Page 53 of The Night Before Grumpmas
Noelle:My parents decided not to follow the Black Friday tradition. Val also thinks it’s lame so everyone is here, we’re playing board games. Apparently, we’re too old and what’s the point?
Jacob: I was about to convince my brother and his friends to lend me their plane.
Noelle: They own a plane?
Jacob: It’s the company’s. They travel a lot and owning a fleet makes sense.
Noelle: And you want them to use it on you?
Jacob: They use my legal knowledge all the time.
Noelle:The legal knowledge that got me out of my apartment.
Jacob: I thought you said it was your grandmother’s.
Noelle: Thanks to you it’s no one else’s anymore. You left an old lady destitute.
Jacob: Aren’t you laying it on a little thick? She has a pretty nice house in Arizona.
Noelle: You know too much about my grandmother, how?
Jacob: We talk on a regular basis. We’re . . . I think she called us call-buddies?
Noelle: Wow, she gave you a secret code name and everything. It’s interesting. Hey, Dad is cheating in Monopoly, I have to go and fight him, talk to you later.
Jacob: Miss you.
Noelle: Same.
Chapter Thirty
Noelle
“This is very unlike you, McCallister,”I say, glancing at him with a teasing smile. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love this, but the last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable.”
The town looks like something straight out of a Christmas movie—twinkle lights strung from every building, wreaths on every door, and the soft glow of shop windows casting a magical warmth over the snow-dusted streets.
Maple Ridge has always been charming, but this time of year? It’s pure magic. And tonight, I’m sitting in the middle of it, in a carriage made to look like a sleigh, with Jacob right beside me.
He’s not saying much—classic Jacob—but there’s a softness in his expression as he takes it all in. The gentle clip-clop of the horse pulling us through the town square blends with the distant sound of Christmas carols, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.
“Seeing you happy is all I need,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “Plus, this isn’t an in-your-face holiday. It’s . . . just enough.”
I laugh softly. “It’s the same stuff I put up at my place.”
“Yeah, but you do it in a ten-square-foot space. This is a whole town. There’s a difference,” he says, half-smirking.
“So the ratio matters, huh?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
He nods, pretending to be serious. “I’m just saying there has to be balance.”
I lean back, my gaze following the twinkling lights above us. “I’m really going to miss this,” I say, almost to myself. “I’m heading back to New York next week for three days, then off to California. By the time I’m back in town, all the decorations will be gone.”
He eyes me, his expression turning a little suspicious. “You’re staying with me for those three days, right?”
“That’s the idea,” I tease, “unless you can’t handle my holiday enthusiasm. Twenty-four hours of Jingle Bells, nonstop, until you drive me to the airport.”
Jacob chuckles, but I can’t shake the thoughts pressing at the back of my mind. Wednesday. The day of the gala. There’s still so much left to do—missing auction items, a seating chart that’s nowhere near finalized, and a caterer who’s been driving me insane. It feels like I’ve been planning this forever, and now I’m racing against the clock.
