Troping Through the Snow by Alexa Riley

“I didn’t know your size,” I say to her as I hold her hand out in front of me and trace her ring finger. “Will this one do?” I take the gold band with small diamonds going all the way around it and slide it on until it sits perfectly in place.

Looking up into Joy’s eyes, I see small tears begin to form before she clears her throat and nods. “Yeah, it’s great. Thank you.” Then she smiles as I hold out my hand and wait for her to pick up the gold band and put it on me. “Are you sure?”

“Are you really asking me?” It’s my turn to smile down at her. “I already signed the paperwork. I’m not backing out over a piece of jewelry.” The feeling of her sliding my wedding band on is warm and comforting, and when I look down at it, I’m filled with a sense of pride. “I think I like the look of it.”

I flex my fingers a few times to try it out, and a little while later, we leave the store hand in hand. My grandmother's ring is at my house, and although I have the urge to run home and get it, I don’t want to do too much to scare off Joy too fast.

“North,” she says a little while later when we’re in the car on the way home. I could feel her getting nervous when I turned into the driveway, so I shut off the car and face her. I see worry etched in her brow, and I take her hands in mine. “This is crazy, right? Do you feel like this might be the craziest thing any two people have ever done?”

“I’m not sure about that.” I reach up and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Jack wanted to marry Tinsel, and I think that’s pretty insane.”

The corners of her lips turn up in spite of herself. “You know what I mean.”

“Did Tinsel ever tell you about my grandparents?” I ask, and she shakes her head. “Let’s go inside, and I’ll tell you.”

The task seems to calm her nerves, and when we go inside, I take her to the living room so we can sit on the sofa and talk. I start a quick fire and bring her some hot cocoa before I settle in beside her.

“My grandmother came to Troping when she was about nine years old. She was the new kid in a small school, and my grandpa was in the same grade as her.”

“Did she love him right away?” Joy asks, and I shake my head.

“Oh no, far from it.” I laugh. “She hated him, and it has to do with a game of marbles. She says she was beating him, and he got mad and messed it up. He never admitted to that, but that was always her story.”

“So what changed for them?” She sips her hot cocoa, and there’s a cute little layer of marshmallow on her lips. I watch her lick it off.

“Well, just because my grandmother didn’t feel love right away, that didn’t stop my grandfather. When he told the story, he said that she loved marbles and would challenge anyone in the school to a game. One day he got the courage to play against her, and after a while, she was winning. The problem was he had a shot he could have taken to beat her. So instead of taking the shot, he messed up the game so she would think he was a jerk.”

Joy laughs and furrows her eyebrows. “Why would he do that?”

“He said that he knew he could come back from being a jerk, but that he couldn’t come back from beating her at something she loved.” I shrug as I look in the fire and think about what I would have done in his place. “He said he knew the moment he first saw her that she was the one, but he had to work to convince her to feel the same.” I take her hand in mine and run my thumb over the band on her ring finger. “He told me that sometimes love takes a little time to meet in the middle.”





CHAPTER 9





JOY





The story North told me about his grandparents was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. When you come from a town that is Christmas all year long, there are dozens of sweet love stories. But that one is my favorite by far, and it’s no wonder a lot of people say there is magic in the air here. The longer I live here, the more I believe it to be true.

I spin the wedding band around on my finger and think to myself that it really is a beautiful ring. One I could never afford. It’s simple, but with all the diamonds around it, it looks expensive. It’s different because it’s a wedding band and usually only men wear them. Traditionally a woman has an engagement ring and then you slide the band against it during the ceremony. I guess North and I are anything but traditional.

While I ate up the story of his grandparents, I understand why North didn’t give me that ring. It’s a big deal, and it’s meant for true love. I felt a small spark when he said sometimes love has to meet in the middle, but I don’t think North has feelings that are anything like love toward me. Honestly, it’s hard to get much of a reaction from him at all.

Was the sex out of this world? Yes. Although what do I have to compare it to? He’s the only guy I’ve ever slept with. I’ve been in Troping for months, and he’s never shown interest in me before last night. That was only to see if we were compatible sexually, and it turns out that wasn't a problem at all. I thought it had to mean something, but maybe I’m mixing love and lust. At this rate, the only thing I’m going to end up with is a broken heart.

North was right about one thing. The small touches when we were out for breakfast felt natural. He’d never done that before, and when I think back on it, I realize that he never touches anyone. At the diner, he played it up, and everyone believed the story that we’re in love and got hitched quickly because of it. I’m sure the rumors are already swirling. They might think we’ve been hiding the fact that we were married or—