“I have to go into town with Charlie tomorrow, too,” Holly continued. “To do some last-minute Christmas shopping and to?—”
A knock interrupted her, and the door opened to reveal Jane. “Dad, oh, sorry, Holly. I didn’t know you were in here.”
“No, it’s okay,” Holly said, standing up quickly. “I have to go get ready to meet Charlie anyway. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
She looked at Jack with a warm smile. “Lunch tomorrow it is, then.”
“Looking forward to it.” Jack smiled back, wishing desperately that they were alone so he could kiss her. But Jane was already walking into the office, Duke’s leash in hand.
“We’d better go get Duke,” Jane said, her expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
“Did Detective Bruce call you as well?” Jack asked, standing and grabbing his keys from the desk.
Jane rolled her eyes and nodded. “Yes. Apparently, our dog has no sense of boundaries when it comes to romance.”
“That’s my cue to leave,” Holly said with a laugh. “Good luck with Duke.” She waved and slipped out the door.
Jack watched her go, his heart full despite the chaos of the day. Pamela’s phone call. The expensive flooring. Duke’s romantic escapades. The mounting pressure of Victor’s takeover attempt. All of it felt manageable when Holly was nearby,when he could see her smile and know that she was there, supporting him, believing in him.
“Dad?” Jane’s voice pulled him back to the present. “Are you coming, or should I go get Duke myself?”
“I’m coming,” Jack said, shaking off his thoughts. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and followed Jane out of the office. “You won’t handle him at the moment on your own.”
They walked through the inn together, father and daughter, and Jack marveled at the change in Jane over the past few days. She walked with more confidence now, smiled more freely. The shadows that had haunted her eyes for three years were fading, replaced by hope and happiness. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that things were going to work themselves out for the better. And if not, this last Christmas season at the inn would be one of the best yet.
4
GABE
The early morning sun spilled across the horizon like melted butter, painting the sky in layers of flamingo pink, tangerine, and molten gold as Gabe sat on the boardwalk, his easel set up before him. The Atlantic stretched endlessly before them, a rippling tapestry of indigo and azure, waves rolling in with their eternal rhythm and leaving lacy white foam in their wake. Beside him, Jane worked on her own canvas, her slender fingers gripping her brush with the kind of quiet, intense focus that made the tiny crease appear between her eyebrows. A detail he found both endearing and inspiring.
His skyline was coming along nicely, even if he said so himself. The silhouette of Anastasia Beach against the dawn sky was taking shape. The jagged palms, the gentle curve of shoreline, the distant lighthouse, with colors blending and bleeding into one another in ways that surprised him. The cerulean bluedeepened to cobalt where sky met water, and the whisper of lavender clouds still lingered from the night. He had never considered himself particularly artistic, but these morning painting sessions with Jane had awakened something dormant within him: a desire to capture beauty in all its ephemeral glory, to create something lasting from these precious, fleeting moments they shared.
“That’s really good,” Jane said, leaning over to look at his work. “The way you’ve captured the light on the water is beautiful.”
Gabe felt warmth spread through his chest at her compliment. “Thanks, though it’s not in the same class as yours.”
He gestured to Jane’s canvas, where a stunning seascape was emerging. The way she’d captured the exact moment a wave crested, suspended in time, with foam that seemed to sparkle with actual sunlight. Her brushstrokes layered translucent cerulean over deep navy, creating a depth that made the ocean seem to breathe on the canvas. Delicate wisps of pink-gold light danced across the water’s surface, reflecting the dawn sky with such precision that Gabe could almost feel the cool morning breeze coming off her painting. His own work looked childish by comparison. Jane had real talent. The kind that transformed ordinary pigment into emotion, that came from years of practice, and the sort of artistic eye that saw beauty others missed.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Jane said, nudging him gently with her shoulder. “You’ve only been doing this for a couple of weeks. I’ve been painting for a lot longer.”
Gabe set down his brush and turned to her, unable to resist pulling her close. “I think I’m just motivated by the company.”
Jane smiled up at him, and Gabe leaned down to kiss her. The morning was quiet except for the sound of waves and seabirds, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The stress about his career, the worry about the inn, the complicated family dynamics. There was just this: Jane in his arms, the sunrise painting the world in gold, and the promise of a future he had not dared to imagine just weeks ago.
His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket, breaking the moment. Gabe pulled back with a sigh and reached for it, but when he pulled the device out, he frowned.
“Oh, it’s this one,” he said, looking at the pink bedazzled phone case.
Jane’s eyes widened with recognition. “That’s your mom’s phone. Trinity told me she bedazzled that case for her grandmother’s birthday this year.”
“Right,” Gabe said, nodding sheepishly. “Mom left it in my suite last night when she stopped by. I was hoping to run into her before she went jogging with Jack this morning so that I could give it back, but she didn’t show up.”
“That’s because my father and Uncle Logan went to fetch an antique dresser early this morning,” Jane informed him.
Gabe nodded. “Ahh, that’s why.”
The screen lit up with a new message notification,and Gabe’s eyes caught the preview before he could look away. His jaw clenched as he read the words from Terry.
