Catch Yourself a Snowmance (Have Yourself a Merry Little #2)

Epilogue

CARSON

~ Around two months later ~

Tell her that you love her.

You’ve got nothing to lose

and you’ll always regret it if you don’t.

~ Daniel, Love Actually

I knock on the door, my glove muffling the sound.

“Hello?” I shout.

The door opens and Alyssa’s standing there, her hair curled for the occasion. She’s wearing a long skirt and a red sweater. Black boots. We stare at one another, smiling.

“Hey,” I say with a grin that won’t quit.

“Hey, Carson.” My name passes her lips with sweet familiarity.

The way she says it makes my smile stretch wider.

Almost nine weeks ago, we were locked in a cabin together with our closest friends. And every day since then, I’ve either called her, or come by, or taken her out. We’ve hung out at my home or hers. When she got a cold in January, I brought her soup and vitamin C. When my sister got married, she came to the wedding as my date. And we were in the wedding party for Liam and Noelle. Of course, Noelle nearly lobbed Alyssa, trying to get her to catch the bouquet. And, most recently, Alyssa came to Gage’s house with me for the Super Bowl. She even brought a sharing size bag of Doritos.

When I wake each morning, she’s on my mind. When I go to sleep, she’s my last thought.

“You look … Wow,” I tell her.

Alyssa smiles that shy smile she gets whenever I compliment her.

“You look wow too,” she says.

“Personally, I think it’s the lack of Dorito dust that’s making this whole outfit work so well.”

“Stop!” She laughs. “I was so very, very wrong. Okay?”

“I just like to hear you admit it every so often,” I tease her. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. I’m ready to go to …”

“To dinner,” I say with a wink.

Alyssa shakes her head at me. She’s been trying to get the details of our date out of me all week. I’m determined to surprise her. After all, it’s Valentine’s Day.

And, yes. The guys have been having the time of their lives at my expense, teasing me about how my priorities have shifted over the past two months. Last year, I had no clue it was Valentine’s. When Liam refused to make plans with the three of us so he could take Noelle out, I actually pouted, saying something along the lines of, we never see you anymore now that you have a girlfriend . Ah, how the mighty fall.

“Let me just get my coat,” Alyssa says .

I step into her house, following her to the coat rack in her foyer and taking the coat off the hook for her. I hold it open and she slips her arms into the sleeves. Then I spin her around and place a soft kiss on her lips, careful not to smudge her lipstick.

“I’m so lucky,” I tell her, remembering the advice Liam gave me before Christmas on our last morning at the cabin.

I’ve lived up to it the best I can, always telling Alyssa how I feel, reminding her how special she is to me, never leaving room for her to guess or wonder.

“We’re lucky,” she corrects me. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me where we’re going?”

“I’m sure. It’s a surprise. And you told me you like surprises.”

“I do. You’re right. Thank you for remembering.”

I hold the door open and Alyssa walks past me, the scent of her perfume wrapping around me.

“You smell good.”

“All these compliments will get you everywhere,” she teases me.

The drive from Waterford to Franklin takes an hour and a half. I hand over the reins, telling Alyssa she can pick all the songs. She’s got great taste in music. We talk about work, what we did all day, and sometimes we sing along to a song she picks.

“You don’t have to sing,” she teases me. “You could hum.”

“Ahhh. That’s a low blow.”

She smiles over at me. “I’m kidding. You can sing.”

“I totally can’t, so I shouldn’t.”

Her hand falls on my forearm, a gentle touch. “I like it when you sing, Carson. Even if it’s not ever going to make it on a record.”

“Trust me. It’s totally not. Can you imagine?” I chuckle. “You, however … ”

“I’m never going to be on a record.”

“You could. You totally could.”

Alyssa shakes her head. It’s not even false modesty. As good as she is, she doesn’t always agree to sing in front of others. She’s not embarrassed, just private, and sometimes nervous. But when those nerves leave her, she gets lost in the song and there’s nothing like it. She has a voice that stops people in their tracks. A voice that shoots straight to the soul.

“You’re heading toward Nashville,” Alyssa says about halfway through the drive.

“Sort of. We’re not going to Nashville.”

“No?”

“No. Just outside Nashville a little.”

“Hmmm.” She taps her finger on her chin and looks over at me with a playfully inquisitive spark in her eyes. “Hendersonville?”

I shake my head. “Mount Juliet?”

“Nope.”

“Columbia? Though that’s a little far, right?”

“It is.”

“Ashland City? It’s awfully cold for kayaking.”

“We’re not kayaking.”

“Phew. This skirt would not survive. But I’d love to kayak this summer with you.”

“Deal. Let’s do it.”

We assume our short-term future on a regular basis, and privately, I assume a whole lot more. I’ll let her in on those hopes and dreams in due time.

“Lynchburg?”

“Nope.” I smile over at her.

I don’t care if she guesses the town. We’re about thirty minutes from her finding out anyway .

“Shelbyville?”

“Are you consulting a map on your phone?” I glance over at her and then back at the road stretching ahead into the darkness. The light from her cell illuminates her features.

“Mayyybe. Leipers Fork?”

“No, but I did consider that as a close runner up when I was making plans.”

“Franklin! Is it Franklin? You know I love Franklin!”

“Ding. Ding. Ding. You win!”

“Awww, Carson. You’re taking me to Franklin for Valentine’s?”

“I am.”

She shakes her head lightly and smiles over at me. “You’re the best.”

“I hope you keep believing that.”

“How could I not?” She says it so easily.

We drive along with the music filling the car, pulling into downtown Franklin about twenty minutes later. We circle through the public square. Historic brick buildings and trees line both sides of the street. I find parking right near the restaurant.

“I’ve always wanted to eat there,” Alyssa says absentmindedly when I come around the car to open her door.

She’s pointing up to the marquis-style sign over the doorway.

“You don’t say?” I wink at her.

“Wait. You made dinner reservations at Grays?”

“Yes. I did. Noelle gave me some hints as to what you might like.”

“Well, thank you, Noelle.”

I grab Alyssa’s hand and interlace our fingers. We walk into the restaurant and approach the hostess. The double-high exposed ceiling gives the room a larger feeling even though it’s a bit narrow. The walls are brick and the fixtures wood.

“Carson for two,” I tell the hostess.

“Oh, yes. I have you here. Follow me, please.” The hostess grabs two menus and leads us through the restaurant all the way to the table I reserved—one of the few at the edge of the stage.

“Carson?” Alyssa says as she takes off her coat and drapes it over a chair at our table.

“Hmmm?”

“Is there going to be music?”

“Mm hmm.”

We take our seats.

A woman at the table behind us apparently overheard Alyssa’s question.

She raises her voice and exclaims, “Addison Walker’s singing tonight!”

“What?” Alyssa looks at me. “Addison Walker? You know she’s one of my favorites.”

“I know.”

I’m feeling so good right now I could float out of the room on the look Alyssa’s giving me. She reaches across the table. “Carson. This is amazing. Thank you.”

She lifts out of her chair just enough to stretch across the table and place a soft kiss on my cheek.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” I tell her, clearing my throat.

She affects me like no one else on earth. Making her happy has become a sort of mission for me. I love the way she lights up at the smallest things. Not that what I’ve arranged for tonight is small.

The waitress comes and takes our order. She lights the candle between us and leaves, taking our menus with her.

I reach across the table and take Alyssa’s hands in mine.

“I have something important to tell you,” I say.

“You’re relocating? ”

“What? No. I’m definitely not relocating.”

“You got a raise?”

“No. I didn’t get a raise.” I chuckle. “This is about us.”

“Okay.” Alyssa’s blue eyes are fixed on mine. I run my thumbs over her knuckles.

“It’s been two months since we started dating,” I remind her.

“I know.”

“Two months of my life being totally rearranged—in the best of ways.”

She smiles.

“And I know some people might think this is fast, but we did have a crash course in getting to know one another.”

“It was an intensive.”

“Back then Liam gave me some advice. He told me to make sure you always know how I feel about you—about us.”

“He did? That’s so thoughtful.”

“Yeah. I’m grateful. It had been a while since I’d been with anyone. He didn’t want me messing this up.”

She laughs. “It had been a while for me too.”

“I know.” I give her hands a light squeeze. “So, I want to tell you how I feel. About you. About us.”

Alyssa’s intently staring at me, a soft, open expression on her face.

I take a breath. “I really like you, Alyssa. I love spending time with you. You make me laugh. I can be myself with you, whether that’s being goofy or serious. And I’m amazed by you. You’re so intelligent, thoughtful, creative, and you have a lot of hidden talents. As if that isn’t enough, you’re beautiful. You’re the kind of woman who makes me want to rearrange my life just to see you smile.”

She lifts one of her hands out of mine, but leaves me holding the other. Then she tucks a strand of hair back behind her ear and looks down for a moment.

“Carson.”

“Alyssa,” She looks straight into my eyes. “I want you to know I’m falling for you. I think my feelings started growing that week in the cabin. But now, I discover new pieces of you all the time, and each facet only makes me like you more. I’m in this place I’ve never been before. It’s foreign territory. I’m thinking of you whenever we’re apart. Never quite settled until the next time I see you. Happier than I knew I could be.” I pause. Here’s the part where there’s no turning back. But, like Liam said, if we’re both trying to make this work, there’s no way I’ll mess this up. Telling her will be a good thing. “What I’m trying to say is … well … I love you.”

“You … ?”

“I love you.” I hold her gaze. “And you don’t have to say anything back to me. I just want you to know. You’ve turned my world around. And I’m amazed. You’re one of the best people I know. I can’t keep my eyes off you. And now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to imagine my life without you. I love you.”

“You love me?”

“I really do.”

“Oh, Carson.” Her voice is soft. The room has gotten incrementally noisier as more people have filled the tables around us, but I hear Alyssa loud and clear. “I love you too.”

I smile at her. It seems so unbelievable that we’ve actually fallen in love—that she loves me too—but the look in her eyes tells me everything. She does love me.

I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss it. She smiles softly over at me.

“This is a pretty good surprise,” Alyssa says right as the waitress brings our appetizers .

We split bacon wrapped figs and the famous fried pimento cheese balls while the band takes the stage to warm up. Alyssa’s beaming the whole time, her eyes mostly fixed on the stage, but glancing over at me regularly with a smile that goes all the way to her eyes. I hope I get this next part right.

Addison Walker takes the stage and walks to the center mic. “Good evening to y’all. I hope you’re having a happy Valentine’s whether you’re here with the one you love, or here to forget the one you don’t.”

The crowd laughs lightly.

“I’m Addison Walker. And this is Washboards and Whistles. They’ll be helping me out a little bit tonight.”

Addison sings a few songs and Alyssa watches in rapt attention. When Addison gets to one of her top hits, she encourages us all to sing along with the chorus. I don’t. Alyssa does. And, as much as I’d like to watch Addison, I’d far rather watch Alyssa, so I do.

When the band plays the final note, Addison says, “So, this next one is a favorite. A lot of you probably know it: From Me to You .”

The crowd claps and cheers. Alyssa looks over at me and whispers, “That’s my favorite song of hers.”

“I know.” I wink at her.

Addison says, “When I wrote this song, I had just gone through one of those breakups that feels like someone dragged you down the highway behind a Mack truck, turned onto a gravel road and accelerated. I was pretty banged up emotionally. In my mind, he was the one. But we just kept on missing the mark, you know?”

The audience is still. She’s a gifted storyteller.

“So, I sat down and wrote this song about life and singleness and finding the right one, because I knew either this guy would be the one, or someone else would. And I wanted to keep my eye on that reality. I needed the reminder that I was okay without that man, but also that someone, someday, would see me the way I wanted to be seen.”

She smiles out at us. “News flash. He wasn’t the one.” Then she looks over her shoulder. “I had to wait for a certain fiddle player.” The man holding the fiddle winks at her and smiles the smile of a man who would swim the Cumberland in winter if it would make his girl happy.

“A fiddle player, y’all.” Addison shakes her head. “God has a sense of humor, doesn’t he?”

Everyone laughs.

“Anyway, I always like to ask you to sing along when you know a song,” Addison says in her easy, familiar way that has us all waiting for whatever she’ll say next.

“And tonight, I’d like to extend a special invitation. This singer doesn’t even know what I’m about to ask of her. Alyssa?”

Alyssa looks confused. She glances over at me. I nod. She looks even more confounded.

Addison lifts her hand like a visor over her eyes and scans the front tables.

“Alyssa, rumor has it you’ve got the voice of an angel. No pressure, girlfriend, but I thought it would be fun if you came on up here and took a mic next to me to sing From Me to You with me.”

Alyssa points to herself, looks over at me again, and then back up at Addison. “Me?”

“Yes. You.”

Alyssa stands. A waitress walks over to our table and escorts Alyssa up the side stairs onto the stage. A guy hands Alyssa a microphone. He says something to her, points to a button on the mic and then ducks slightly and scurries off stage.

“Let’s hear it for Alyssa, everyone. And for the man who says he’s falling hard for her, Carson! ”

People whistle and cheer. Alyssa smiles down at me.

Smiling’s good. She’s not mad that I put her in the spotlight without any notice.

I smile back up at her.

“Ready?” Addison asks Alyssa.

Alyssa nods and says, “As I’ll ever be.”

“No pressure. I’ll do the heavy lifting. You just join in where you’re comfortable. Okay?”

Alyssa nods. Her eyes land on mine. Sometimes she shuts them when she’s singing. This time, she keeps them fixed on me like I’m some sort of anchor. I couldn’t take my eyes off her if I wanted to.

The song starts up. Addison looks over at Alyssa and starts to sing the first verse. Alyssa misses the first two words, but then her eyes find mine again and she sings. It’s just as captivating as the first time I heard her over a karaoke machine in the living room of that drafty cabin. And she’s still singing for me, all these weeks later.

The two of them harmonize at parts, and as always, Alyssa makes it seem effortless. She starts really smiling about halfway through the song, her confidence growing with each note she hits.

When the song ends, the crowd erupts into applause. Addison looks over at Alyssa and smiles a genuinely impressed smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen, that was Alyssa Buchanan. You might want to remember that name. I’m just sayin’.” Addison turns to Alyssa. “Thank you for being brave and joining me. I’m not joking when I say it was my pleasure. Girl, you can sing.”

Alyssa thanks Addison and then she walks off stage. The crowd claps again.

Alyssa approaches our table.

“You did that?” she asks me.

“I hope you’re not mad. It was a fifty-fifty shot at you being happy with me or wanting to give me a piece of your mind.”

“It must be your lucky night,” she says. “I’m really happy. That was … amazing.”

Addison starts into the next song. I grab Alyssa’s hand and give it a squeeze while I look into her eyes. “You’re amazing.”

We eat our dinner while Addison and the band sing their set of songs. After dinner, the waitress brings a slice of cheesecake to the table. It’s not just any cheesecake, either. It’s campfire s’mores cheesecake. And I had them put a little paper flag on the top that says, “I’m falling for you, Alyssa.”

She pulls it out, reads it and smiles over at me.

“You really outdid yourself, Carson.”

“I couldn’t get them to burn a part of the cheesecake for you.”

She laughs. “Somehow, I don’t think that would be as good as burnt marshmallow.”

Then she reaches around for her purse and says, “I got you something too.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I did. It’s Valentine’s. I wanted to celebrate you and to show you how much you’ve come to mean to me.”

She hands me an envelope, and says, “Open it.”

I carefully tear at the paper and shake the contents out into my hand. Two tickets. When I turn them over, they say, Tennessee Trojan Training Camp: Admit One .

“You got me tickets to training camp?”

“You like them?”

“I love it. But there are two tickets here …”

“I thought we’d go together. Unless you want to take one of the guys. ”

“You want to go to training camp with me?” This woman. She keeps outdoing herself.

“I thought it would be fun.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Are you sure you’re real? I didn’t just dream you up?”

She laughs. “I’m far too feisty to be anyone’s dream.”

“Your feistiness is one of my favorite things about you.” I hold the tickets up. “Thank you. I love them.”

“I got up at midnight the day they were dropping so I could secure them.”

“You … ? Wow. Thank you so much.”

The band closes out their last song and the restaurant turns on piped-in music to keep the ambiance alive while Addison and her musician friends pack up their instruments. We’re polishing off the last of the cheesecake when Addison walks down the stairs from the stage and approaches our table. People stop her along the way, thanking her or asking for selfies.

When Addison makes it to our table, she looks from me to Alyssa. “It was great singing with you,” she says to Alyssa.

“It was great for you?” Alyssa’s voice sounds incredulous.

“It was. You’re really good. Do you sing gigs? In a band? Backup?”

“None of the above. The occasional karaoke. Always in the shower. Sometimes in my car.”

“Wow. Well, if you ever want to crash another gig, reach out. I’d love to sing with you again sometime.”

“Are you … serious?” Alyssa looks at me and then back up at Addison.

“I’m dead serious. I don’t offer to share the stage with just anyone either. You’ve got a gift. The world should be allowed to hear it.”

“Wow. Thank you. Thanks so much. ”

The fiddle player walks up beside Addison and wraps his arm around her waist.

“Hey, I’m Mike,” he extends his hand to me. “The fiddle player.”

I shake his hand. “Carson.”

“Good to meet you, man.”

“Well, we’ll leave you two to it. Here’s my card,” Addison says to Alyssa.

Alyssa looks at the card like it’s a million dollars. “Thank you again.”

Addison and Mike leave us. I pay the check and we drive home. Alyssa falls asleep when we’re on I-40. The road is dark, nothing but trees and landscape as far as the eye can see. I’m as content as I’ve been in years—maybe ever.

When we pull into Alyssa’s driveway, I kill the engine. She rouses.

“We’re home. Your house.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah.” She stretches drowsily and looks over at me.

“Stay there. I’ll get your door.”

I hop out and open Alyssa’s door and then I walk her up onto her front porch. The light is on, casting a golden glow across the wood floor and her face.

“I had the best night,” Alyssa says, looking up at me.

“Me too.”

I wrap my arms around her waist.

“I love you, Carson. And not just because of the massive amount of effort you obviously put into making this night special.”

“I love you too.” The words have so rarely come out of my mouth they almost feel sacred.

I tell my mom and dad, sometimes one of my sisters, usually when they say it first, but I’ve never told a woman I love her. And I’ve never felt the urge to say it over and over like I do with Alyssa.

I reach up and run my hand down her cheek. “You’re gorgeous. You know that?”

“I’m average.”

“Hah! Yeah. Remind me to clean your mirrors next time I’m over. Those eyes alone. Man. What are you doing to me?”

She giggles. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“It’s the abs, right?” I joke.

She smiles. Then she runs her finger along my mouth. “I like your lips.”

“Mmmm.” I hum against her fingertip.

“And I love this.” She runs her hand down my jawline.

“My chin?”

“The scruff at the end of a day, or when you’re taking a day off shaving over a weekend. I don’t know what it is, but I love it.”

“So, don’t shave?”

“Definitely shave. Just keep doing what you’re doing. It works for me.”

“Okay.” I run my hand down her hair. So soft, like silk.

I can’t hold back anymore. My eyes search hers. We kiss all the time. But tonight, it’s more. I’ve said those three words to her. Laid my heart out so she could trample it or handle it with care. I’ve told her I don’t want my life without her in it.

“I love you, Alyssa,” I say before my mouth finds hers.

I cup the back of her head and draw her toward me.

When we kiss, she’s on tiptoes, pulling me with the same intensity and need that mirrors the hold I have on her. A breeze blows through, lifting strands of her hair and blowing them toward our faces. She pulls back, smiling with amusement.

“Let’s try that again,” she says, pulling her hair over one shoulder .

“No complaints here. I believe practice makes perfect. We can practice all night if that’s what it takes.”

“You’re already the perfect kisser,” she says.

And then her lips are on mine and I’m holding her to me, feeling all the ways she affects me. Trying to slow my thoughts from racing into a future where we’re not on a porch saying goodnight.

Her kiss is full of passion, comfort, familiarity and teasing.

I run my hand down Alyssa’s back, letting my hands rest just above her hips. Her arms are looped over my shoulders, her fingers raking through my hair.

When I pull back, I’m smiling down at her. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Alyssa.”

“It’s my new favorite holiday, thanks to you.”

“Wait ’til you see what I pull for St. Patrick’s Day.”

She laughs. “I can’t wait.”

“Me either. I can’t wait for all of it. With you.”

If you loved Catch Yourself a Snowmance , you’ll love watching Noelle fall for Liam in Rent Yourself an Elf .

And keep your eyes peeled in the late fall of 2025 when Tori breaks through Gage’s grumpy exterior with her sunshine in Date Yourself a Grinch !