“I think I’m going to marry that goofball,” I whispered to Dad, watching Kent duck as Brom launched a particularly well-aimed snowball in his direction.
Dad smiled. “You’d better,” he said. “That man is crazy about you.”
We both watched the grown men throw snowballs at each other like they were all teenagers again. It was good to see Brom have fun. Real fun. Austin and Kent seemed to get along well, even if they hadn’t seen each other in years.
“I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” Dad said suddenly, his voice taking on the serious tone he used for important conversations. “You never faltered when all of us were ready to throw in the towel. Your spirit shines bright enough for all of us. You’ve always been such a guiding light.”
The unexpected praise almost made me cry. Dad wasn’t usually one for sentimental speeches, and hearing him acknowledge how hard I had fought to keep the lodge going meant everything to me.
“Kent’s lucky to have you,” he continued, then leaned over to kiss the top of my head. “Merry Christmas, young lady. I’m so happy for you. And I feel like the luckiest dad in the world.”
He got up to join Mom, who was sprucing up some garland in the lobby. I wiped at my eyes and took a moment to really look at the scene outside.
With Kent out there hurling snowballs at Brom and the kids, the snow-covered farm stretching out behind them with Christmas lights still twinkling in the afternoon sun, I was pretty sure the farm had never looked better.
I let myself daydream about what next year might bring. Maybe another niece or nephew? Brom and Stacy had been talking about adding to their family for months, but with the financial instability of the lodge, they’d been hesitant to take that leap. Now that things had changed, now that we had security and a real future to build on, I wondered if they’d finally have another baby.
My heart swelled at the thought. Having another little one around would be absolutely magical.
What else might change? Ozzo would still be Ozzo, probably terrorizing tourists and charming locals in equal measure. Emmy would be in Australia, chasing her dreams and sending us postcards from places with impossible beaches and exotic wildlife. That reminded me, I was going to have to break it to her I was not going to Australia. I had been on the fence about it, but now with Kent and revamping the lodge, I needed to stay home.
Iwantedto stay here.
Kent and I would be here. Together. In love. Building something beautiful and lasting with the family that had claimed him as their own.
I sent up a silent thank you to the universe for the greatest Christmas gift of all, not just Kent himself but the love we’d found and the future we were creating together.
Finishing my coffee, I decided it was time to join the fun outside. I bundled up in my coat and stepped out into the crispafternoon air, immediately scooping up a handful of snow and packing it into the perfect snowball.
Kent was distracted, trying to help Alder navigate the drone’s camera controls, when I launched my attack. The snowball caught him right in the back of the head with a satisfying splat.
He whirled around, his face a picture of mock outrage. I let out a shriek and ran for the tree line when he started chasing after me.
“You’re going to pay for that!” he called, gaining on me with his longer stride.
I made it about twenty feet before he tackled me into a snowbank, both of us going down in a tangle of limbs and laughter. He pinned me in the snow and kissed me breathless, his lips cold from the winter air but warming quickly under mine.
We were giggling like idiots when I looked up over his shoulder and spotted yet another flashy car heading up our driveway.
“Kent,” I said, sitting up and straddling him in the snow as I pointed toward the approaching vehicle.
Austin, who was on the porch with the kids, straightened and got to his feet as the car parked and another tall, distinguished man in an expensive coat got out.
Even from this distance, I could tell this was Armand Bancroft. He had Kent’s build and the same dark hair, though silver at the temples. The way Kent and Austin stiffened told me my guess was correct. He carried himself with the kind of authority that suggested he was used to being the most important person in any room.
He probably was.
I hopped off Kent. I did not want to meet my boyfriend’s father while I was straddling his son. Kent quickly jumped to his feet. We brushed snow off ourselves and approached the groupthat was forming near the lodge’s entrance. I could feel the tension radiating from both Kent and Austin.
Armand’s gaze swept over the assembled group—his two sons, my family, the evidence of our chaotic Christmas celebration scattered around the property—before settling on me.
“You must be Sylvie,” he said, extending his hand with a smile that was surprisingly warm. “I’m Armand Bancroft. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Mr. Bancroft,” I said, shaking his hand and trying to read his expression. “This is an unexpected surprise.”
“I imagine it is,” he said. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”
“Merry Christmas,” Kent said carefully, his voice cautious.
