Date Night in December

by Jaqueline Snowe

Genres: Women's Fiction

Synopsis

'Tis the season for second chances in this charming and delightful festive romcom—perfect for fans of Maggie Knox and Jenny Bayliss.

He has one month to make a Christmas miracle happen.
 
Laney Reynolds knows there’s only one place that can help her heal a broken heart: Cherrywood Creek. The small town where she grew up, with its holiday festivals and snow-covered streets, is exactly where she needs to be this December. It feels good to leave the bustling city, where her husband was too busy climbing the corporate ladder to notice the growing distance between them. But she’s got his attention now . . .

          Connor received his wake-up call loud and clear when Laney left, and there’s no way he’s giving up on his marriage. If that means dropping everything and trading high-rises for gingerbread houses to sweep his wife off her feet in her hometown, then so be it. This time, he’s listening; but it’ll take more than hot chocolate dates and even hotter nights to win Laney back. Can he prove that being a CEO is nowhere near as important as being her husband?
 

Release date: October 14, 2025

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 368

Sample

Good morning, honey.” My mom ran her hand over my shoulder, squeezing it for a second before beelining toward the coffee maker. “Did you sleep alright? Do you want to use our down comforter?”

I breathed in the smells of home. My dad had woken up early to make my mom and me breakfast, sneaking in his famous fudge on the side. He was a firm believer in the “breakfast dessert” camp, and I loved it. It had been years since I had dessert for breakfast, and I should adopt that way of life again. My new, single life.

“I slept okay, considering…” I waved my bare left hand in the air. My voice cracked when my mom met my gaze, her comforting smile causing my eyes to water. “Don’t look at me like that. Stop it.”

“Honey, I just want to hug you.” She scrunched her face and pointed to the green storage boxes lining the edge of the living room. It was officially the garland-ing in our household. It was an annual day for my parents, and they had had decades of collecting the gaudiest colorful garland. “Your grandfather made me clean the house during my first heartbreak, and it was therapeutic. So can you help me hang these in the welcome foyer?”

“I want to sit here and mope though.”

She clicked her tongue. “Sorry, girly, that’s a no. It’s December first. It’s our favorite time of year, and yes, I want to hold you like you’re eight and watch a Disney movie, but we have work to do.”

I had remained close with my parents over the last decade, but I was rarely home for more than a long weekend, often with my husband. It was comforting to be home with them and see nothing had changed. They still had dinner right at 5:30. My dad would pour a glass of red wine for each of them, and they’d watch their shows right at 7:00. The routine made me feel safe. I knew where they’d be and what they were doing, without question. After living with unknowns and broken promises, I was comfortable being home where I knew expectations.

My mom arched her infamous left brow and put a hand on her hip, and I knew I had no choice. “I won’t be cheery about it, but I can help.”

“Good. We can put on sad acoustic Christmas music if you prefer.”

I snorted. “When did you become sassier?”

“Being alone with your father the last fifteen years.” She took the lid off the first storage bin and handed me blue, gold, silver, and dark green garland. They were all made of tinsel, and the familiar dusty smell brought back years of memories.

I didn’t even have to ask how she wanted them arranged. My mother, a free spirit at heart, liked her garland organized by how she felt about the colors. Dark green was her favorite, followed by silver, and then gold and then blue. As I stepped on the small ladder to place some dark green garland at the intersection of the living room and foyer, right next to the window, I laughed. “I’m surrounded by Christmas fanatics. You and Dad, and Sophia.”

“It’s good for you. Remember, let them loop a good six inches between placing the tacks.”

“Oh, I remember, Mother.” I smiled to myself. The heartbreak was less painful with specific tasks to complete. We worked in silence with Bing Crosby playing in the background, and gratitude overwhelmed me. I was so glad I was home.

“Oh! I forgot to ask you yesterday,” my mom said a good thirty minutes into our garland-ing. “Two questions, honestly. The first: Do you wanna help me and your dad set up the tree tonight? If you want to avoid more festive cheer, that’s fine. But we’re gonna put on Christmas with the Kranks and get tipsy.”

I chuckled. “That sounds great, actually.”

She smiled. “It’s so nice having you home, even if it’s under not-ideal circumstances.”

I sighed. “You can just say it. I’m leaving my husband.”

She winced and twisted her lips in displeasure, pausing as she held on to a purple garland we bought in Vegas one year. “It breaks my heart, hon, ’cause that man loves you, but you need to trust your gut.”

“Am I foolish? Am I being too selfish?” There, I had asked the questions that had plagued me last night. Was I putting my needs first to the detriment of Connor’s? Sure, but at what point can I stand up for myself and my needs? It was a horrible cycle of what came first—the chicken or the egg. There wasn’t a real winner or loser, but either way, our hearts hurt. It was easier to ask my mother while I faced a window. I didn’t want to see any judgment.

I continued, “He’s never been cruel or hurt me or cheated or lied. He’s never done anything so horrible that people would gasp. I was just sad and lonely. Sick of being an afterthought.”

“No. You’re not being foolish or selfish. You’re choosing yourself, and that’s brave and hard. I love Connor; I truly see him as a son. But his work drives him, and I remember you crying that night three years ago when you brought me to an event because he canceled last minute. You tried hiding it from me, but I saw.”

My mom’s confession caused my eyes to sting as I hung the white-and-red garland in a pattern. “There are twenty examples of that from this year. He also forgot our anniversary. I spent weeks negotiating a price for a vintage typewriter, knowing he’d love it. He scheduled a work dinner instead. It broke the final hope I had.”

“You don’t owe me anything, dear. Not to me or your father. You’re in control of your choices and happiness, and we’re going to support you no matter what. We’re here if you want to talk or if you want to cry. Hell, your dad will get drunk with you in the basement while he yells at the Bears again. Stay here as long as you need.”

“I’m having my stuff packed up today. Is that… crazy?”

“If it’s what you need to have peace of mind, then no.” She clapped her hands as she stared at the two windows we had decorated. “Every year, they take my breath away.”

I stepped off the ladder and admired our work. It wouldn’t win any awards, but it was definitely my home.

“Let’s sit and admire, drink our coffee for a minute.”

We made our way to the couch, and she added peppermint creamer to her coffee. Once she sat next to me, she slapped my thigh with excitement. “Oh, did I tell you Ms. Laneri from next door is running one of those rentals now? She stays in the mother-in-law suite in the back and rents out the house. We had the most interesting person stay there last month. They sold rocks, I think. Like, the guy had a spreadsheet of the types of rocks he sells!”

I tuned my mom out as she continued telling me all about rock guy. I cuddled up next to her, and she put her arm around me. It didn’t matter that I was thirty-five. I needed my mom. My assistant, Newt, was taking the photography events for the next two days, letting me mope and get my shit together before I returned for back-to-back weddings. I loved my photography business, but I wasn’t done being sad yet.

“Oh! The other question I had. Becky needs an answer soon, but I figured I’d try to get you some work while you stay here. We have our annual festival starting up tomorrow. Twenty-four days of events, parades, dances, the gala—you know the drill.”

I sure did know the drill. I grew up going to all the holiday activities, loving the magic and happiness in the air here in Cherrywood. My high school boyfriend Matt and I would hit up every event. There was something romantic about the holiday cheer everywhere. It’d be a challenge to get through it while starting a divorce, but I’d manage.

“What about it?”

“They want an event photographer! The mayor wants to do a documentary or something about the town and needs photos or videos to help get more people here. I honestly don’t know the details. I just heard they needed someone, and it was a paid gig.”

I chewed my lip. Taking pictures of happy people didn’t sound like the best choice, but then again, it’s what made me fall in love with photography in the first place—capturing those fleeting moments of utter bliss. The way a snowflake falls on someone’s hair. The crinkling of your eyes when you smile at someone you love. Women drinking hot cocoa, bonding over their decades of friendship.

Okay, my brain had woken up a little from sadness due to the potential here.

“Okay, this sounds interesting.”

“I knew you’d like it! Okay, hon, I’ll pass Becky your number.”

We stayed like that for an hour, watching the news and cuddling until my mom had to get ready for a bridge game. She was a retired artist and still had commissions, but she was so religious about her game circle.

“You sure you’ll be okay alone?” she asked, putting on her puffy coat and hat.

“Yes, Mom. Plus, I have all this garland with me. Who would feel alone with all these colors?”

She narrowed her eyes at me but smiled. “Smart alek.”

“Go bridge. Be wild.”

“Love you.”

“You too.”

She shut the door, leaving me in the quiet. It was strange how I had spent so much time alone living with Connor, yet the silence here was different. I hadn’t yet turned my phone on, but it was time to check in with my best friend, Sophia, to see how the packing was going.

I powered it on, and a text from her popped up immediately.

Soph: Have you seen the news? Check this link.

I hit it and gasped. Connor’s company had had a data breach. Oh shit. I scanned the article, reading a few quotes from him, while my stomach ached. This was one of his greatest worries. Cyberattacks were terrifying and on the rise, and he always said it wasn’t if, but when it would happen to them. He must be so stressed. She felt the same intense urge to help him. I could send him his favorite meal and his lucky shirt. He loved that stupid thing whenever he had a stressful day.

The ideas flowed through me, my mind and body almost going on autopilot.

The need to support him might never go away, but I debated whether to text him. He forgot our dang anniversary a week ago. What would I even say? My chest tightened as I scanned the news again, hoping to find an update from today.

Someone knocked on the front door, so I set my phone down and sighed. Only here, in my hometown, would people actually knock. In our condo, people would leave stuff on the front step and assume we’d check the camera. I missed the personal touch of interactions.

I mentally prepared to see one of my mom’s friends stopping by to say hi or bringing a casserole because she’d told her friends I was here. Honestly, a casserole sounded pretty tasty. Smiling, I twisted the faded gold handle to see a large figure standing there. My smile fell off my face.

Connor.

My heart leaped to my throat, my pulse spiking as his beautiful—and sad—gray eyes met mine. “What…”

“Hey, Laney, can I come in?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his jaw flexing as he studied my face.

Shadows had formed under his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. There was no evidence of my confident, sexy husband. The man who walked into a boardroom and dominated. The man who never shied away from anything.

A blast of wind danced over my neck, causing me to shiver.

“Yeah, sure.”

I swallowed hard as I walked inside my parents’ house. Connor had been here a hundred times before, yet the formality, the not touching him, was so messed up. He blew into his hands before hanging his coat on the rack and facing me.

I couldn’t take it anymore. He hadn’t explained his appearance, and I had to know.

“What are you doing here? Why come here?”

His eyes warmed. “To see you, to talk to you.”

My breath caught in my throat at his admission, but it was too late. Too damn late.

I dug my nails into my palm, needing the sting to ground me. “Why are you doing this? I told you what I want, and you’re disrespecting it,” I snapped, unable to steady my own voice.

“I don’t consider this disrespect,” he said, his tone low. “This is me fighting for you because, baby, I haven’t gone this long without holding you, and it’s killing me. I know it has to be hurting you too.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“I’m not happy about any of this, Connor, but just because it hurts doesn’t mean it’s not the right choice.” I wrapped my arms around myself, needing the barrier. He stepped toward me and placed his large hands on my shoulders, the familiar warmth settling over me like my favorite sweatshirt. My muscles tensed once my brain caught up to the physical touch.

He winced and quickly lifted his hands. “Can I touch you?”

Instead of answering, I moved toward the kitchen. “Can I get you a coffee or something? I think it’s still fresh for Dad. I’m sure you haven’t been sleeping.”

He sighed. It almost sounded like relief.

“I’d love a coffee. Thanks, Laney.”

Ugh. Hearing him say my name shouldn’t cause an avalanche of feelings in my gut, but it did.

“My parents don’t have oat milk, I’m sorry.”

“Hon—Laney, that’s okay. I’ll take it black.”

“We might have regular milk or cinnamon. I know you like that when it gets cold outside.” Oh my God. My nerves had gotten the best of me, and I was rambling. “I didn’t know you were coming. Obviously. I didn’t prepare for you. But why would I? Why are you here? Wait, the cyber event!” I spun and leaned against the counter, finding him staring at me with a small smile.

That barely there grin paired with his dimples was a wildly dangerous combination. No. Don’t look at him. Focus on the coffee.

“You’re so fucking cute when you ramble like that. I love your stream of consciousness.”

“No, you don’t,” I blurted out. My face heated as a very clear memory came to the surface. The previous me wouldn’t have said anything because work mattered so much to Connor. Now though? It didn’t matter.

“When we were at the party last spring, you excused us after I went on a rambling story about my trip to Texas. You said, ‘She gets so chatty when she has a drink. Excuse us,’ to the board member. Then you pulled me away and blocked me from talking to any other board member the entire night, like I’m embarrassing to you.”

My chest ached like someone had squeezed all the air out of my lungs. I couldn’t catch my breath as I stared at my future ex-husband. His mouth fell open, and I swore he paled, matching the eggshell walls in the kitchen. I knew every expression of his, but this one was new.

Shock, maybe?

“Laney,” he rasped, shaking his head and placing his palms flat on the table. He stood, his tortured gaze zeroing in on me. “That’s… that’s not what happened. Is that what you thought?”

My throat dried up. My palms sweated.

Buzz. Buzz.

Thank goodness. Glancing at my smartwatch, I saw my mom’s name pop up, saving me from answering this confusing question. I needed a break. I quickly picked up my phone. “Hi, Mom, what’s up?”

“Laney.” She used her serious voice. “I wanted to give you a heads-up. We have someone renting the house next to us.”

“Okay.” I bit my lip, avoiding Connor’s piercing stare. “Why are you telling me?”

“It’s Connor. He rented the house for December.”

Laney gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, her attention moving toward me. Her gorgeous eyes lacked their usual warmth or joy, and seeing her sad gutted me, leaving me without any rational thought except wanting to know how to fix it.

A flash of anger danced behind her eyes, and my chest ached. I loved feisty Laney. It wasn’t a side she showed often. I just wasn’t familiar with being on this end of it.

“What is it?”

“You rented the house next door?” She slammed the coffee down in front of me and spilled it on the table. “You can’t stay there.”

“Why?” I figured it was the perfect place to stay to win her back.

Her face reddened as she spat, “You just can’t.”

“Not sure that’s the rule, babe. I paid, and it’s happening.”

She gritted her teeth. “Are you hoping to torture me?”

“The opposite.” I smiled briefly. “I’m here to fight for you.”

“What about… your job? The cyber breach? You can’t take off work.”

“I’m the boss. Of course I can.” I shrugged. I needed her to truly understand that this wasn’t an off-the-cuff choice.

My dad hadn’t heard about the event yet, which would lead to me getting an earful, but this was my wife we were talking about. My other half. It still didn’t make sense that no one in my life thought that her leaving was a big deal.

Laney sniffed, and I knew I’d said the wrong thing. Her face crumpled, and her shoulders slumped. A gnawing ache formed in my gut, and I stood there, helpless, as she let out a humorless laugh.

“If you can take off work whenever, then how am I supposed to feel about when I asked you to come to a photography show? Or the weekend trip to see my college friends? Or the anniversary dinner you forgot about? Your words and actions don’t align, Connor, and it’s exhausting and devastating to think you’ll never change.”

Before I could respond, she pointed to the door. Her chin wobbled, and I hated more than anything that I put that tremble there. The way she swiped under her eye with her finger, not able to hide her tears… that was my fault.

She was right. I hadn’t prioritized those nights. One of our employees had been involved in a sexual assault case that involved another colleague, and then Petra—my executive assistant—learned her mom passed, and she’d needed help. Both reasons seemed solid at the time, but hearing them from Laney now…

What if I can’t save this?

“Please, leave. I can’t make you go back to our… your condo, but please, leave me be. I know you care for me and hate seeing me cry, but every time we talk, that’s all I want to do, okay?” She ran her hands over her face before opening the front door. “I don’t know why you’re making this so much harder on us.”

There was one thing I had learned from being the CEO of a multimillion-dollar business for the last decade: it was when to argue, when to be quiet, and when to be patient. Laney wasn’t in the place to talk this out and figure out solutions. Her pain was too loud and fresh. It’d just hurt us if I spoke up, so I sighed and stopped right in front of her.

“I’ll be next door. We’ll talk soon.”

Then, without kissing my wife, I walked out of her parents’ house with my heart beating in my throat. The brisk Illinois air hit my face, the sting welcome as it distracted me from the growing pressure in my chest. This was just unacceptable. Our marriage wasn’t ending.

I’d convince her. Hell, I’d won over executives ten times more terrifying than my wife. But was that even the same thing?

I entered the rental and slammed the door shut. That didn’t go as planned. I foolishly thought seeing me would help… When did things get so bad?

It was barely 10:00 in the morning, and I needed a damn drink. The house wasn’t stocked at all. In my rush to get here, I had shoved three outfits into a suitcase. I’d need more if I was going to stay here.

Like clockwork, my emails pinged with media requests. Where is the CEO during a breach? Is it worse than we think?

I dove in, welcoming the distraction while I figured out what to do about my marriage.

I knew peace wouldn’t last long. My dad would find out about me leaving, and sure enough, a few hours later, he called. I shoved the late lunch I had ordered to the side and answered the call, steeling myself for a berating.

“Father.”

“Why are you not in the office? Dennis told me you’re dealing with an emergency? You better be in the hospital right now. I didn’t convince my friends to invest in this company to have my son bail when shit gets hard.”

My stomach sank. He would never understand my reasons.

“I’ll be back after the holidays. The team can handle everything. Hell, they are the ones that do the work. I just smile for the press.”

“Don’t try to be cute with me. You belong there, not in some suburb.”

“So you do know where I am.”

“Petra informed me that your wife left you. You seem to be under the impression you can save the marriage, yet many believe that’s a waste of your time. If Laney isn’t happy receiving your generous salary, the condo you provide for her, and her luxury lifestyle, then who cares? Let her go.”

“Do not speak about her like that. What the fuck, Dad?” In less than twelve hours, both my assistant Petra and my dad had insulted my wife. “I’m trying to save my marriage becau. . .