The cocoa is rich and creamy, topped with whipped cream and a dusting of cinnamon. I take a sip and feel the warmth spread through me immediately. We chat for a few more minutes andlisten as Darren tells us about his first hunting trip in the Adirondacks, how he got turned around on the trails and ended up stumbling into town half-frozen and completely lost. Ellie found him at the diner, fed him soup, and gave him directions back to his campsite. He came back the next day to thank her, and the rest, as they say, is history.
"That's so romantic," Erin says, her eyes practically sparkling. "Meeting in a small mountain town during hunting season. It's perfect."
Ellie blushes. "It wasn't quite as cinematic as it sounds. He showed up covered in mud and smelling like the woods."
"Hey, I cleaned up," Darren protests, and he tickles Ellie's side playfully.
Erin turns to Dane and me with a mischievous expression. "You two should have a winter wedding. Can you imagine? Mountains in the background, snow on the ground, pine sprigs everywhere. It'd be so romantic." She's practically swooning as she hugs her cocoa and gives me a starry-eyed look.
Dane's jaw tightens slightly, and I feel him shift beside me. He's not a fan of being the center of attention, and the idea of a wedding—especially one with all the trappings Erin's describing—probably makes him want to disappear into the woods. We haven't talked about marriage other than to say that we are committed to each other, and I'm not sure what he's even thinking about it.
"That does sound beautiful," I say diplomatically, trying to steer the conversation away before Dane gets too uncomfortable.
But Erin's on a roll now. "And you could do it right here in the square. String up more lights, set up an arch covered inevergreen branches, maybe some candles. Oh, and the reception could be at the diner! Ellie, you'd cater, right?" It's like Erin planned this entire conversation and wants to make sure she drops every hint. I can feel Dane growing more distant by the second, pulling away.
"Absolutely," Ellie says, clearly delighted by the idea. "I'd make it a feast."
Dane clears his throat. "We should keep moving. Lots to see." He starts moving, and I feel trapped between the man I love and my best friend for life.
Erin giggles, clearly picking up on his discomfort. "Okay, okay. I'll stop planning your hypothetical wedding—for now."
She loops her arm through mine and pulls me toward the next booth, leaving Dane to follow her rapid footsteps, and when she sees a holiday wreath she absolutely has to have, she darts off. He catches up quickly, his hand finding mine again, and I glance up at him.
"You okay?" I ask quietly.
"Fine," he mutters. "Your friend has a lot of opinions."
"She's excited. She hasn't seen me this happy in years."
His expression softens. "Are you? Happy?"
"Yes." I lean into him as we walk and again rest my head on his shoulder. "Happier than I've ever been."
We wander through the celebration, stopping at booths to admire handmade ornaments and sample Becky Albright's roasted chestnuts. Erin buys a carved wooden reindeer from Gideon, who's recovered fully from the gunshot wound he tooklast year. His leg still gives him trouble in the cold, but he's back to running his booth with the same gruff charm.
Mira waves at us from the bar setup, where she's serving mulled wine to a crowd of locals. Varen stands nearby, talking to Travis Boone, both of them dressed warmly and looking far more relaxed than they did this time last year. And when Wade struts out with his chest puffed out, everyone nods at him. It took him a while to get back on his feet, but the entire town stands in agreement. It wouldn't be the same without him.
The square is full of people—families with children, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing over drinks. And even the Santa display is up and running. Erin wanders off toward the mistletoe swags, most likely assuming she'll be buying some to stash around the cabin to force me and Dane to kiss, and I just chuckle.
"She really is relentless, isn't she?" I ask him, and he doesn’t even answer.
Instead, he takes my hand and leads me toward the center of the square, near the massive Christmas tree. The lights strung through its branches cast a soft glow over the snow-covered ground that's pure white this year. No blood in sight.
When we reach the base of the tree, he stops and turns to face me. His expression is serious now, the faint hint of nervousness in his eyes that I rarely see. "What?" I say, smiling at him, and he clears his throat but doesn't speak. His brow furrows in a deep crevice and it's almost like pain in his eyes, not the happiness that was just there a moment ago.
"Dane?" I ask, my heart starting to race. I think for a moment he's going to give me some bad news or break up with me, butthen he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black box. My breath catches. "Oh, my God," I whisper, not able to take my eyes off his face as he lowers onto one knee and grips my hand.
"Your friend almost ruined this," he says, and I already feel the tears welling up. "She's talking about weddings and futures and all these things I've been too much of a coward to bring up."
"You're not a coward," I say softly.
"I am when it comes to this." He opens the box, revealing a simple gold band with a single diamond set into the metal. It's elegant and understated, exactly the kind of ring I would've chosen for myself. "I've been carrying this around for two weeks, waiting for the right moment. But there's never going to be a perfect time, is there?"
My eyes sting with tears. "Dane."
He kisses my frigid fingers and then looks me in the eye again. Everything else vanishes around me. It's like it's just the two of us, no Erin, no town celebration. And the air crystallizes between us.
"Sloane Grady," he says so quietly I almost miss it. "You came into my life when I thought I didn't deserve anything good and saw who I really am—the worst parts of me, the parts I tried to bury—and you stayed anyway. I thought you'd run away and be afraid of me, but you helped me accept myself."
