While Stevie still didn't believe in Christmas miracles, that weekend came the closest to such a thing. After a rocky start to their recording of the spontaneous Christmas album, they marathoned through most of the songs that afternoon and into the evening. A delightful mixture of classic covers and originals. Both Stevie and Maverick got to show off their chops. She didn't mean to ring her own sleigh bells or anything, but Stevie thought everything so far sounded pretty fantastic.

Still, Stevie wanted something more. Something different. She couldn't quite put her finger on what that something was, but she didn't stop from thinking about it as she hummed a song that had been stuck in her head for the past two weeks.

"Mav..." Stevie said. "I feel like our album is... missing something. You know?"

Maverick strummed from his place on the floor, laying down with his feet up against the wall and the guitar rested against his stomach."I don't disagree... What are you thinking?"

"I just..." She had long ditched the piano bench in favor of a chaise lounge near the window. "We have some pop, some jazz, falk, rock—Hell, you even made it through Mele Kalikimaka. I think we're missing out on... Well..."

She couldn't get herself to say it. Mostly because she wasn't sure that was even the missing piece they needed. But also because, well, Stevie had opinions.

It didn't matter, though. Her soulmate understood what she meant—or didn't even know she meant herself—because he switched chord progressions to something with a bit more twang.

"Do we actually live in a timeline where Stevie Kealoha wants to make a country song?"

"You shut your dirty little whore mouth."

The widest smile broke free on Maverick's face. "This is the best day of my life. You want to sing Christmas Cookies?"

Oh. Right. That was the song she kept humming. She should have known he knew it himself.

"I don't have a single country-loving bone in my body," Stevie affirmed. "How dare you suggest that I want to sing a country song."

"So, mom's not from Waimea—"

One of Stevie's first memories was the yearly trips they used to take to the Big Island back when her dad was still alive and her mom still acted like her mom. The latter was born and raised in Waimea, which meant frequent visits back to the cozy, quiet town. Stevie found it magical that the neighbor who lived next door to her mother's childhood home owned horses. The prettiest of which was named Princess. Princess used to trot up to the front gate whenever they drove in to say hello and be fed carrots, her favorite snack. Stevie didn't understand how people kept horses as pets until she realized Waimea was paniolo country. Also known as—

"You don't know a thing about Waimea."

"Cowboy country—"

Stevie stood up. "Oh, that's it, you little shit—"

Maverick had never moved so fast in his life. Screamed the entire way out into the kitchen where he promptly hid behind his much taller partner. Stevie barely had time to process how much flour was spread across nearly every inch of that room.

"Hiding behind your girlfriend is such a bitch move," Stevie snapped.

"Why do you think I picked someone taller than me—"

Everleigh rolled her eyes and stepped to the side, only for Maverick to match her movement. "You're such a spoon, Kingston—"

Brendon looked between them. Half his face covered in flour. His entire face still drop dead gorgeous. "What happened? You two were doing so well."

"What happened is Maverick had the nerve to bring up fuckin' Waimea to suggest that I want to record a country song—"

"Because you fucking did—" the man in question screamed back at her.

"No, I didn't. Stop making things up."

"What genre were you going to say instead, Stev? Go ahead."

Stevie narrowed her eyes. "I don't know. I was just thinking out loud. Maybe I wanted to do... an electronic dance track."

"I'd like to hear it," said the little whore mouth.

"We're not even in the studio," she retorted. "How am I supposed to show you—"

"What's significant about Waimea?" Everleigh asked. The exact question that nobody needed to ask. Because that meant one of the two other losers in the room, both of whom stared at her in varying degrees of concerned and amused, would be prompted to answer.

"Her mom's from Waimea." Brendon did the honors. "It's basically cowboy country on the Big Island."

"Right—"

"Thank you for confirming she does have a cowboy bone in her body—" Maverick said.

Stevie glared at the way Brendon giggled.

Everleigh swatted at Maverick. "Get the fuck out from behind me if you're going to be a shit—"

"Sorry."

"Everleigh." Stevie crossed her arms. "He's being mean to me."

Everleigh shoved her boyfriend out from behind her, and he looked scared and vulnerable out in the open. Good. He should be.

"Did you even bring up that you're the second biggest musician from Windsor?" Everleigh asked. "Behind a country artist—"

"I've sold more units than Shania Twain, thank you very much—"

Stevie gulped. "Oh my god."

"And there it is," Everleigh said. "Shania."

Stevie loved Shania Twain. Everyone loved Shania Twain. But how the fuck did she not know Maverick was from the same city as Shania fuckin' Twain?

After sprinting to the finish line of a surprise Christmas album in what was probably record time, Maverick wasn't about to go down without a fight. He squared up against his girlfriend. Bold for someone whose top of the head she used as an armrest most days.

"Want me to tell Stevie where you were last summer?"

Everleigh gasped. "Asshole."

"Everleigh?" Stevie felt her stomach drop.

Brendon nervously laughed. "I don't think we need to discuss this—"

"Where was Everleigh last summer—

"Cowichan, BC." Maverick didn't hesitate. "Off-roading with my sister at the Sunfest Country Music Festival."

"You're such a dick."

Stevie was embarrassed to know what music festival they were talking about. But to be fair to herself, it was because she saw so many fucking ads about it on Twitter. Was relieved to be so busy that weekend so she didn't have to hear all about it on social media. (She had also muted the name on every platform.)

Unbeknownst to her, Everleigh attended the damn thing.

"Country music festival—" Stevie looked at her, horrified. "Everleigh, tell me he's lying."

The true horror had yet to come, as illustrated in the most terrifying manner by the words that came out of Everleigh's mouth next.

"Brendon was there too."

Even Maverick looked stunned. "Okay, that, I didn't know."

The Aussie turned red. Rudolph's fucking nose kind of red. Visible from down under in the southern hemisphere.

"Oi, you fuckwit." He threw a handful of flour at the snitch.

Stevie forgot how to breathe. "I think I'd rather go back to hearing Maverick tell Brendon to fill his tank."

The former looked horrified; the latter did not look surprised.

"I'm sure there's a moral NDA for music not yet released—" Maverick said.

Stevie crossed her arms. "And as we all know by now, I spit on NDAs."

"Good thing it was a song about Santa, then. Either way. You should still be more focused on them spending the start of August—including your birthday—at a country music festival," he said. As if that could ever be forgotten or ignored.

Brendon went into panic mode right alongside Everleigh. "I actually think we should circle back around to whatever Maverick did to piss you off. Right, Leigh?"

Everleigh nodded. "Absolutely. One hundred percent."

"Remember when I said I didn't want to travel during a blizzard?" Stevie stared straight ahead. Suddenly unsure of life. "I've changed my mind."

"Should get country music fan Everleigh to drive yo—" Maverick paused to look at their taller counterparts. "Wait, what the hell happened to you two?"

"Nothing," Everleigh was quick to say. A little too quick.

"Now that you mention it, Mav." Stevie rubbed her chin. "There's suspiciously low stock of sugar cookies but a high amount of flour on... people."

The guilty parties didn't move.

"It's makeup," Brendon said. "Face was looking a little too oily."

"We're just..." Everleigh paused. "White. Caucasian. What was it? Commonwealth besties."

Stevie pointed at them. "Does this have anything to do with Brendon force-feeding you a cookie—"

"Don't know what you mean."

Maverick leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "I bet you it's still in the sink—"

"Bet it's not."

He raised a brow. "So... we're admitting it?"

"Nope."

Normally, Stevie would have taken Everleigh's side. Not just because she loved her, but for the sake of female solidarity. But if Everleigh wanted a supporter in her, she shouldn't have ditched her birthday weekend for a country music festival. The tall one deserved whatever was coming to her.

"Still there,' Stevie announced, pointing at the glob of saliva-coated sugar cookie.

"Dewey wasn't feeling well." Everleigh's voice wavered. "That was him."

Brendon rolled his eyes.

"I think I..." Stevie nearly gagged. "I might be sick if I keep looking at it. Mav, we need to head back if we're gonna finish this thing."

"With Christmas Cookies, right?"

After the jumpscare in the sink, Stevie wasn't sure she wanted any more cookies.

"Oh," Everleigh said, "I love Christmas Cookies."

Brendon chuckled. "Do you now?"

"The song."

Everleigh glared at him for only a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone. "Anyone want to see a video of Brendon drunkenly shaking his ass to Tim Hicks?"

Maverick perked up. Shameless. "Was it at least Stronger Beer?"

"You know it, babes."

Stevie wanted to throw up. Again.

Thankfully, Stevie didn't have to worry. Brendon tore the phone from her hands before Everleigh could unleash said video upon the rest of the group, and threw it in the water bowl Stevie had bought for Dewey. (Sparkly as fuck.) (So cute.)

"You're so clumsy, Leigh." Brendon smiled, smug as hell.

"You fucking wanker."

"This is like the Capri Sun debacle all over again," Stevie said.

"This is worse." Maverick shook his head. "They can't go outside. Unless... No. They can't go outside."

The last ten minutes left Stevie with a lot of new information to process, and quite frankly, she wasn't sure if she was capable of doing so. "What if I just tap out of this song and sub Brendon in instead—"

"I think Leigh would love to join," Brendon offered. "She's Christmas Cookies' biggest fan."

Everleigh looked ready to dump the remaining flour straight over his head. "I am not a singer."

"I literally have videos of you singing—" Maverick said.

"Those are private," Everleigh whispered.

"Not to all the neighbors."

Brendon jumped back into the ring. "Stevie can make anyone a singer. Are you saying you doubt her abilities?"

Stevie had never seen someone throw daggers with their eyes quite as viscerally as Everleigh did just then.

"Stevie's not part of the song," Everleigh said.

The singer raised a finger. "I'll sing if I get to harmonize with Everleigh."

"I have homework to do," said Everleigh. As if that ever deterred either Maverick or Stevie from trying to rope her into something they wanted her to do. "And I need to take a shower. No time."

"Don't even have to credit you by name," Maverick suggested. "You could be Penny Benjamin."

He kind of earned the middle finger Everleigh gave him for that.

"Spoons don't talk."

"Hear that, babe?" Brendon looked at Stevie. "She doesn't want to sing with you."

Stevie's bottom lip trembled. This was the worst day ever. "Is it 'cause we didn't answer your five hundred texts the other day—"

Everleigh looked ready to take any out that she could. "Do we consider that a viable excuse—"

"I can't believe it." Stevie almost dropped to the floor. "Everleigh hates me. I knew it. I knew she was never going to forgive me for worrying her—"

"Apparently she's fine with letting you spiral, so..." Brendon trailed off.

"The two of you can sing while Stevie and I talk this out," Everleigh reassured her. Except the damage had already been done. The only thing that could cure Stevie now was some fucking singing. "That feels right."

"I don't think she wants to talk," Brendon-the-Stevie-translator said. "She wants to sing, right?

Stevie nodded. "I want to sing."

"Sounds like it's back to you and Maverick," Everleigh quipped.

"Okay, this isn't funny anymore."

Stevie pulled out the big guns. She was owed it. "I just found out they both ditched me on my birthday to go to a country music festival. How do you think I feel—"

There was only so much Stevie could do when Everleigh quickly replied. "I'llDoItIfYouTurnTheMicDown," didn't even sound human. They would have all had better luck trying to read Maverick's journal.

"You can't possibly think I could hear that," Maverick said.

"Not the time to play that card—"

"Come again?" Stevie asked.

"Yeah." Brendon nodded. Looking a little like he was enjoying himself too much. "One more time for the crowd."

If Everleigh had a Brendon doll, she would've stabbed it with a pin. Multiple times. "I need to take the dog out—"

"That's okay," Brendon said. "I'll take him. You should all get started, we'll be right back."

"He actually doesn't like you," Everleigh retorted. Would've been a little more believable if Dewey's tail hadn't already started wagging.

"Hey Dewey—" He snapped his fingers. "—want to go for a walk?"

That was all it took for Dewey to go flying at the front door. He grabbed his leash in his mouth and held it up for Brendon to take, and Brendon did so with the biggest smile on his face. Let it be known that Brendon Ellis never came in last place. Especially not for Christmas.

"Hope you freeze," Everleigh said.

"Hope you're not off-key," Brendon replied.

"He's messing around," Stevie tried to reassure her. "You'll be fine."

"Just to camouflage you in the snow. Don't want you getting eaten." Everleigh had thrown more flour at him. Not that it did anything to deter him. A quick swipe of a kitchen towel against her face and she succumbed to their wishes. Further fighting efforts would be futile, and even Everleigh knew when to wave the white flag. "Let's get this over with, please."

Stevie linked her arm with Everleigh's and started skipping back to the recording room. "Oh, this is gonna be so much fun! Not 'cause it's a country song 'cause those are bad, boo. But you're gonna sound amazing."

"Mhmm," Everleigh hummed. "So much fun."

"Have fun!" Brendon waved.

Everleigh tried to sneakily flip him off. Stevie knew he kind of deserved it. "Get bent!"