“That’ll bring in stragglers,” the manager murmured at my shoulder, eyes on the lane. “And late arrivals.”
“Or one very determined big brother,” I said before I could swallow it back.
He blinked at me, then shivered. “I’ll make more cocoa.”
It didn’t take long. A pickup nosed in under the portico, Montana plates iced, hood powdered white. The driver’s door opened. Stetson Kincaid swung down in a storm coat and a scowl, hat low, boots already caked with salt. He was taller than Hayes, broader through the shoulders, with Kincaid-green eyes under dark brows, and my father’s jawline stamped on his face like a signature.
“Stets,” I breathed, and then I was moving toward the door.
He scooped me up in a hug that knocked the wind out of both of us, then lifted me clean off my feet and laughed into my hair in a way that saidDamn it, kid, I missed it and I’m angry about it and I love you enough to break something. When he set me down, his hands framed my face. “Are you okay?”
I nodded.
“Rand and Harper?”
“Still in bed,” I said. “You missed the wedding but not the mimosas.”
“I would rather have been here for your big event.” He groaned as he tugged me toward a low loveseat. “Come on, tell me everything.”
I gave him the fast version, including the power outage, the candlelight, the cake scare I had fixed, the snow swallowing the world and spitting out magic. Stetson swore quietly at intervalsand muttered that he knew I’d pull it off. Then he got up to check in, grabbed an envelope with a room keycard, and stopped when he saw something, or someone, behind me.
His entire face lit up. “Granger.”
I didn’t have to turn to feel the change in the air, but I did anyway.
Hayes stood ten feet away, hands in his coat pockets, his stance relaxed and steady. They’d grown up together in uniform and knew each other on a deeper level than I could even imagine.
They clapped each other on the shoulder in a half-hug. “I didn’t know you got leave,” Hayes said.
Stetson grunted. “I should have left a day or two earlier. The roads were a parking lot from the airport. You look like shit.”
“Not any worse than you,” Hayes volleyed back.
They both grinned, easy and familiar… the calm before the storm. I could feel the ground under my boots shift while I waited for the inevitable eruption.
Stetson’s gaze swung back to me. “I heard Bluebird killed it. I’m proud of you, Sid.”
For a second I couldn’t speak. Getting praise from my family was like finally catching a horse I’d been chasing all morning. “Thanks,” I managed.
A housekeeping supervisor beelined toward us with a clipboard and a crisis about towel inventory. I excused myself to deal with it, and when I turned back, I caught only the tail end of a sentence. Stetson said something aboutAlaska,and Hayes’s jaw ticked like a bomb about to go off. Both their faces shifted when they saw me coming. Stetson smiled, but Hayes glanced down at his boots.
“What’s in Alaska?” I asked, even though I already knew.
“A high-dollar contract,” Stetson said, oblivious to the tension. “Granger’s starting in a week. You’ll love the areaaround Anchorage. You might even get to sleep more than three hours at a time.” He shot a look at me. “I told him he’d better get a real coat. He thinks Texas winter counts.”
“Hey, Texas winters count,” Hayes said.
The front desk manager, who had impeccable timing in every way but this one, called across the lobby. “Mr. Granger? Housekeeping wanted me to ask. Do you want them to turn down the Timberline Suite for you and Ms. Kincaid again tonight, or should they prep a second room now that the east wing is back online?”
The lobby didn’t go silent. That only happens in movies. But Stetson’s head turned toward the desk like a gunsight snapping to a target.
“Come again?” he said, not loud, not soft.
The manager’s smile slipped. His gaze bounced between Stetson and me. “Oh—oh, I’m sorry… I just… since Ms. Kincaid’s pipe burst the first night and we moved her into Mr. Granger’s suite?—”
“Since when?” Stetson asked, still looking at me.
Two days. Two nights. One entire life. “The twenty-first,” I said. “The lodge was at capacity. My room flooded. There wasn’t anywhere else.”
