"I don't mean right now," Preston says, quickly reading my face.

"Oh." I visibly relax.

"But maybe ...soon?" Preston smiles.

"Preston," I sigh. "I have a lot to figure out–"

"Your new friend?" He asks.

"That's not –I mean, that's only a part of it." I swallow hard, diverting my eyes to the dark pathway carved into the snow by numerous horses and carriages.

"And the other parts?"

"I wanted to get away from this place, this town, my whole life. I love my life in New York, I do," I insist. "But then I come home, and everything clicks, and it's like maybe this fits too."

The carriage lurches to a stop beside the heat lamp. I didn't even realize we'd made a whole loop already. Preston helps me down the step, still holding me hand as my booties hit the slushy pavement.

"Look, let's not worry about it tonight. Tonight is Christmas Eve. I think we need to get you some of that figgy pudding inside," Preston says, grinning. "Maybe some of that mulled cider."

"Preston," I say, starting to smile myself. "We can't just ignore this and–"

"We aren't," he says, shaking his head. "It's a temporary hold."

I let his arm around my shoulder steer me towards the open door. I can feel the warmth spilling out from inside. Warmth and cookies and Christmas tree pine.

Preston's pocket starts ringing and he fishes his phone out. He glances at the caller ID before frowning.

"Have to take this. My parents," he says, waving his phone.

I say bye and watch him skirt off back to the sleigh ride line. He stops between the heat lamp and the mesh trashcan and starts jabbering into his phone.

I spin on my heels and brace myself to reenter the barn and discover all the promise it holds.

I finally spot Stella and Dani at a high-top cocktail table on the right side of the stage. They're dressed in matching sweater dresses and tights.

"Aren't you guys the best-looking couple at this place?" I tease.

"Oh, stop it," Stella giggles. Dani kisses her on the cheek. "Where've you been?"

"More importantly who've you been with?" Dani smirks.

"Preston," I say quietly. "Riding a sleigh believe it or not."

"Ooo," they squeal together.

"Do we get to meet him? Say we can meet him," Stella asks.

"Yea, not picking sides here, but Stella showed me a pic and I might be team P." Dani winks.

"He's outside right now. Phone call," I say, my eyes dropping to the holly centerpiece on the table.

I spot their glasses of eggnog and my heart flutters.

"There's a whole table over there," Stella says, reading my mind.

"Oh, so there is," I mumble.

I turn to see the table in full. Cheap plastic glasses are lined in rows across the white tablecloth, each one filled with eggnog. I'm sure it's not as good as Nik's eggnog.

"And no, we haven't seen him yet," Stella says, again with scary precision.

"I'm starting to think maybe he didn't show. Maybe Preston scared him off," I say, biting my lip. I search above all the heads in the crowd. I'll know Nik's chocolatey hair when I see it.

"Please. No way Preston scares off Nik," Dani says.

"Zero way," Stella agrees. "Nik doesn't strike me as someone who scares easily."

"I guess not," I say. "Still, I hope he'll talk to me."

"And why wouldn't he?" Stella asks, eyes narrowed.

"No reason. I just mean I hope he will listen to me, and we can talk things out and..." I stop talking. what do I hope?

I excuse myself and start walking with determination. I break through the chaotic dancers and reach the far side of the barn. It's set up with refreshment tables, stalls for small gifty items like homemade cookies and hand-knitted ornaments. The nearest table has a display of wine bottles-turned candles.

My eyes scan the tables and fall on one halfway down the line. It's got a white tablecloth, strewn with woodsy pinecones, and glass jugs of thick creamy eggnog. I pick one up to read the words printed on the brown-paper label.

Allison's All Spice Eggnog

My heart swells. I turn over the cool glass in my hands and read the back recipe. Eggs, heavy cream, cloves, orange zest, yada yada... I see his name at the very bottom, next to the sell-by date.

So it's his dead wife's eggnog recipe. It makes it that much more special!

"Help yourself to a jug. On the house," Nik says beside me.

"Oh!" I jump, half started, like Trotter in Christmas lights. The eggnog almost slips through my fingers, but Nik is already catching it for me.

I allow myself to notice him fully –notice that this is the most spiffed up I've seen him since we met. His navy sweater is snug around his arms and his beard is trimmed as close as possible without being shaved.

"Just get here?" Nik asks.

"I–" I look around at his table, searching for a subject to change the topic of conversation. "How come you never told me about this."

"About the eggnog? I think you knew, Noe," he says, bemused.

"Yea, that you made it. Not that it was your wife's family recipe and legacy!" I almost whisper.

"Fiancé," Nik corrects me. He looks at me strangely. "Does that change how you like the eggnog?"

"No, no. Not at all," I mumble awkwardly. "I just, I'm surprised that's all. It's a great recipe."

"Yea, I was surprised Allison shared it too," he laughs, eyes crinkling.

"Is that yours? On the table over by the truffle trays?" I think back to the eggnog glasses by Stella and Dani's high-top.

"Complimentary," Nik says.

"Kind of you."

"'Tis the season, or something." Nik smirks.

"Hey, you sound like me last week," I tease.

Nik laughs, shaking his head. "So how long are you staying? Do you have company here?"

I can hear it in his voice –by company he means Preston.

"I do, yes." I fidget awkwardly. I wish I hadn't worn my heels tonight; it'd be easier to avoid meeting Nik's gaze. "Look, Nik–"

"I get it," he interjects. He starts turning back to the other side of the table.

"I don't think you do though," I insist.

"You were just here to hide out, right? Always temporary."

"I mean, at first, yes. But things –I don't know what I feel between us," I say, taking a step in towards him. "I just know that I feel it."

"And what does that mean?" Nik asks.

"I wish I knew right now," I admit aloud. "Preston surprised me. I just wasn't prepared for it all. And now you. Doesn't help that it's Christmas and I'm living back at my parents' house and..."

"It's Christmas Eve," Nik echoes. "Why don't you search for some inspiration? Have some cocoa or eggnog."

"Right, because I'll find my answer in a holiday beverage," I quip.

"Maybe you already know the answer. It will just help you listen to it." Nik lifts his hand and grazes the side of my cheek. My skin tingles at his warm touch. We are standing in the middle of a crowded barn, but it's like no one else is around.

It's all merry and bright and Christmas Eve night –this cinnamon-scented time-lapse where everything and everyone jumbles together. I've been at the Barn Benefit for 100 years, but I also just got here.