Witching You Weren’t Snowed In (Witching You #2)

Chapter 9

Sage

“I thought you preferred toxic caroling,” Leo said, angling his head toward the group of festive singers decked out in red and green, greeting families as they approached Santa’s insulated tent. Multi-colored lights and giant bows decorated the space, while velvet ropes with gold stanchions contained the kids line, eager for their turn.

I took in the delicious scent of cinnamon mixed with the faint aroma of cocoa and elbowed Leo in the ribs.

“Just smile. You’re doing great.”

“I am smiling. I think my face might be frozen in this position. I may never frown again. What’s a villain to do?”

I jabbed him again and nodded innocently as a mother chased her daughter to a stop in front of Leo’s basket full of candy canes. He offered the kid one, then winked and pulled another one from behind her ear. The girl giggled and clutched both candy canes to her heart before racing off into Santa’s tent .

“You do magic, too?” I groaned. This plan was a disaster! Yes—it was brilliant and already starting to work—but it was impossible to stay mad at a handsome elf who could do party tricks. Where was my shrewd internal voice to warn me of the consequences of my actions? Was she also drunk on Leo’s appeal, like some tipsy sprite who fell into the holiday punchbowl?

“Don’t be jealous. You’re still the best witch in town.”

Pressing a hand to the small of my back, he moved me closer to the portable heater and held out the basket as another family passed.

Ugh, chivalry is alive and well and looks good in a felt hat.

I needed to focus. While it had been fun seeing everyone’s surprised reaction to Leo’s participation, there were plenty of disapproving looks in the crowd. Thankfully, there were a few appreciative ones as well. Many from frazzled parents, happy for a quick breather while Leo amused a child waiting to see Santa with a joke.

The amount of dad jokes he had up his sleeve was both alarming and weirdly attractive.

“So, when does the riot start?” Leo asked, eyeing the line that had dwindled.

We’d been Santa’s sentries for a couple of hours, and though the meet and greet portion of the day was almost over, many who’d come through the line still mingled in the square waiting for the announcement I’d teased in Friday’s edition of the Gazette .

The carolers kept the crowd entertained and food vendors supplied them with sweet treats and warm drinks. I checked my phone, confirming Valerie was ready for part two of the plan.

“I think now’s a good time. Leave the basket,” I said, grabbing Leo’s sleeve and tugging him through the crowd. We made our way toward a raised platform setup with a microphone stand. Off to the side was a giant red curtain, with Valerie manning a rope mechanism.

This was where things got tricky, and the whole plan could go off the rails. If Leo balked or no one agreed to play, the day would slide right into awkward territory. Leo’s riot could become a reality.

But I’d learned two things since coming home. First, Leo was surprisingly game for anything, and second, sometimes it was healthy—and a lot of fun—to let people vent their frustrations in a constructive way.

If this worked, the town might finally see Leo as more than his father’s shadow, and not someone willing to strip away what made this town special.

This moment mattered.

The town needed to remember Leo was one of them. That he could dive into their traditions with enthusiasm. They needed to see his vulnerability and willingness to face their anger head-on, even if that anger was misplaced. After all, steam only dissipated if given the opportunity.

If they could laugh together, it might be enough to break through their icy barrier. Or I might just be a witch, dressed in an elf costume, spouting tea shop wisdom, and hoping for a miracle.

I stepped up to the microphone and waited for the crowd to go quiet. I cleared my throat, hoping my nerves would settle once I got started. Since becoming an agent, I’d spoken at plenty of events, yet this felt like a new challenge.

My confidence wavered as I sized up the familiar faces. Every instinct urged me to hide the person I used to be, but I was asking Leo to put himself out there. Maybe I needed to do the same thing, too.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to today’s event. My name is Sage Bennett, and for those who don’t know me, I grew up here. I’m the reason no one is allowed to eat or drink anything at the high school science fair.”

The crowd chuckled, warming to my speech. I smoothed my anxious hands down my waist and kept going.

“But sleep potions aside, I know you're all waiting for the big announcement, and I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. We all know Leo Grayson is the new owner of the ski lodge, and it’s no secret there’s some unfavorable history there. I tried to attack him with a whisk in the tea shop when I first arrived home, and that was before I even knew about the lodge. Sorry about all the flour, Dad,” I said, waving when I spotted him in the crowd unwrapping a slab of fried dough dusted with powdered sugar. He gave me a thumbs up, then went back to eating his snack while my mother leaned in and most likely scolded him about his sugar intake .

“That said, I’m here to tell you Leo wants to make things right. He knows what you've lost and he plans to rebuild the community skating rink and a new gazebo on the resort grounds.”

A murmur of surprise flowed through the crowd.

“Let me tell you why this matters. Tradition is important in this town. The memories we have skating each winter, or sharing some of the most cherished moments of our lives under the gazebo, shouldn’t go away because of a business deal. Our voices matter. Our landmarks matter.

“But the thing is, Leo can’t do it alone. That’s where you come in. We’ve planned a series of fundraisers to help get this project off the ground in the hopes we can fund the rink by Christmas. The first fundraiser starts right now, and Leo has volunteered to take the plunge!” I pointed to Valerie waiting on the sidelines. She nodded and tugged on the rope, pulling the curtain back to reveal a giant dunk tank filled with a ball pit that resembled a mountain of snowballs.

I glanced at Leo to get his reaction. He’d dropped his head into his hands, but there was a smile toying with his lips, and he hadn’t bolted, so I pressed onward.

“That’s right—today you get to dunk Leo—our fearless elf. For charity, of course. Each shot helps fund the rink, and it’s a great way to let off a little steam. I know I have some aggravation to get out. This elf gear is itchy.” I picked up a softball and tossed it in the air, catching it in my palm. “So, who’s up first?”

I searched the crowd, hoping desperately for a volunteer .

No one moved. The gathering had gone eerily silent. A cough echoed in the air, and you could hear the crinkling of the wrapper from my dad’s fried dough.

Disappointment tangled around the growing icicle in my chest. Worse than subjecting Leo to this public display was seeing him twist in the wind. His open-minded smile had vanished, and I felt it like a punch to the gut. I knew at that moment how much their acceptance meant to him.

The same way I had longed to feel accepted. This wasn’t some silly bargain where I helped him recoup his investment. This was his life.

“I’ll give it a shot.” The voice broke through the silence in the crowd.

Mrs. Avery, the owner of the coffee shop, stepped forward, approaching the raised platform. Relief melted through me, but I braved a glance at Leo. Mrs. Avery had poured salt in his drink, and now she was going to pour salt in his wounds. This was the best possible outcome or a potential death knell in my plan. Tough to call.

Leo straightened his shoulders, giving me a look that spoke volumes. He still trusted me. Please, please, please, don’t let this plan fail, I chanted as he took his place inside the tank.

Mrs. Avery handed over a crisp five-dollar bill, and I handed her the softball. The crowd watched with a tense stillness as she stood on the marked spot and stared at her opponent.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to throw up or sing “ Joy to the World”.

Mrs. Avery drew back her arm and let the ball fly .

It was off the mark, slightly higher than it should have been. With a flick of my wrist, I sent a gust of air to weigh it down. A second later, it slammed into the target.

Leo’s eyes widened as the seat beneath him released, dropping him into the ball pit. He swam through plastic to the surface, his elf hat lost somewhere in the pit. When his eyes found mine again, I knew he saw me rig it. He mouthed the words ‘well played’ and flashed me a two and, then a zero with his fingers.

Mrs. Avery had tears in her eyes. She laughed and wiped at her lashes.

“That felt surprisingly good,” she said, then faced the crowd. “I say we give this boy a chance. Let him prove us wrong. Because I’d love nothing more than to lace up my skates again! Who’s next?”

Hands shot in the air as a line formed. The carolers broke into another song while Valerie swooped in to collect donations.

I stepped outside of the crush, watching from the sidelines as excitement swelled. Dropping my head back, I studied the cloudless sky. It hadn’t snowed once since I’d agreed to help Leo. That might be a coincidence, but it might also be progress. I certainly felt more like myself than I had in a long time.

“Hot chocolate for my clever girl?” my dad asked, joining me with a cup topped with mini marshmallows.

“Yes, please!” I accepted the cup and sucked a few of the marshmallows into my mouth .

“It’s good to see you two kids’ friends again.” My dad kept his gaze on the dunk tank as Leo took another plunge.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said, cringing at the frost in my tone. “I’m helping him out with this project. Nothing more than that. Besides, we were never that close.” I rubbed my arms, trying to ward off the chill. “It’s complicated.”

He sighed and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Never seemed that complicated to me. We miss having you home, you know. It seems like you ran off there for a little while.”

“I needed a reset,” I said, amused by the comparison between Old Sage and the agency's initiative for sending me home.

“Try to have some fun while you’re here. Don’t work too hard.”

“Doesn’t it look like I’m having fun?” I asked, tilting my head until the bell on my elf hat jingled.

He chuckled and squeezed my shoulder. “That was a good speech. You should be proud of yourself—forget what everyone else thinks. Including your mother. She means well.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Finish your hot chocolate. I’ll go relieve that boy. I'm sure Leo’s ready for a break, and I’ve always wanted to sit in one of those things. Plus, your mother will empty her wallet to see me drop.”

The sun had set, and the twinkling lights shined brighter as I walked through the square, stopping to chat or joke about who had the best throwing arm. The frosty air puffed in white clouds in front of my face, and I could barely feel my toes in the poorly insulated boots.

Elves might live in the North Pole, but their clothes weren’t made for the cold weather.

“There you are.” Leo pushed his way through a group of people listening to a local band that had replaced the carolers. “Geez, you look freezing.” He reached for my hands, sandwiching them between his own, then blew hot air against our skin. “Do you have any idea how much money we’ve raised from the dunk tank alone? And Valerie said others have promised to stop by the lodge and contribute. There are still a few naysayers, but people are coming around. You are incredible.”

I blushed, trying not to enjoy Leo’s touch too much. I was cold enough that if he gave me the opening, I’d launch myself at him to see if my witchy heat conduction thing worked on body heat.

“Santa’s the real hero. I just work for him.”

Leo chuckled. “Such a modest witch.”

“You did good today. I thought for sure you were going to run when Valerie pulled back the curtain.”

“I thought about it. But have you tried to run in these shoes? What’s more embarrassing: a dunk tank or slip-sliding away in an elf costume?”

“Good point.”

“Hey, Mr. Grayson, over here!” A man with a camera and a lanyard waved to get Leo’s attention. The man jogged over as I pulled my hands from Leo’s and folded them against my chest to maintain the warmth.

“Can I get your picture for the paper? We’re going to run an article on the rink construction and it would be great if you could answer some questions.”

“Sure,” Leo said.

I stepped out of the frame, letting him have his moment, but Leo reached for me again and pulled me against his side. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and I looked up in shock as the camera snapped a photo.

“Smile for the paper,” he murmured.

Another snap of the camera forced my gaze away, even as Leo drew me closer, tucking the top of my head under his chin.

“I’m glad you’re back, Bennett,” he said, lowering his voice so only I could hear.

My throat tightened as if it could stop my response, but I forced the words out, anyway. “I’m not staying.”

His long exhale ruffled my hair. “Then I guess you’re mine until Christmas.”