Emmy studied my face like she was trying to read my mind. “What does your gut tell you?”
“My gut is apparently unreliable when it comes to Kent Bancroft,” I said with a laugh. “It told me to trust him the first time and look how that turned out.”
“But do you think he’s changed?”
That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? I thought about the way he’d looked at me in the hedge maze, the vulnerability in his voice when he’d talked about becoming the man I’d helped him realize he wanted to be. I thought about his willingness to challenge his father’s business practices and risk his own standing in the family for the sake of doing the right thing.
And his own money. Even if he would still be rich, a few million dollars was nothing to sneeze at.
“I think he’s trying to,” I said. “Whether that’s enough, I honestly don’t know.”
Emmy nodded thoughtfully. “Well, you don’t have to decide tonight. Focus on the kids and Santa and making Christmas magic. Everything else can wait.”
She was right, of course. But as we continued setting up for the evening’s festivities, I found myself completely distracted. I arranged and rearranged the same pile of presents three times. I bumped into a side table hard enough to knock over a lamp. When Emmy asked me to help move the coffee table, I spent a full minute staring at her like she was speaking a foreign language before her words registered.
I kept replaying his words in my head. And then imagining what it would look like to have that investment for real this time.
“Okay, that’s it,” Emmy said, taking the garland I’d been tangling instead of draping and setting it aside. “You’re useless right now. Go take a break. Get some air. Clear your head.”
“I’m fine,” I protested, but my heart wasn’t in it.
“You’re a mess,” Emmy said with fond exasperation. “A beautiful, Christmas-loving mess, but a mess, nonetheless. Go. I can handle the rest of this.”
Recognizing defeat when I saw it, I grabbed my coat and headed outside. The cold air instantly cleared some of the fog from my brain. I stood on the front porch for a moment, breathing deeply and trying to center myself.
Focus on tonight, I told myself. Focus on the joy of children meeting Santa. Focus on all the traditions that made this place special.
Everything else could wait until after Christmas.
By the time I made it back to my apartment to get ready for the evening, I was feeling more like myself again. I took a long shower, letting the hot water wash away some of the tension I’d been carrying, and changed into a deep green sweater that Emmy insisted brought out my eyes. I even took the time to put on a little makeup and do something intentional with my hair.
Looking in the mirror, I felt ready to be the hostess Northwood Lodge needed me to be. Ready to create magic for other people while setting aside my own feelings.
I walked outside and spotted Kent. He was walking toward Santa’s Cabin.
I stopped dead in my tracks, watching as he wrestled his duffel bag through the door.
“What the hell?” I murmured.
He was here.
Why in the hell was he here?
Because there was nowhere else to stay in Northwood. He wasn’t welcome at the lodge, and I wasn’t inviting him to crash on my couch again.
I didn’t even consider where he was going to go.
As if sensing my gaze, Kent looked up and caught sight of me standing there. Even from this distance, I could see him smile. My traitorous heart skipped a beat. I felt heat flood my cheeks despite the cold air.
This was going to be a long few days.
Was he planning to stay until he got an answer? Or was he going to run back tomorrow morning?
I forced myself to wave, a casual, friendly gesture that hopefully didn’t betray the chaos in my chest. I pulled myself together and headed toward the lodge. I had a job to do.
But as I walked away, I could feel Kent’s gaze following me. My hospitality side was telling me to invite him inside for dinner and the Santa event.
But I didn’t think that would go over well with my family. And I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to be around him without wanting him.
