“You were gone ten minutes.”
“Still missed you.”
I laugh and burrow into him. “I missed you, too.”
The doorbell rings. I pull away reluctantly and open it.
Roz stands on the porch holding a casserole dish wrapped in a towel. “Happy almost New Year, honey!”
“You didn’t have to bring anything.”
“Of course I did. You’re hosting. That means I bring food.” She motions over her shoulder. “Also wine. Cole, be a dear and grab it from my front seat?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She sweeps inside, taking in the lights and the fire crackling in the small fireplace Cole cleaned and inspected, and the cocoa station I set up on the counter with marshmallows. “This place looks wonderful. You’ve done so much with it.”
“Cole did most of it.”
“Smart man.” As he returns with a bottle of red wine, she winks at him. “You keeping her warm, Hart?”
“Doing my best.”
“Good. Keep it up. She’s a keeper.”
“I know.”
My heart bumps.
Mrs. Porter arrives next with snowflake sugar cookies and a bottle of sparkling cider.
“Holly. Cole. Happy New Year.” She pulls me into a hug. “I’m glad you’re not alone anymore. Both of you.”
He nods. “Thank you, Mrs. Porter.”
We settle in with cocoa and easy conversation. Roz tells stories about New Year’s celebrations from decades past. Mrs. Porter shares library gossip about a budding romance in the book club.
The gathering is small. Intimate. It’s the kind of gathering I used to watch from the outside, wondering what it felt like to belong.
Now I know.
At eleven-thirty, Jesse shows up with Nora, Wells, and Paige. They stomp snow off their boots, and Jesse hands me a bottle of whiskey.
“For the countdown,” Jesse says.
“Thanks, Jesse.”
He glances around. “Place looks good.”
“Cole’s handiwork.”
“Figured.” He claps Cole on the shoulder. “You did right by her.”
“Trying to.”
Wells nods at Cole. “Cabin holding up?”
“Yeah. Generator’s solid. Checked it this morning. You?”
