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Authors: Maggie McGinnis

BOOK: Snowflake Wishes
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Luke wanted the property, and he wanted Noah as a business partner, despite the fact that Noah had only one more week before he headed out for another year of globe-trotting.

When Noah stepped into the lodge, he drew in a surprised breath. He'd expected the dust and cobwebs. What he hadn't expected was the enormous stone fireplace at one end … the huge windows set deep into the log walls … the warmth of the sunlight as it filtered through the dusty panes.

He walked slowly around, looking up at the cathedral ceiling hung with old-fashioned gas lamps, then down at the plank flooring. Family-style picnic tables made of logs were pushed against the walls, their benches stacked upon one another, and bright light streamed in from the skylights on the roof. It reminded him of the place in the Adirondacks where his parents had taken him and his sisters every summer.

“You said this place was run-down,” he said as he ran his hands along the round stones of the fireplace.

Luke crossed his arms. “Well, I won't lie. This is the best part. The cabins themselves probably need new plumbing, new wiring, the works. It's been a long time since anyone's touched that stuff. And I don't know about the kitchen back there. Not sure about the appliances and all, but it's only been five years since the place was operational. I'm thinking we're hopefully talking mostly cosmetics in here.”

Noah spun in place, breathing deeply. The scent of pines and firs filled his nose, and he closed his eyes, the scent triggering a slew of emotions—sweet, hot memories of a seven-years-ago summer when the only thing on his mind had been Piper Bellini.

He cleared his throat. “What are they asking for it?”

Luke rattled off a figure, and Noah nodded thoughtfully. Lakefront or no, it was too high. “I can see why you need a partner.”

“Not just any partner. Investors are a dime a dozen, especially for a place with the potential this one has. Think about it—we open in mid-April for school groups, then focus on families for the summer months, and go for corporate groups in the fall. We'd have great meeting facilities, comfortable cabins, and the most beautiful lake in New England. Combined with controlled-risk adventures designed by you, we'd be booked up a year in advance.”

“Not that you're getting ahead of yourself at all here.”

Luke smiled. “Just seeing the vision. Seeing the potential.”

Noah pulled out one of the log benches and sat down. “Okay, Mr. Trump.”

Luke laughed. “I've been running Camp Echo for how many years now? And I've been looking at this place right next door, thinking—man, I'd love to get my hands on that property someday. And here it is, available for the taking. I just need to find somebody who can see its potential like I can.”

“And you think that somebody is me? I appreciate your confidence, as misplaced as it might be.”

“I'm hoping. When I thought about what I'd like this place to look like in five years—ten, twenty—you're the guy I can see at the helm, making it happen.”

Noah nodded thoughtfully, looking around, trying to see the lodge the way Luke envisioned it. He was a little surprised at how easy it was to wrap his head around the picture Luke was painting. He could see families gathered around that stone fireplace singing camp songs … kids laughing as they rocketed down zip lines into the lake … corporate teams strategizing over family-style meals in a setting that would lower the blood pressure of the most hardened CEO.

But he already had a job he loved. His passport had stamps from countries he hadn't even known existed prior to his work with the tour company, and he loved that everything he really needed in life could fit into two backpacks and—when he was stateside—the back of his truck. He'd made his choices years ago, and they didn't include a small town where people tended to expect people to settle down and stay.

“Smoke's coming out of your ears, Drake. I don't expect an answer today, so no pressure. Just wanted to show you the place—maybe get your initial thoughts.”

Noah stood up, pushing the bench back into place. “It's a great spot, great facilities, even if they need some TLC. It's got a ton of potential.”

“But?”

Noah blew out a breath. “But nothing, really. I just don't know if I'm the right guy to pull into this, you know? I still have a year left on my current contract, and I have every intention of renewing it, if they'll still have me.”

“So”—Luke eyed him carefully—“the rolling-stone thing isn't getting lonely?”

“I don't have time to be lonely.”

“You don't see yourself maybe settling down at some point? Maybe doing the whole wife-and-kids thing? Could be a great place to raise a family. Just saying.”

Noah sighed. “I don't know. It's not something I think about right now.”

Bullshit.
Ever since three weeks ago, all he
had
been able to think about was the one woman who'd
ever
made him put
wife
and
kids
in the same sentence. She'd been ready. He hadn't.

And on some level, he'd regretted it ever since.

Luke tapped on a tabletop, nodding thoughtfully. “You're around for the weekend, right? I have an idea.”

“Please tell me it has nothing to do with the posters plastered on every telephone pole in town.”

“It might.”

“I don't really think the Snowflake Ball—or whatever it's called—is really up my alley.” Noah cringed. No, hanging out in a Christmas theme park at Echo Lake's annual town dance was the last thing he wanted to do right now. Being in Piper's hometown was hard enough. He'd thought he could come back here, take a look at Luke's property, and be on his way.

But being surrounded by snow and firs, the smell of pines and wood smoke invading his senses, made memories fly through his head at warp speed. He'd fallen in love with Piper here in Echo Lake. They'd had their first kiss at Snowflake Village. They'd had their first—everything here.

And he'd never forgotten any of it.

Yeah, tagging along to a town dance and seeing her in the arms of her husband tonight would probably just about kill him. Seeing her surrounded by children he'd chosen not to have with her … would definitely kill him.

Luke stood up, heading for the door. Then he turned around, a sly expression on his face. “I know it's the past and it doesn't matter and all that … but if you're wondering, Piper's still single.”

Chapter 2

“You know I don't really mean it when I say I hate your mother, right?” Piper blew on her hands as she and Molly walked across the Snowflake Village parking lot, carrying their heels. Her boots kicked through two inches of fresh powder, and she shivered as a breeze lifted her hair.

Molly laughed. “But the dress is perfect, and you know it. You can't hate her
too
much.”

“I know.” Piper rolled her eyes. The dress Mama B had picked out
was
perfect—icicle blue with sparkly sequins, the perfect size, the perfect length, the perfect neckline. For a woman who spent twelve hours a day in a kitchen, her fashion sense defied logic.

“She just wants you to have fun tonight.”

“No. She wants us to be marriages number fifty and fifty-one, and she'd like them both to be
sparked
tonight.”

“Also true.”

They stomped off their boots as they entered the mock igloo that served as the entrance to the theme park, then ducked through the heavy wooden door. As Molly signed the guest register, a giant fake reindeer head swung their way, its hinged jaw working in time with its words.

“Good evening, ladies. Here to have a happy ho-ho evening?”

Piper rolled her eyes at the phrase every employee of Snowflake Village was trained to utter at every possible interval. “Happy ho-ho all the way. Working overtime tonight, Brent?”

“It's Rudolph to you, young lady.”

Molly laughed. “Working overtime,
Rudolph?

“Yup, but I'm okay with it. Best night of the year.” His elderly voice crackled through the speaker. “It's the one time the entire town shuts down and dresses up for a good cause. You two look stunning, if I do say so.”

“Thanks, Brent.” Piper signed her name, but refused to make an X in the singles column. “Don't let any strangers in, okay?”

“Even if they're of the tall, dark, and handsome variety?”

“Only if they're named Johnny Depp. You can totally let him in.”

Brent made one glass reindeer eye blink. “Gotcha covered, Piper. You never know. It's the Christmas season, snow's falling, and it's magical in the park. Could be your night.”

She laughed. “I'll tell you what—if you get Johnny Depp in here to dance with me, I
will
believe in magic.”

She followed Molly through the igloo door that opened into the park, and despite the fact that she'd lived here in Echo Lake for twelve years now and had seen this park a gazillion times at night, her breath caught as they emerged. Tiny white lights were strung throughout the courtyard, from the tops of the buildings to the fountain at the center, and soft carols played from the speakers in the trees. Snow dusted the cobblestones, and wreaths decorated the doors of the snack cottages and gift shop to her left.

The air was bracingly cold as they walked across the courtyard to the function hall built to mimic a historic red barn, and Piper sped up her steps. Golden light poured from the windows and doorway, and she could hear music playing already. Despite her avowal to stay home and watch a chick flick while inhaling a pint of ice cream, she felt a little spark of possibility hit her gut.

So she wasn't destined to fall in love at the Snowflake Ball. So she'd spend most of the evening dancing with guys she'd danced with every year. Really, did it matter? It was a week before Christmas, Snowflake Village was indeed completely magical, and if she went into the evening with zero expectations, she couldn't be disappointed, right? She'd dance, she'd eat, she'd laugh with her friends … and she'd go home. Alone.

She sighed, imagining her eggs curling up with their tiny egg-sized afghans, calling it an evening already.

“You ready?” Molly had her gloved hand on the door, ready to pull it open.

“Nope.”

Molly swung the door open and motioned Piper through. “Come on, Suzy Sunshine. Your Prince Charming could be just beyond these doors.”

*   *   *

An hour later, it was clear that Piper's Prince Charming was somewhere far beyond Echo Lake, Vermont.

“Exactly how many of these match-up dances do I have to endure before we can leave?” Piper took a slug of her punch, then made a face as the fruity sweetness assaulted her tongue. “Ethan, can you please work on getting a liquor license before next year? It'd really help if we could dull our pain with alcohol here.”

Molly laughed as she pulled up a chair at their table, stealing a cookie from Ethan's plate. “You've only—
endured
—six dances so far.”

Six dances or twenty, it was eight o'clock, and Piper was already dying to leave. Every single time the deejay had pulled sets of names from the trees, hers had been one of them.

She sighed dramatically. “Have I mentioned how much I hate the singles trees?”

“Yes. A number of times.”

“Have I also mentioned that I'm the oldest person
on
the singles trees?”

“You are not.”

Piper looked at her sidelong. “Mrs. Nebbits does not count.”

“She's older than you.”

“She's older than
God,
Molly.”

Piper looked around the barn, and despite wishing she was at home in her yoga pants rather than in this dress that caught the twinkling lights every time she moved, she had to admit it looked magical. The snowflakes she and Molly had hung this morning were swaying softly above, and the same tiny white lights that glowed throughout the park were strung from the rafters, creating a mystical winter wonderland.

“You know”—Molly jabbed her with her elbow—“it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile.”

“Well, then, I'm getting a better workout, aren't I?”

“Brace yourself.” Molly wiggled her eyebrows as a fast song came to a close. “It's tree time!”

“Ladies and gents, it's time for another match-up dance!” The deejay took his microphone to the front of the stage, where the two trees were loaded with snowflake ornaments. “Will this dance help launch Echo Lake's fiftieth Snowflake Ball marriage?”

Piper made her fingers into a gun and held it to her temple.

For way longer than anyone here could remember, town tradition had been to hold this dance a week before Christmas in hopes of igniting true love, marriage, and babies to carry on the town legacy. The official Echo Lake history book had chronicled forty-nine happy marriages starting right here at the Snowflake Ball, so the pressure was on. Piper'd heard through the grapevine that some reality television exec had been so charmed by the annual tradition that she'd already put dibs on filming lucky couple number fifty's wedding.

She pulled the pretend trigger on her pretend gun.

“All right. Ladies first.” He reached out to the red-snowflake tree and grabbed one from near the top. “Looks like it's … Piper Bellini! Again.”

Piper groaned. “How many of these freaking things did your mother
buy?

“Not sure.” Molly shrugged. “But I might have put your name on a few as well.”

“What did I ever do to you?”

“Maybe I just want to help you find your true love tonight.”

Piper rolled her eyes and took a deep breath as the deejay reached into the blue tree for a snowflake.

“Dougie Potvin!” he called, and she saw Dougie high-five his buddies over by the pies.

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