

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