Jamie froze. That name hit like a slap. His stomach dropped, and his breath caught in his throat. How did he know? Why would he say that?
Daddy Spencer stepped to him, wrapping an arm around Jamie’s shoulders, pulling him close. “That’s enough,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “Leave. Now.”
Billy didn’t move, just kept his eyes on Jamie, which made him so angry. He moved forward and slammed the door shut, then quickly locked it. Jamie peered through the window to make sure he was still standing at the door. Billy turned and walked off into the snow as if he hadn’t just stirred up a storm.
Jamie stood there, heart pounding, trying to breathe. Daddy Spencer held him tighter, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’re safe,” he whispered. “He doesn’t get to touch you. Not now. Not ever.”
Jamie nodded, burying his face in Daddy Spencer’s chest. He didn’t know what Billy wanted, but he knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t going anywhere his Daddy Spencer wasn’t.
Chapter Nineteen
Spencer
Spencer hadn’t stopped thinking about Billy’s visit. The way he showed up uninvited, smug and sharp, like he still had some kind of hold over Spencer’s life. But what stuck with Spencer most wasn’t Billy—it was Jamie. The way Jamie stood his ground, voice shaking but fierce, slamming the door in Billy’s face like he was done being anyone’s target. That moment hit Spencer hard. Jamie wasn’t just surviving anymore. He was fighting back.
Spencer watched the door slam shut with a sharp finality, the echo still lingering in the cabin’s quiet. Jamie stood there trembling, his shoulders tense, his breath shallow. Spencer’s heart ached at the sight—but beneath the worry, pride bloomed. Jamie had stood his ground. He hadn’t let Billy walk all over him. He’d protected what was his.
Spencer walked over and gently guided Jamie back to the couch. He sat down and pulled Jamie onto his lap, cradling him close. Jamie curled into him without hesitation, burying his face in Spencer’s chest. Spencer rocked him slowly, one hand rubbingcircles on his back, the other resting over Jamie’s heart like he could shield it from everything outside.
“You did good,” Spencer murmured. “You were brave.”
Jamie didn’t respond right away. He just breathed, letting Spencer’s warmth settle the storm inside him. After a few minutes, his voice came out soft and uncertain. “How did Billy know about Tom?”
Spencer sighed. “I don’t know. Whoever owns these cabins probably told him. Billy used to live around here. He knows the owner.”
Jamie nodded against his chest, but Spencer could feel the tension still lingering in his body. Then Jamie pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes searching. “Are you sure you don’t want him back?”
Spencer’s heart clenched. He cupped Jamie’s cheek, brushing his thumb gently across the skin. “No. Never. I’m with you.”
“I thought he was messing around when he asked if I was your husband.”
Spencer shook his head. “No, I told him we were married. I wanted him to know you’re mine. And who knows…” He smiled softly. “What can happen between us?”
Jamie’s eyes filled with something tender—hope, maybe. Spencer held him tighter, letting the silence stretch between them, not heavy this time, but full of possibility. Whatever came next, Spencer knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t letting go.
After comforting him, Spencer knew they needed a reset. Something soft. Something good. So he booked two seats on the Christmas train that ran through the snowy hills just outside town. It was a little cheesy, sure, but Spencer had a feeling Jamie would love it.
And he did.
The train was decked out like a holiday dream—garlands wrapped around every window, twinkling lights strung across the ceiling, and red velvet booths that felt like something out of an old movie. Christmas songs played gently over the speakers, and every so often, Santa himself strolled through the cars, handing out candy canes and posing for pictures with wide-eyed kids.
Jamie’s eyes lit up the second they stepped aboard. Spencer watched him take it all in—the snow-covered trees flashing past the windows, the warm glow of the lanterns, the scent of cinnamon and roasted ham drifting from the dining car.
They settled into their booth, and when their meals arrived, Spencer leaned in and said, “I’m proud of you. For slamming that door in Billy’s face. You didn’t let him rattle you.”
Jamie smiled, soft and a little shy. “I was scared. But I didn’t want him to see that.”
Spencer nodded. “You were brave. That’s what matters.”
They talked over dinner—roast turkey with cranberry glaze, buttery mashed potatoes, and fresh rolls that melted in their mouths. Jamie asked about the horses back in Montana, and Spencer told him everything. How the barn smelled in the early morning, how the foals stumbled around like drunk toddlers, how quiet the world felt when he was out riding alone.
“I’m a licensed vet,” Spencer said between bites. “So if you ever want to help, I could show you the ropes.”
Jamie’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Really.”
Dessert was a spread of holiday classics—peppermint bark, sugar cookies shaped like snowflakes, and a rich chocolate yule log that Jamie devoured with wide eyes and a happy hum.
