He steps closer until our chests nearly touch, his voice low and steady. “You’ve got me, Dahlia.”
I don’t even try to stop myself. I lean in, kissing him softly at first, like I’m trying to relearn something we didn’t actually forget. Then he cups the back of my neck and pulls me deeper, the kiss turning slow and hungry and sure.
Snowflakes catch in my hair. Lights twinkle above us. Somewhere inside, the family cheers something loud and chaotic.
But out here?
It’s just us.
When we finally break apart, he presses his forehead to mine.
“I carved that ornament the day after the wedding,” he murmurs. “I kept it because I couldn’t throw it away. I didn’t want to.”
My throat tightens. “You made one for last night?”
“I will.” His thumb brushes my cheek. “If you want that.”
I don’t hesitate. “I do.”
His smile is quiet and devastating.
And when he kisses me again, everything is finally, finally clicking into place.
Minutes—lots of them—later, the door to the cabin swings open behind us, and Molly’s voice carries out into the cold.
“Dahlia? Cyrus? Are you two—oh.”
She stops on the threshold, taking one look at how close we are, how breathless I probably look, how Cyrus’s hand is still warm on the back of my neck.
Her smile stretches slow and satisfied.
“I knew it.”
Cyrus doesn’t even try to step away.
Instead, he slides his hand down to lace his fingers through mine.
That simple gesture makes my heart pull tight.
Molly beams and waves us in. “Everyone’s asking where you disappeared to. And by everyone, I mostly mean Angela and Heidi being nosy, but come on.”
Inside, the cabin is loud in the best holiday way—laughing voices, clinking dishes, the fire snapping.
Angela spots us first. “There they are! Took you long enough.”
She elbows Heidi, who just smirks knowingly. “Called it.”
Bradley appears behind Molly, arms crossed, grin smug. “Told you they’d figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” Cyrus asks flatly.
“That you’re disgustingly into each other,” Heidi supplies cheerfully.
My cheeks flush. Cyrus squeezes my hand once, subtle but real.
The room shifts and widens as more familiar faces join in:
Angela hugs me so hard my ribs click. Wade stands behind her, one hand on her hip, one eyebrow lifted at Cyrus.
