Holiday in the Wind

Joe- Christmas lights twinkled outside my window, casting patterns on the frost creeping up the glass. It should have been beautiful, but all I could see was a reflection of how my life had unraveled. Three weeks ago, I had a job that I loved, a boyfriend who I thought cared about me, and parents who were proud of their ambitious daughter. Now, I was jobless, single, and sitting squarely under my parents' disappointment. . I tugged at the hem of the sweater Sabrina had forced me into, its ridiculous sequined Christmas tree mocking me. A few days ago, I would have laughed and worn it proudly. Tonight, it felt like a costume. "She's going to love you," Sabrina had teased the sweater earlier, pulling it out of my closet. "We're going to that party, and we're not taking no for an answer. You've been moping for days, Joe. It's Christmas. Time to let a little magic back in." Magic. What a joke. "Let's find you someone who deserves you," Sabrina had added with a wink, brushing off my protests. Now, standing awkwardly by the refreshments table at the party, I doubted anyone deserved the mess I'd become. I kept my head down, sipping punch, wishing I could disappear into the crackling fireplace across the room. The chatter around me faded into a low hum as my thoughts drifted back to the moment Trevor walked out, to the cold tone of my mother's voice, to the heavy silence that had followed the words, You've been fired. I should have fought harder for myself, but how do you fight when even the people who love you don't understand? I sighed and glanced toward the door. Maybe I could slip out without Sabrina noticing. But just as I took a step toward freedom, a deep, teasing voice stopped me in my tracks. "Planning your escape already?" Cash The second I walked into the party, I regretted letting Dean talk me into it. The crowd, the ugly sweaters, the same old Christmas songs on repeat—all noise to me. After being on the road for months, town parties like this were the last thing I wanted. But Dean, my little brother, had insisted. "C'mon, Cash. You've been riding solo too long. It's time to remember what it's like to have fun." Fun wasn't exactly high on my list. My Harley had been my only honest company for the past year, the only thing that made sense when the rest of my life had gone sideways. I scanned the room, trying to spot Dean's obnoxiously bright sweater. My eyes landed instead on her. She wasn't like the rest of the crowd. No loud laughter, no bright smiles, or overly cheerful banter. She stood by the punch bowl, fidgeting with her cup like she was trying to shrink into herself. Something about her caught me off guard. And then I noticed her sweater—a sequined Christmas tree that looked like it was trying too hard. Somehow, it made her look even more lost. Before I could stop myself, I was walking toward her. Joe I turned to see the guy standing behind me. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a leather jacket that looked out of place against the sea of holiday cheer. His dark hair fell in messy waves, and his grin was the kind that seemed to come naturally, like he didn't take life too seriously. "Was I that obvious?" I asked, trying to hide my embarrassment. "A little," he said with a shrug. "But don't worry. I won't rat you out." "Thanks," I said, managing a small smile. "Cash Daniels." He extended his hand, his grin never faltering. "Joe Montgomery," I replied, shaking it. His hand was warm, rough—like someone who worked with his hands, someone used to the wind and the road. A voice boomed from across the room before I could ask him anything else. "Mistletoe alert!" I froze, glancing up. Sure enough, the tiny sprig dangled just above us. "Well," Cash said, leaning in slightly, his grin turning playful. "I think this means we're stuck." "Stuck?" "Yup. Rules are rules." Before I could argue, he closed the gap, his lips brushing against mine. The kiss was soft and brief, but it was enough to send a warmth through me that the punch and fireplace couldn't match. His grin was still there when he pulled back, but his eyes looked different—curious as if he'd felt it too. "Merry Christmas, Joe," he said, his voice lower now, almost serious. I didn't reply. I couldn't. All I could think was that maybe, just maybe, Sabrina had been right. Cash I didn’t believe in Christmas miracles. Hell, I didn’t believe in much these days. But the moment my lips touched hers, something shifted. It wasn’t just the kiss. It was how her breath hitched, and her green eyes widened when she looked at me like she wasn’t used to feeling noticed. I’d kissed her because it was funny, and the mistletoe left no other option. But now, standing here, watching her cheeks flush and her lips part like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope. The wind and the road had been my home for so long, but now, for the first time, I wondered if maybe I’d stopped here for a reason.