They rounded the final bend in the path, and Sorcha and Christopher’s cabin came into view. Warm golden light spilled from every window, and smoke curled from the chimney into the darkening sky. It looked like something from a Christmas card, with its colorful string lights and a holly wreath hung on the door.
Then, her attention switched to the truck parked outside. James’s truck.
Heat stirred low in her stomach, a soft, traitorous bloom of anticipation. She told herself it was nothing—just nerves, just the cold, just everything except what it truly was: the thrill of knowing he might be only a few steps away.
Doreen paused for just a moment, tugging the sweater straight beneath her coat. She smoothed her hair once more, suddenly aware of her racing pulse.
Just dinner,she reminded herself.Just friends.
Yet she could not ignore the feeling that she was standing on the edge of something vast and unfamiliar.
Jake and Bash bounded ahead, leaping up the porch steps to knock on the wooden door.
The door swung open, and a wave of warmth, light, and delicious aromas enveloped Doreen. She caught the scent of roasting herbs and something sweet—cinnamon perhaps—as Sorcha appeared, her face lighting up at the sight of them.
“You made it!” Sorcha exclaimed, immediately pulling Doreen into a tight hug that smelled of vanilla and home cooking.
Doreen hugged her back, reminding herself this was why she was here. To see her best friend and celebrate her newfound happiness. “Thanks for having us all on such short notice.”
Behind Sorcha, a tall man with kind eyes—Christopher, she presumed—kneeled to help Jake with his snow-crusted boots.
“Let me help you with those, buddy,” he said, his deep voice gentle as Jake balanced precariously on one foot.
Bash seized the opportunity to nose past everyone, trotting into the cabin like he owned the place, his tail wagging enthusiastically as he investigated his new surroundings with the leash trailing behind him.
As Doreen disentangled herself from Sorcha’s embrace, movement from the kitchen doorway caught her eye. James stepped into view, and the sight of him knocked the air from her lungs.
Gone was the uniform, replaced by well-worn jeans and a dark blue sweater that made his eyes look like twilight. His hair was slightly damp, as if he’d recently showered, and he moved with an easy grace that seemed at odds with his tall frame.
Their eyes met across the room, and something electric passed between them. His gaze widened slightly, then traveled slowly down to her burgundy sweater before returning toher face. The warmth in his expression made her heart skip erratically in her chest.
Doreen’s fingers tightened unconsciously on Sorcha’s arm. She drew a quick breath that caught audibly in her throat, heat rushing to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the crackling fireplace. Without thinking, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly hyperaware of every molecule of air between them.
“Hi,” she managed, the single syllable embarrassingly breathy.
“Hi,” James replied, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her bones.
“Doreen, this is Christopher,” Sorcha said, either oblivious to or tactfully ignoring the charged moment. “And you already know our local deputy.”
Christopher stood, offering Doreen a warm handshake. “It’s great to finally meet you. Sorcha talks about you constantly.”
“All good things, I hope,” Doreen said, grateful for the momentary distraction.
“The best,” Christopher assured her with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
The cabin was everything a mountain retreat should be—pine walls gleaming in the firelight, comfortable mismatched furniture arranged around a stone hearth, and windows framing the darkening forest outside. Handmade quilts, which she presumed were Sorcha’s touch, draped over the backs of chairs, and the soft light from several lamps created pools of golden warmth throughout the space, which was tastefully decorated for the festive season.
“Let me take your coat,” James offered, suddenly beside her.
His proximity sent another jolt through her system. As she slipped out of her coat, his fingers brushed against her shoulder, and she felt the touch like a spark against her skin.
“Thank you,” she murmured, acutely conscious of how the burgundy sweater hugged her curves.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Christopher asked, moving toward a small sideboard in the corner. “We’ve got wine, beer, or hot cider.”
“The cider sounds perfect,” Doreen said, watching as Jake immediately launched into a conversation with James.
Sorcha touched Doreen’s elbow. “Come help me finish up in the kitchen?”
